"Yes, I do believe you. Let us say no more about it. Where are yougoing to reside, Miss Hale? I understood from Mr. Bell that you weregoing to leave Milton. You never liked Milton, you know," said Mrs.
Thornton, with a sort of grim smile; "but for all that, you must notexpect me to congratulate you on quitting it. Where shall you live?"
"With my aunt," replied Margaret, turning towards Mrs. Shaw.
"My niece will reside with me in Harley Street. She is almost like adaughter to me," said Mrs. Shaw, looking fondly at Margaret; "and I amglad to acknowledge my own obligation for any kindness that has beenshown to her. If you and your husband ever come to town, my son anddaughter, Captain and Mrs. Lennox, will, I am sure, join with me inwishing to do anything in our power to show you attention."
Mrs. Thornton thought in her own mind, that Margaret had not takenmuch care to enlighten her aunt as to the relationship between the Mr.
and Mrs. Thornton, towards whom the fine-lady aunt was extending hersoft patronage; so she answered shortly,"My husband is dead. Mr. Thornton is my son. I never go to London; soI am not likely to be able to avail myself of your polite offers."
At this instant Mr. Thornton entered the room; he had only just returnedfrom Oxford. His mourning suit spoke of the reason that had called himthere.
"John," said his mother, "this lady is Mrs. Shaw, Miss Hale"s aunt. I amsorry to say, that Miss Hale"s call is to wish us good-bye."
"You are going then!" said he, in a low voice.
"Yes," said Margaret. "We leave to-morrow."
"My son-in-law comes this evening to escort us," said Mrs. Shaw.
Mr. Thornton turned away. He had not sat down, and now he seemed tobe examining something on the table, almost as if he had discovered anunopened letter, which had made him forget the present company. Hedid not even seem to be aware when they got up to take leave. Hestarted forwards, however, to hand Mrs. Shaw down to the carriage. Asit drove up, he and Margaret stood close together on the door-step, andit was impossible but that the recollection of the day of the riot shouldforce itself into both their minds. Into his it came associated with thespeeches of the following day; her passionate declaration that there wasnot a man in all that violent and desperate crowd, for whom she did notcare as much as for him. And at the remembrance of her taunting words,his brow grew stern, though his heart beat thick with longing love. "No!"
said he, "I put it to the touch once, and I lost it all. Let her go,--with herstony heart, and her beauty;--how set and terrible her look is now, forall her loveliness of feature! She is afraid I shall speak what will requiresome stern repression. Let her go. Beauty and heiress as she may be,she will find it hard to meet with a truer heart than mine. Let her go!"
And there was no tone of regret, or emotion of any kind in the voicewith which he said good-bye; and the offered hand was taken with aresolute calmness, and dropped as carelessly as if it had been a dead andwithered flower. But none in his household saw Mr. Thornton againthat day. He was busily engaged; or so he said.
Margaret"s strength was so utterly exhausted by these visits, that she hadto submit to much watching, and petting, and sighing "I-told-you-so"s,"
from her aunt. Dixon said she was quite as bad as she had been on thefirst day she heard of her father"s death; and she and Mrs. Shawconsulted as to the desirableness of delaying the morrow"s journey. Butwhen her aunt reluctantly proposed a few days" delay to Margaret, thelatter writhed her body as if in acute suffering, and said:
"Oh! let us go. I cannot be patient here. I shall not get well here. I wantto forget."
So the arrangements went on; and Captain Lennox came, and with himnews of Edith and the little boy; and Margaret found that theindifferent, careless conversation of one who, however kind, was nottoo warm and anxious a sympathiser, did her good. She roused up; andby the time that she knew she might expect Higgins, she was able toleave the room quietly, and await in her own chamber the expectedsummons.
"Eh!" said he, as she came in, "to think of th" oud gentleman dropping offas he did! Yo" might ha" knocked me down wi" a straw when they telledme. "Mr. Hale?" said I; "him as was th" parson?" "Ay," said they.
"Then," said I, "there"s as good a man gone as ever lived on this earth,let who will be t" other!" And I came to see yo", and tell yo" how grievedI were, but them women in th" kitchen wouldn"t tell yo" I were there.
They said yo" were ill,--and butter me, but yo" dunnot look like th" samewench. And yo"re going to be a grand lady up i" Lunnon, aren"t yo"?"
"Not a grand lady," said Margaret, half smiling.
"Well! Thornton said--says he, a day or two ago, "Higgins, have yo" seenMiss Hale?" "No," says I; "there"s a pack o" women who won"t let me ather. But I can bide my time, if she"s ill. She and I knows each otherpretty well; and hoo"l not go doubting that I"m main sorry for th" oudgentleman"s death, just because I can"t get at her and tell her so." Andsays he, "Yo"ll not have much time for to try and see her, my fine chap.
She"s not for staying with us a day longer nor she can help. She"s gotgrand relations, and they"re carrying her off; and we sha"n"t see her nomore." "Measter," said I, "if I dunnot see her afore hoo goes, I"ll striveto get up to Lunnun next Whissuntide, that I will. I"ll not be baulked ofsaying her good-bye by any relations whatsomdever." But, bless yo", Iknowed yo"d come. It were only for to humour the measter, I let on as ifI thought yo"d mappen leave Milton without seeing me."
"You"re quite right," said Margaret. "You only do me justice. And you"llnot forget me, I"m sure. If no one else in Milton remembers me, I"mcertain you will; and papa too. You know how good and how tender hewas. Look, Higgins! here is his bible. I have kept it for you. I can illspare it; but I know he would have liked you to have it. I"m sure you"llcare for it, and study what is In it, for his sake."
"Yo" may say that. If it were the deuce"s own scribble, and yo" axed meto read in it for yo"r sake, and th" oud gentleman"s, I"d do it. Whatten"sthis, wench? I"m not going for to take yo"r brass, so dunnot think it.
We"ve been great friends, "bout the sound o" money passing between us,"
"For the children--for Boucher"s children," said Margaret, hurriedly.
"They may need it. You"ve no right to refuse it for them. I would notgive you a penny," she said, smiling; "don"t think there"s any of it foryou."
"Well, wench! I can nobbut say, Bless yo"! and bless yo"!--and amen."