Mrs. Thornton was by no means a talkative companion to Fanny, noryet a good listener while her son was absent. But on his return, her eyesand ears were keen to see and to listen to all the details which he couldgive, as to the steps he had taken to secure himself, and those whom hechose to employ, from any repetition of the day"s outrages. He clearlysaw his object. Punishment and suffering, were the naturalconsequences to those who had taken part in the riot. All that wasnecessary, in order that property should be protected, and that the willof the proprietor might cut to his end, clean and sharp as a sword.
"Mother! You know what I have got to say to Miss Hale, to-morrow?"
The question came upon her suddenly, during a pause in which she, atleast, had forgotten Margaret.
She looked up at him.
"Yes! I do. You can hardly do otherwise."
"Do otherwise! I don"t understand you."
"I mean that, after allowing her feelings so to overcome her, I consideryou bound in honour--"
"Bound in honour," said he, scornfully. "I"m afraid honour has nothing todo with it. "Her feelings overcome her!" What feelings do you mean?"
"Nay, John, there is no need to be angry. Did she not rush down, andcling to you to save you from danger?"
"She did!" said he. "But, mother," continued he, stopping short in his walkright in front of her, "I dare not hope. I never was fainthearted before;but I cannot believe such a creature cares for me."
"Don"t be foolish, John. Such a creature! Why, she might be a duke"sdaughter, to hear you speak. And what proof more would you have, Iwonder, of her caring for you? I can believe she has had a struggle withher aristocratic way of viewing things; but I like her the better forseeing clearly at last. It is a good deal for me to say," said Mrs.
Thornton, smiling slowly, while the tears stood in her eyes; "for after tonight,I stand second. It was to have you to myself, all to myself, a fewhours longer, that I begged you not to go till to-morrow!"
"Dearest mother!" (Still love is selfish, and in an instant he reverted tohis own hopes and fears in a way that drew the cold creeping shadowover Mrs. Thornton"s heart.) "But I know she does not care for me. Ishall put myself at her feet--I must. If it were but one chance in athousand--or a million--I should do it."
"Don"t fear!" said his mother, crushing down her own personalmortification at the little notice he had taken of the rare ebullition of hermaternal feelings--of the pang of jealousy that betrayed the intensity ofher disregarded love. "Don"t be afraid," she said, coldly. "As far as lovemay go she may be worthy of you. It must have taken a good deal toovercome her pride. Don"t be afraid, John," said she, kissing him, as shewished him good-night. And she went slowly and majestically out ofthe room. But when she got into her own, she locked the door, and satedown to cry unwonted tears.
Margaret entered the room (where her father and mother still sat,holding low conversation together), looking very pale and white. Shecame close up to them before she could trust herself to speak.
"Mrs. Thornton will send the water-bed, mamma."
"Dear, how tired you look! Is it very hot, Margaret?"
"Very hot, and the streets are rather rough with the strike."
Margaret"s colour came back vivid and bright as ever; but it faded awayinstantly.
"Here has been a message from Bessy Higgins, asking you to go to her,"
said Mrs. Hale. "But I"m sure you look too tired."
"Yes!" said Margaret. "I am tired, I cannot go."
She was very silent and trembling while she made tea. She was thankfulto see her father so much occupied with her mother as not to notice herlooks. Even after her mother went to bed, he was not content to beabsent from her, but undertook to read her to sleep. Margaret was alone.