"Revenge may have her own;Roused discipline aloud proclaims their cause,And injured navies urge their broken laws."
BYRON.
Margaret began to wonder whether all offers were as unexpectedbeforehand,--as distressing at the time of their occurrence, as the twoshe had had. An involuntary comparison between Mr. Lennox and Mr.
Thornton arose in her mind. She had been sorry, that an expression ofany other feeling than friendship had been lured out by circumstancesfrom Henry Lennox. That regret was the predominant feeling, on thefirst occasion of her receiving a proposal. She had not felt so stunned-soimpressed as she did now, when echoes of Mr. Thornton"s voice yetlingered about the room. In Lennox"s case, he seemed for a moment tohave slid over the boundary between friendship and love; and theinstant afterwards, to regret it nearly as much as she did, although fordifferent reasons. In Mr. Thornton"s case, as far as Margaret knew, therewas no intervening stage of friendship. Their intercourse had been onecontinued series of opposition. Their opinions clashed; and indeed, shehad never perceived that he had cared for her opinions, as belonging toher, the individual. As far as they defied his rock-like power ofcharacter, his passion-strength, he seemed to throw them off from himwith contempt, until she felt the weariness of the exertion of makinguseless protests; and now, he had come, in this strange wild passionateway, to make known his love For, although at first it had struck her, thathis offer was forced and goaded out of him by sharp compassion for theexposure she had made of herself,--which he, like others, mightmisunderstand--yet, even before he left the room,--and certainly, notfive minutes after, the clear conviction dawned upon her, shined brightupon her, that he did love her; that he had loved her; that he would loveher. And she shrank and shuddered as under the fascination of somegreat power, repugnant to her whole previous life. She crept away, andhid from his idea. But it was of no use. To parody a line oat of Fairfax"sTasso-"His strong idea wandered through her thought."
She disliked him the more for having mastered her inner will. Howdared he say that he would love her still, even though she shook him offwith contempt? She wished she had spoken more--stronger. Sharp,decisive speeches came thronging into her mind, now that it was toolate to utter them. The deep impression made by the interview, was likethat of a horror in a dream; that will not leave the room although wewaken up, and rub our eyes, and force a stiff rigid smile upon our lips.
It is there--there, cowering and gibbering, with fixed ghastly eyes, insome corner of the chamber, listening to hear whether we dare tobreathe of its presence to any one. And we dare not; poor cowards thatwe are!
And so she shuddered away from the threat of his enduring love. Whatdid he mean? Had she not the power to daunt him? She would see. Itwas more daring than became a man to threaten her so. Did he ground itupon the miserable yesterday? If need were, she would do the same tomorrow,--by a crippled beggar, willingly and gladly,--but by him, shewould do it, just as bravely, in spite of his deductions, and the coldslime of women"s impertinence. She did it because it was right, andsimple, and true to save where she could save; even to try to save. "Faisce que dois, advienne que pourra."
Hitherto she had not stirred from where he had left her; no outwardcircumstances had roused her out of the trance of thought in which shehad been plunged by his last words, and by the look of his deep intentpassionate eyes, as their flames had made her own fall before them. Shewent to the window, and threw it open, to dispel the oppression whichhung around her. Then she went and opened the door, with a sort ofimpetuous wish to shake off the recollection of the past hour in thecompany of others, or in active exertion. But all was profoundly hushedin the noonday stillness of a house, where an invalid catches theunrefreshing sleep that is denied to the night-hours. Margaret would notbe alone. What should she do? "Go and see Bessy Higgins, of course,"
thought she, as the recollection of the message sent the night beforeflashed into her mind. And away she went.
When she got there, she found Bessy lying on the settle, moved close tothe fire, though the day was sultry and oppressive. She was laid downquite flat, as if resting languidly after some paroxysm of pain. Margaretfelt sure she ought to have the greater freedom of breathing which amore sitting posture would procure; and, without a word, she raised herup, and so arranged the pillows, that Bessy was more at ease, thoughvery languid.
"I thought I should na" ha" seen yo" again," said she, at last, lookingwistfully in Margaret"s face.
"I"m afraid you"re much worse. But I could not have come yesterday, mymother was so ill--for many reasons," said Margaret, colouring.
"Yo"d m"appen think I went beyond my place in sending Mary for yo".
But the wranglin" and the loud voices had just torn me to pieces, and Ithought when father left, oh! if I could just hear her voice, reading mesome words o" peace and promise, I could die away into the silence andrest o" God, lust as a babby is hushed up to sleep by its mother"s lullaby."
"Shall I read you a chapter, now?"
"Ay, do! M"appen I shan"t listen to th" sense, at first; it will seem faraway--but when yo" come to words I like--to th" comforting texts--it"llseem close in my ear, and going through me as it were."
Margaret began. Bessy tossed to and fro. If, by an effort, she attendedfor one moment, it seemed as though she were convulsed into doublerestlessness the next. At last, she burst out "Don"t go on reading. It"s nouse. I"m blaspheming all the time in my mind, wi" thinking angrily onwhat canna be helped.--Yo"d hear of th" riot, m"appen, yesterday atMarlborough Mills? Thornton"s factory, yo" know."
"Your father was not there, was he?" said Margaret, colouring deep.
"Not he. He"d ha" given his right hand if it had never come to pass. It"sthat that"s fretting me. He"s fairly knocked down in his mind by it. It"sno use telling him, fools will always break out o bounds. Yo" never sawa man so down-hearted as he is."
"But why?" asked Margaret. "I don"t understand."