Margaret kissed her mother for this little burst of maternal vanity; butshe could hardly smile at it, she felt so much out of spirits.
"I would rather stay at home with you,--much rather, mamma."
"Nonsense, darling! Be sure you notice the dinner well. I shall like tohear how they manage these things in Milton. Particularly the secondcourse, dear. Look what they have instead of game."
Mrs. Hale would have been more than interested,--she would have beenastonished, if she had seen the sumptuousness of the dinner-table and itsappointments. Margaret, with her London cultivated taste, felt thenumber of delicacies to be oppressive one half of the quantity wouldhave been enough, and the effect lighter and more elegant. But it wasone of Mrs. Thornton"s rigorous laws of hospitality, that of eachseparate dainty enough should be provided for all the guests to partake,if they felt inclined. Careless to abstemiousness in her daily habits, itwas part of her pride to set a feast before such of her guests as cared forit. Her son shared this feeling. He had never known--though he mighthave imagined, and had the capability to relish--any kind of society butthat which depended on an exchange of superb meals and even now,though he was denying himself the personal expenditure of anunnecessary sixpence, and had more than once regretted that theinvitations for this dinner had been sent out, still, as it was to be, he wasglad to see the old magnificence of preparation.
Margaret and her father were the first to arrive. Mr. Hale was anxiouslypunctual to the time specified. There was no one up-stairs in thedrawing-room but Mrs. Thornton and Fanny. Every cover was takenoff, and the apartment blazed forth in yellow silk damask and abrilliantly-flowered carpet. Every corner seemed filled up withornament, until it became a weariness to the eye, and presented astrange contrast to the bald ugliness of the look-out into the great mill-yard, where wide folding gates were thrown open for the admission ofcarriages. The mill loomed high on the left-hand side of the windows,casting a shadow down from its many stories, which darkened thesummer evening before its time.
"My son was engaged up to the last moment on business. He will behere directly, Mr. Hale. May I beg you to take a seat?"
Mr. Hale was standing at one of the windows as Mrs. Thornton spoke.
He turned away, saying,"Don"t you find such close neighbourhood to the mill rather unpleasantat times?"
She drew herself up:
"Never. I am not become so fine as to desire to forget the source of myson"s wealth and power. Besides, there is not such another factory inMilton. One room alone is two hundred and twenty square yards."
"I meant that the smoke and the noise--the constant going out andcoming in of the work-people, might be annoying!"
"I agree with you, Mr. Hale!" said Fanny. "There is a continual smell ofsteam, and oily machinery--and the noise is perfectly deafening."
"I have heard noise that was called music far more deafening. Theengine-room is at the street-end of the factory; we hardly hear it, exceptin summer weather, when all the windows are open; and as for thecontinual murmur of the work-people, it disturbs me no more than thehumming of a hive of bees. If I think of it at all, I connect it with myson, and feel how all belongs to him, and that his is the head that directsit. Just now, there are no sounds to come from the mill; the hands havebeen ungrateful enough to turn out, as perhaps you have heard. But thevery business (of which I spoke, when you entered), had reference tothe steps he is going to take to make them learn their place." Theexpression on her face, always stern, deepened into dark anger, as shesaid this. Nor did it clear away when Mr. Thornton entered the room;for she saw, in an instant, the weight of care and anxiety which he couldnot shake off, although his guests received from him a greeting thatappeared both cheerful and cordial. He shook hands with Margaret. Heknew it was the first time their hands had met, though she was perfectlyunconscious of the fact. He inquired after Mrs. Hale, and heard Mr.
Hale"s sanguine, hopeful account; and glancing at Margaret, tounderstand how far she agreed with her father, he saw that no dissentingshadow crossed her face. And as he looked with this intention, he wasstruck anew with her great beauty. He had never seen her in such dressbefore and yet now it appeared as if such elegance of attire was sobefitting her noble figure and lofty serenity of countenance, that sheought to go always thus apparelled. She was talking to Fanny; aboutwhat, he could not hear; but he saw his sister"s restless way ofcontinually arranging some part of her gown, her wandering eyes, nowglancing here, now there, but without any purpose in her observation;and he contrasted them uneasily with the large soft eyes that lookedforth steadily at one object, as if from out their light beamed somegentle influence of repose: the curving lines of the red lips, just partedin the interest of listening to what her companion said--the head a littlebent forwards, so as to make a long sweeping line from the summit,where the light caught on the glossy raven hair, to the smooth ivory tipof the shoulder; the round white arms, and taper hands, laid lightlyacross each other, but perfectly motionless in their pretty attitude. Mr.
Thornton sighed as he took in all this with one of his suddencomprehensive glances. And then he turned his back to the youngladies, and threw himself, with an effort, but with all his heart and soul,into a conversation with Mr. Hale.
