17. What is a strike? There are brawlers besetting every path, which call for patient care. There is a cross in every lot, and an earnest need for prayer. 19. Margaret went out heavily and unwillingly enough, but the length of a street, yes, the air of a Milton Street, cheered her young blood before she reached her first turning. Her step grew lighter, her lip redder. She began to take notice, instead of having her thoughts turned so exclusively inward. She saw unusual loiterers in the streets. Men with their hands in their pockets, sauntering along, loud laughing and loud spoken girls, clustered together, apparently excited to high spirits and a boisterous independence of temper and behaviour. The more ill-looking of the men, the discredible minority hung about on the steps of the beer houses and gin shops, smoking and commenting pretty freely on every pass-by. Margaret disliked the prospect of the long walk through these streets, before she came to the fields which she had planned to reach. Instead, she would go and see Bessie Higgins. It would not be so refreshing as a quiet country walk, but still it would perhaps be doing the kind of thing. Nicholas Higgins was sitting by the fire smoking, as she went in. Bessie was rocking herself on the other side.  He lent against the chimney piece in a lounging attitude, while she asked Bessie how she was. Who's rather down in the mouth in regard to spirits, but who's better in health? Who doesn't like this strike? Who's a deal too much set on peace and quietness at any price? This is the third strike I've seen, said she, sighing, as if that was answer and explanation enough. Well, third time pays for all. See if we don't dang the masters this time. See if they don't come and beg us to come back at our own price. That's all. We've missed it a full time. I grant ya. But this time, we've made our plans desperate deep. Why do you strike? asked Margaret. Striking is leaving off work till you get your own rate of wages. Is it not? You must not wonder at my ignorance, where I come from I never heard of a strike. I wish I was there, said Bessie, wearingly. But it's not for me to get sick and tired of strikes. This is the last I'll see, before it's ended. I shall be in the great city, the Holy Jerusalem.  Who cannot think of the present? Now, I you see, am bound to do the best I can here. I think a bird either hand is worth two, either bush. So then's the different views we take on the strike question. But, said Margaret, if the people struck, as you call it, where I come from, as they are mostly all field labourers, the seed would not be sown. The hay got in, the corn reaped. Well, said he, he had resumed his pipe and put his well in the form of an interrogation. Why, she went on, what would become of the farmers? He puffed away. I reckon they'd have either to give up their farms or to give fair rate of wage. Suppose they could not, or would not do the last. They could not give up their farms, all in a minute. However much they might wish to do so. But they would have no hay, nor corn to sell that year. And where would the money come from to pay the labourers wages, the next? Still puffin' away, at last, he said. I know nought of your ways down south. I have heard they're a pack of spiritless, downtrodden men, well eclaimed to death. Too much days we're claiming to know when they put upon. Now, it's not so here. We know when we're put up upon. And we're too much blood in us to stand it. We just take our hands from our looms, and say, Yo, may Flemish, but you'll not put upon us, my masters. And be dank to them, they shan't this time. I wish I lived down south, said Bessie. There's a deal to bear there, said Margaret. There are sorrows to bear everywhere. There is very hardly bodily labour to be gone through, with very little food to give strength. But it's outer doors, said Bessie, and away from the endless, endless noise and sickening heat. It's sometimes in heavy rain, and sometimes in bitter cold. A young person can stand it, but an old man gets raked with rheumatism, and bent and withered before his time. Yet he must just work on the same, or else go to the workhouse. I thought Yo was so taken with, the ways of the South Country. So I am, said Margaret, smiling a little, as she found herself thus caught. I only mean, Bessie, there's good and bad in everything in this world. And as you felt the bad up here, I thought it was but fair, you should know the bad down there. And Yo, so they never strived down there, asked Nicholas abruptly. No, said Margaret, I think they have too much sense. And I think, replied he, dashing the ashes out of his pipe, with so much vehemence, that it broke. It's not that they've too much sense, but that they've too little spirit. O father, said Bessie, what have you gained by striking? Think of the first strike when mother died, how we all had to claim, you the worst of all. And yet many a one went in every week at the same wage, till all were gone, in that there was work for. And some went beggars all their lives at after. I've said here, that their strike was badly managed. They've got into the management of it, as were either fills or not true men. You'll see, it'll be different this time. But all this time, you've not told me what you're striking for, said Margaret again. Why, Yo, see, there's five or six masters who have set themselves again, paying the wages they've been paying these two years past, and flourishing upon, and getting richer upon. And now they come to us, and say we're to take less, and we won't. We'll just claim them to death first, and see who'll work for them men. They'll have killed the goose that laid them the golden eggs, I reckon. And so you plan dying, in order to be revenged upon them. No, he said. I done it. I just look forward to the chance of dying at my post sooner than yield. That's what folk call fine and honourable in a soldier, and why not in a poor weaver chap. But, said Margaret, a soldier dies in the cause of the notion, in the cause of others. He laughed grimly, my lass, said he. You're but a young wench, but don't you think I can keep three people? That's Bessie, and Mary, and me, I'm sixteen shilling a week. Don't you think it's worth my soul? I'm striking work at this time.  Only may happen the cause he dies, for is just that of somebody he never clapped eyes on, nor heard on, all his born days. While I take up John Butch's cause, as lives next door but one, we are sickly writhe, and our children, none of them factory age, and I don't take up his cause only, though he's a poor good for naught, as can only manage two looms at a time. But I take up the cause of justice. Why are we to have less wage now? I ask, than two year ago. Don't ask me, said Margaret. I am very ignorant. Ask some of your masters. Surely they will give you a reason for it. It is not merely an arbitrary decision of theirs. Come to without reason. You're just a foreigner, and nothing more, said he, contemptuously. Much you know about it. Ask the masters. They'd tell us to mind our own business, and they'd mind theirs. Our business being, you understand, to take the battered wage, and be thankful, and their business to bait us down to Cleming Point, to swell their profits. That's what it is. But, said Margaret, determine not to give way. Although she knew she was irritating him. The state of trade may be such as not to enable them to give you the same renumeration. State of trade. That's just a piece, a masters' humbug. It's rate of wages I was talking of. The masters keep the state of trade in their own hands, and just walk it forward like a black bugaboo, to frighten naughty children with interbeing good. I'll tell you, it's their part, their cue, as some folks call it, to beat us down, to swell their fortunes, and it's ours to stand up and fight hard, not for ourselves alone, but for them round us, for justice and fair play. We help to make their profits, and we ought to help spend them. It's not that we want their brass so much this time, as we've done many a time before. We're getting money laid by, and we're resolved to stand and fall together. Not a man on us will go in for less wage than the Union says is our due. So I say, hooray for the strike, and let Thornton and Slickson and Hamper, and their set look to it. Thornton, said Margaret, Mr. Thornton of Malbury Street. Aye, Thornton, a Malbury mill. As we call him, he's one of the masters you are striving with. Is he not? What sort of a master is he? Did you ever see a bulldog, set a bulldog on hind legs, and dress him up in a coat and britches, and you're just getting John Thornton? Nah, said Margaret, laughing. I deny that. Mr. Thornton is plain enough, but he's not like a bulldog, with its short broad nose, and snarling up a lip. No, not in look, I grant you. But let John Thornton get hold on an ocean, and he'll stick to it like a bulldog. You might pull him away with the pitchfork, or he'd let go. He's worth fighting with, is John Thornton. As for Slickson, I take it, some of these days he'll weedle these men back with fair promises, that they'll just get cheated out of as soon as they're in his power again. He'll work his fines well out of them. I'll warrant. He's as slippery as an eel. He is. He's like a cat, as sleek and cunning and fierce. It'll never be an honest, up-and-down fight with him, as it will be with Thornton. Thornton's a dower, as a doornail, an obstinate chap, every inch of him, the old bulldog. Poor Bessie, said Margaret, turning round to her. You sigh over it all. You don't like struggling and fighting as your father does, do you? No, said she, heavily. I'm sick of it. I could have wished to have had other talk about me in my latter days, than just the clashing and clanging and clattering that has wearied a my life long, about work and wages and masters and hands and nobsticks. Your wench, latter days be far. Thou, looking a sight better already, for a little stir, change. Beside, I shall be a deal here to make it more lively for thee. Tobacco smoke chokes me, said she, huruselessly. Then I'll never smoke no more, either house. He replied tenderly, but why did thou not tell me afore? Thou foolish wench? I did not speak for a while, and then so lo that only Margaret heard her. I reckon he'll want the comfort he can get out of either pipe or drink afore he's done. Her father went out of doors, evidently to finish his pipe. Bessie said passionately, Now am I not a fool? Am I not miss? There, I knew I oughtful to keep father at home and away from the folk that are always ready, full to tempt him, in time astride, to go drink, and there my tongue must need quarrel with this pipe of his in. And he'll go up, I know he will, as often as he wants to smoke, and nobody knows where it'll end. I wish I'd let myself be choked first. But does your father drink? asked Margaret. Not to say drink, replied she, still in the same wild, excited tone. But what would you have? There are days with you, as with other folks. I suppose, when you get up and go through the hours, just longing for a bit of a change, a bit of a fillip, as it were. I know I have gone and bought a four pounder out of another baker's shop to come on such days, just because I sickened at the thought of going on forever with the same sight in my eyes, and the same sound in my ears, and the same taste in my mouth, and the same thought, or no thought, for that matter. In my head, day after day, forever, I've longed for to be a man to go spring, even if it were only a tramp to some new place to search to work. And father, all men, have it stronger in them than me to get tired of sameness and work forever. And what is them to do? It's little blame to them if they do go into the gin shop for to make their blood flow quicker, and more lively, and see things they never see at no other time, pictures and looking glass, and such like. Father never was a drunkard, though maybe he's got worse for drink, now and then. Only you see, and now her voice took a mournful, pleading tone. At times, it's right, there's much to knock a man down, for all they start so hopefully, and where's the comfort to come from? He'll get angry and mad, they all do, and then they get tired out with being angry and mad, and maybe had done things in their passion they'd be glad to forget.  Come, Bessie, said Margaret, I won't say you're exaggerating, because I don't know enough about it, but perhaps, as you're not well, you're only looking on one side, and there is another, and a brighter to be looked to. It's all well enough for you to say so. Who have lived in pleasant green places all your life long, and never known want or care, or wickedness either, for that matter.  How you judge, Bessie, I shall go home to my mother, who is so ill, so ill, Bessie, that there's no outlet but death for her and great suffering, and yet I must speak cheerfully to my father, who has no notion of her real state, and to whom the knowledge must come gradually. The only person, the only one, who could sympathise with me and help me, whose presence could comfort my mother more than any other earthly thing is falsely accused, would run the risk of death for my mother. This I tell you, only you, Bessie, you must not mention it. No other person in Milton, hardly any other person in Ningong knows. Have I not care? Do I not know anxiety, though I go about well-dressed and have food enough? O Bessie, God is just, and our lots are well portioned out by him, although none but he knows the bitterness of our souls. I ask your pardon, replied Bessie, humbly, sometimes when I've thought my life and the little pleasures I've had in it, I believe that maybe I was one of those doomed to die by the falling of a star from heaven, and the name of the star is called Wormwood, and the third part of the waters became Wormwood, because they were made bitter. One can bear pain and sorrow better if one thinks it has been prophesied long before, for one. Somehow, then it seems as if my pain was needed for the fulfillment. Otherwise, it seems all sent for nothing. No, Bessie, think, said Margaret. God does not willingly afflict. Don't dwell so much on the prophecies, but read the clearer parts of the Bible. I dare say it would be wiser, but where would I hear such grand words of promise? Here tell, O anything so far different from this dreary well and this town above, as in revelations. Many's the time I've repeated the verses in the seventh chapter to myself, just for the sound. It's as good as an organ as different from every day too. No, I cannot give up revelations. It gives me more comfort than any other book in the Bible. Let me come and read you some of my favourite chapters. I, said she, greedily, come. Father will maybe hear. He's Steve Woodman talking. He says it's all not to do with the things at today. And that's his business. Where is your sister? Gone fusty and cutting. I will love to let her go, but somehow we must live, and the Union can't afford as much. Now I must go. You have done me good, Bessie. I've done you good. Yes, I came here very sad and rather too apt to think my own cause for grief was the only one in the world. And now I hear how you have had to bear for years. And that makes me stronger. Bless you. I thought that the good doing was on the side of gentle folk. I shall get proud if I think I can do good to you. You won't do it if you think about it, but you'll only puzzle yourself if you do. That's one comfort. You're not like no one I ever see. I don't know what to make of you. You're not of my soul. Goodbye. Bessie stilled her rocking to gaze after her. I wonder if there are many folk like her down south.  She freshes me up above a bit. Who'd have thought that face as bright and strong as the angel I dream of could have known the sorrow she speaks on? I wonder how she'll sin. I don't ask my sin. I think a deal on her, for sure. But father does the life I see. And Mary even, it's not often who's stirred up to notice much. End of Chapter 17 Chapter 18 of North and South This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Leanne Howlett North and South by Elizabeth Clegghorn Gaskell Chapter 18 Likes and Dislikes My heart revolts within me and two voices make themselves audible within my bosom. Wallenstein On Margaret's return home she found two letters on the table. One was a note for her mother the other, which had come by the post was evidently from her aunt Shaw covered with foreign post marks thin, silvery and rustling. She took up the other and was examining it when her father came in suddenly.  I'm afraid such a thundery day was not the best in the world for the doctor to see her. What did he say? Dixon tells me he spoke to you about her. Margaret hesitated. Her father's looks became more grave and anxious. He does not think her seriously ill. Not at present, she needs care, he says. He was very kind and said he would call again and see how his medicines worked. Only care. He did not recommend change of air. He did not say this smoky town was doing her any harm, did he, Margaret? No, not a word, she replied gravely. He was anxious, I think. You have that anxious manner. It's professional, said he. Margaret saw in her father's nervous ways that the first impression of possible danger was made upon his mind in spite of all his making light of what she told him. He could not forget the subject, could not pass from it to other things. He kept recurring to it through the evening with an unwillingness to receive even the slightest unfavorable idea which made Margaret inexpressibly sad. This letter is from Aunt Shaw, Pa Pa. She has got to Naples and finds it too hot, so she has taken apartments at Sorrento. But I don't think she likes Italy. He did not say anything about diet, did he? It was to be nourishing and adjustable. Mama's appetite is pretty good, I think. Yes, and that makes it all the more strange he should have thought of speaking about diet. I asked him, Pa Pa, another pause. Then Margaret went on. Aunt Shaw says she has sent me some coral ornaments, Pa Pa. But, added Margaret, half smiling, she's afraid the Milton dissenters won't appreciate them. She has got all her ideas of dissenters from the Quakers, has not she? If ever you hear or notice that your mother wishes for anything, be sure to let me know. I am so afraid she does not tell me always what she would like. Pray, see after that girl Mrs. Thornton named. A good, efficient house servant. Dixon could be constantly with her and I'd answer for it, we'd soon set her up amongst us, if care will do it. She's been very much tired of late with the hot weather and the difficulty of getting a servant. A little rest will put her quite to rights, eh, Margaret? I hope so, said Margaret, but so sadly that her father took notice of it. He pinched her cheek. Come, if you look so pale as this, I must be a little.  But he could not settle to anything that evening. He was continually going backwards and forwards on laborious tiptoe to see if his wife was still asleep. Margaret's heart ached at his restlessness, his trying to stifle and strangle the hideous fear that was looming out of the dark places of his heart. He came back at last, somewhat comforted. She's awake now, Margaret. She quite smiled as she saw me standing by her. That's her old smile. And she says she feels refreshed and ready for tea. Where's the note for her? She wants to see it. I'll read it to her while you make tea. The note proved to be a formal invitation from Mrs. Thornton to Mr., Mrs. and Ms. Hale to dinner on the 21st instant. Margaret was surprised to find an acceptance contemplated. After all, she had learned of sad probabilities during her stay. But so it was. The idea of her husbands and daughters going to this dinner had quite captivated Mrs. Hale's fancy even before Margaret had heard the contents of the note. It was an event to diversify the monotony of the invalid's life. And she clung to the idea of their going with even fretful portennacity when Margaret objected. Nay, Margaret? If she wishes it, I'm sure we'll both go willingly. She never would wish it unless she felt really stronger, really better than we thought she was. A. Margaret? Said Mr. Hale anxiously as she prepared to write the note of acceptance the next day. A. Margaret? Questioned he with the nervous motion of his hands. It seemed cruel to refuse him the comfort he craved for, and besides his passionate refusal to admit the existence of fear almost inspired Margaret herself with hope. I do think she is better since last night, said she. I do think she is much brighter in her complexion clearer. God bless you, said her father earnestly, but is it true? Yesterday was so sultry everyone felt ill. It was the most unlucky day for Mr. Donaldson to see her on. So he went away to his day's duties now increased by the preparation of some lectures he had promised to deliver to the working people at a neighboring lyceum. He had chosen ecclesiastical architecture as his subject, rather more in accordance with his own taste and knowledge than is falling in with the character of the place or the desire for particular kinds of information among those to whom he was to lecture. And the institution itself, being in debt, was only too glad to get a gratis course from an educated and accomplished man like Mr. Hale, let the subject be what it might. Well mother, asked Mr. Thornton that night, who have accepted your invitations for the twenty first? Fanny, where are the notes? The Six Sins accept, Collingbrook's accept, Stevenson's accept, Brown's decline, Hale's father and daughter come, Mother Too Great and Envalid, McPherson's come, and Mr. Horsefall, and Mr. Young. I was thinking of asking the porters as the Browns can't come. Very good. Do you know I'm really afraid Mrs. Hale is very far from well from what Dr. Donaldson says. It's strange of them to accept a dinner invitation if she's very ill, said Fanny. I didn't say very ill, said her brother rather sharply. I only said very far from well. They may not know it either. And then he suddenly remembered that from what Dr. Donaldson had told him, Margaret at any rate must be aware of the exact state of the case. Very probably they are quite aware of what you said yesterday, John, of the great advantage it would be to be introduced to such people as the Stevenson's and the Colin Brooks. I'm sure that motive would not influence them. No, I think I understand how it is. John, said Fanny, laughing in her little weak nervous way. How you profess to understand these hails and how you never will allow that we can know anything about them. Are they really so very different to most people one meets with? She did not mean to vex him. But if she had intended it, she could not have done it more thoroughly. He chafed in silence, however, not daining to reply to her question. They do not seem to me out of the common way, said Mrs. Thornton. He appears a worthy kind of man enough, rather too simple for trade, so it's perhaps as well he should have been a clergyman first and now a teacher. She's a bit of a fine lady with her invalidism. And as for the girl, she's the only one who puzzles me when I think about her, which I don't often do. She seems to have a great notion of giving herself heirs, and I can't make out why. I could almost fancy she thinks herself too good for her company at times. And yet they're not rich from all I can hear they never have been. And she's not accomplished, Mama. She can't play. Go on, Fanny. What else does she want to bring her up to your standard? Nay, John, said his mother, that speech of Fanny's did no harm. I myself heard Miss Hale say she could not play. If you would let us alone, we would perhaps like her and see her merits. I'm sure I never could, murmured Fanny, protected by her mother. Mr. Thornton heard, but did not care to reply. He was walking up and down the dining room, wishing that his mother would order candles and allow him to set to work at either reading or writing, and so put a stop to the conversation. But he never thought of interfering in any of the small domestic regulations that Mrs. Thornton observed in habitual remembrance of her old economies. Mother said he, stopping and bravely speaking out the truth, I wish you would like Miss Hale. Why? Asked she, startled by his earnest yet tender manner. You're never thinking of marrying her, a girl without a penny. She would never have me, said he with a short laugh. No, I don't think she would, answered his mother. She laughed in my face and praised her for speaking out something Mr. Bell had said in your favor. I liked the girl for doing it so frankly, for it made me sure she had no thought of you, and the next minute she vexed me so by seeming to think, well, never mind. Only you're right in saying she's too good an opinion of herself to think of you, the saucy jade. I should like to know where she'd find a better. If these words hurt her son, the dusky light prevented him from betraying any emotion. Quite cheerfully to his mother, and putting one hand lightly on her shoulder, said, Well, as I'm just as much convinced of the truth of what you have been saying, as you can be, and as I have no thought or expectation of ever asking her to be my wife, you'll believe me for the future that I'm quite disinterested in speaking about her. I foresee trouble for that girl, perhaps want of motherly care, and I only wish you to be ready to be a friend to her in case she needs one. Now Fanny, said he, I trust you have delicacy enough to understand that it is as great an injury to Miss Hale as to me. In fact, she would think it a greater to suppose that I have any reason more than I now give for begging you and my mother to show her every kindly attention. I cannot forgive her her pride, said his mother. I will befriend her if there is need for your asking, John. I would befriend Jezebel herself if you asked me.  Contempt indeed. Don't go on speaking of Miss Hale, John, if I've got to be kind to her. When I'm with her, I don't know if I like or dislike her most, but when I think of her and hear you talk of her, I hate her. I can see she's given herself heirs to you as well as if you told me out. And if she has, said he, and then he paused for a moment, then went on, I'm not allowed to be cowed by a proud look from a woman or to care for her misunderstanding me in my position. I can laugh at it. To be sure, and at her too, with her fine notions and haughty tosses. I only wonder why you talk so much about her then, said Fanny. I'm sure I'm tired enough of the subject. Well, said her brother, with a shade of bitterness, suppose we find some more agreeable subject. What do you say to a strike by way of something pleasant to talk about? Have the hands actually turned out, as Mrs. Thornton with vivid interest? Hamper's men are actually out. Mine are working out their week through fear of being prosecuted for breach of contract, I'd have had every one of them up and punished for it, that left his work before his time was out. The law expenses would have been more if the hands themselves were worth, a set of ungrateful knots, said his mother. To be sure, but I'd have shown them how I keep my word and how I mean them to keep theirs. They know me by this time. Slickson's men are off. Pretty certain he won't spend money in getting them punished. We're in for a turnout, mother. I hope there are not many orders in hand. Of course there are. They know that well enough, but they don't quite understand, what do you mean, John? Candles have been brought, and Fanny had taken up her interminable piece of worsted work, over which she was yawning, throwing herself back in her chair from time to time to gaze at vacancy and think of nothing at her ease. Why, said he, the Americans are getting their yarn so into the general market that our only chance is producing them at a lower rate. If we can't, we may shut up shop at once, and hands and masters go alike on tramp. We must go back to the prices paid three years ago. Nay, some of their leaders quote Dickinson's prices now, though they know as well as we do that what with fines pressed out of their wages as no honorable man would extort them and other ways which I for one would scorn to use, the real rate of wage paid at Dickinson's is less than at ours. Upon my word, mother, I wish the old combination laws were in force. It is too bad to find out that fools, ignorant wayward men like these, just by uniting their weak, silly heads, are to rule over the fortunes of those who bring all the wisdom that knowledge and experience and often painful thought and anxiety can give. The next thing will be, indeed, we're all but come to it now, that we shall have to go and ask, stand had in hand and humbly ask the secretary of the Spinner's Union to be so kind as to furnish us with labor at their own price. That's what they want, they who have the sense to see that. If we don't get a fair share of the profits we share and tear here in England, we can move off to some other country and that, what with home and foreign competition, we are none of us likely to make above a fair share and maybe thankful enough if we can get that in an average number of years. Can't you get hands from Ireland? I wouldn't keep these fellows a day. I teach them that I was master and could employ what servants I liked. Yes, to be sure I can and I will too if they go on long. It will be trouble and expense and there will be some danger, but I will do it rather than give in. If there is to be all this extra expense I'm sorry we're giving a dinner just now. So am I, not because of the expense but because I shall have much to think about and many unexpected calls on my time but we must have had Mr. Horsefall and he does not stay in Milton Long. And as for the others, we owe them dinners and it's all one trouble. He kept on with his restless walk and he didn't know what he was doing anymore but drawing a deep breath from time to time as if endeavoring to throw off some annoying thought. Fanny asked her mother numerous small questions all having nothing to do with a subject which a wiser person would have perceived was occupying her attention. Consequently she received many short answers. She was not sorry when at ten o'clock the servants filed into prayers. These her mother always read first reading a chapter. They were now working steadily through the Old Testament. When prayers were ended and his mother had wished him good night with that long steady look of hers which conveyed no expression of the tenderness that was in her heart but yet had the intensity of a blessing Mr. Thornton continued his walk. All his business plans had received a check a sudden pull up from this approaching turnout. The forethought of many anxious hours was thrown away utterly wasted by their insane folly which would injure themselves even more than him to set any limit to the mischief they were doing. And these were the men who thought themselves fitted to direct the masters in the disposal of their capital. Hamper had said only this very day that if he were roined by the strike he would start life again comforted by the conviction that those who brought it on were in a worse predicament than he himself for he had had as well as hands while they had only hands and if they drove away their market they could not follow it nor turn to anything else. His thought was no consolation to Mr. Thornton. It might be that revenge gave him no pleasure. It might be that he valued the position he had earned with the sweat of his brow so much that he keenly felt it's being endangered by the ignorance or folly of others so keenly that he had no thoughts to spare for what would be the consequences of their conduct to themselves. He paced up and down setting his teeth a little now and then. At last it struck two. The candles were flickering in their sockets. He lighted his own muttering to himself. Once for all they shall know whom they have got to deal with. I can give them a fortnight, no more. If they don't see their madness before the end of that time I must have hands from Ireland. I believe it's Slickson's doing confound him in his dodges. He thought he was over stocked so he seemed to yield at first when the deputation came to him and of course he only confirmed them in their folly as he meant to do. That's where it spread from. CHAPTER 19 OF NORTH AND SOUTH This is a LibriVox Recording. A LibriVox Recording is in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Gemma Blath North and South by Elizabeth Glacoland Gaskell Chapter 19 Angel Visits As angels in some brighter dreams call to the soul a man doth sleep so some strange thoughts transcend our wanton themes an interglory peep Henry Vaughn Miss Sale was curiously amused and interested by the idea of the Thornton dinner party. She kept wondering about the details with something of the simplicity of a little child who wants to have all its anticipated pleasures described beforehand. But the monotonous love makes them like children and as much as they have neither of them any sense of proportion in events and seem each to believe that the walls and curtains would shut in their world and shut out everything else must of necessity be larger than anything hidden beyond. Besides, Miss Sale had had her vanities as a girl had perhaps unduly felt their mortification when she became a poor clergyman's wife and mothered and kept down but they were not extinct and she liked to think of seeing Margaret dressed for a party and discussed what she should wear with an unsettled anxiety that amused Margaret who had been more accustomed to society in her one in Harley Street than her mother in five in twenty years of Hellstone.  Are you sure it will fit? It's nearly a year since Edith was married. Oh, yes, Mama. Mrs. Murray made it and it's sure to be right. It may be a straw's breath, shorter or longer wasted, according to my haven't grown fowl or thin but I don't think I've altered in the least. Hadn't you better let Dixon see it? It may have gone yellow with line by. If you like, Mama, but if the worst comes to the worst of a very nice pink gauze which Alan Shaw gave me only due to three months before Edith was married I can't have gone yellow. No, but it may have faded. Well, then have a green silk. I feel more as if it was the embarrassment of riches. I wish I knew what you oughta wear than Mrs. Hale nervously. Margaret's manner changed instantly. Shall I go and put them on one after another, Mama? And then you could see what you liked best? But yes, that will be best. So off Margaret went. She was very much inclined when she was dressed up at such an unusual hour to make her rich white silk balloon out into a cheese to retreat backwards from her mother as if she were the queen. But when she found that these freaks of us were regarded as interruptions to the serious business and as such annoyed a mother she became grave and sedate. What had possessed the world, her world, to fidget so about her dress she could not understand. But that very afternoon on naming her engagement to Bessie Higgins apropos of the servant that Mrs. Thornton had promised to inquire about Bessie Guat roused up at the intelligence. Dear, and are you going to Dine at Thornton's at Marlborough Mills? Yes, Bessie. Why are you so surprised? I don't know. But they visit with the first folk in Milton. And you don't think we're quite the first folk in Milton, eh, Bessie? Bessie's cheeks flushed a little at being thus easily read. Well, say, gee, you see, they thinkin' a deal of money here and I reckon you've not gotten much. No, said Margaret. That's very true. But we are educated people and have lived amongst educated people. Is there anything so wonderful in our being asked out to dinner by a man who owns himself inferior to my father by coming to him to be instructed? I don't mean to blame Mr. Thornton. Few draper's assistants, as he was once, could have made themselves what he is.  Thornton's house is three times as big. Well, I think we could manage to give Mr. Thornton a dinner back, as you call it. Perhaps not in such a large room, nor with so many people. But I don't think we've thought about it at all in that way. I never thought you'd be dining with Thornton's, repeated Bessie, and may her self-dine there and the members of Parliament and all. I think I could support the honour of meeting the mayor of Milton. But them ladies dressed so grand, said Bessie, with an anxious look at Margaret's print gown, which her Milton eyes appraised at seven pence a yard. Margaret's face dimpled up into a mirror-laugh. Thank you, Bessie, for thinking so kindly about my looking nice among all the smart people. But I've plenty of grand gowns. A week ago I should have said they were far too grand for anything I should ever want again. But as I'm to dine at Mr. Thornton's and perhaps to meet the mayor, I shall put on my very best gown. You may be sure. What would you wear, asked Bessie, somewhat relieved. What silk, said Margaret, a gown I had for a cousin's wedding a year ago. That'll do, said Bessie, falling back in her chair. I should be loath to have you look down upon. Oh, I'll be fine enough if that will save me from being looked down upon in Milton. I wish I could see you dressed up, said Bessie. I reckon you're not what folk would call pretty. You're not red and white enough for that. But don't you know, I had dream of you long and forever I'd see you. Nonsense, Bessie. Ah, but I did.  And you always came to give me strength, which I seemed to gather out of your deep, comforted eyes. And you were dressed in shine and raiment, just as you're going to be dressed. So, you see, it was you. Nay, Bessie, said Margaret gently. It was but a dream. But why might not I dream a dream in my affliction as well as others? Did not many a one in the Bible? I didn't see visions, too. While even my father thinks a deal of dreams I'd tell you again, I saw you as plainly come and swiftly towards me, with your hair blown back, with the very swiftness of emotion.  Come and see in it. I want to see and touch it. Isn't there a deed you were in my dream?  You've come, as I knew you would. When I saw you movement in my dream, and when you hear about me, I reckon I feel easier in my mind and comforted, just as a fire comforts one on a dreary day. You said it were on the twenty-first. Please, God, I'll come and see you. Oh, Bessie, you may come and welcome, but don't talk so. It really makes me sorry it does indeed. Then I'll keep it to myself if I bop my tongue out. Not but what it's true for all that. Margaret was silent. At last she said, Let us talk about it sometimes if you think it true. But not now. Tell me, has your father turned out? He said Bessie heavily, in a manner very different from that she had spoken in but a minute or two before. He and many another. All hampers men, and many a one besides. The women are as bad as the men in their savageness this time. Food is high, and the men have food for their children, I reckon. Suppose Thornton sent them their dinner out. The same money spent on potatoes and meal would keep many a cry and hush up its mother's heart for a bit. Don't speak so, said Margaret. You'll make me feel wicked and guilty in going to this dinner. No, said Bessie. Some pre-elected just sumptuous feasts and purple and fine linen. Maybe you're one on them. Others told and moiled all their lives long and the very dogs are not pitiful in our days, as they were in the days of Lazarus. But if you ask me to cool your tongue with the tip of my finger I'll come across the great gulf to you just for the thought of what you've been to me here. Bessie, you're very feverish. I can tell it in the touch of your hand as well as in what you're saying. It won't be division enough in that awful day that some of us have been beggars here and some of us have been rich. We shall not be judged by that poor accident but by our faithful following of crossed. Margaret got up and found some water and she laid the cool wetness on Bessie's forehead and began to shave the stone-cold feet.  At last she said you'd have been dived out of your five wits as well as me if you'd have one body after another coming in to ask a father and stand to tell me each one their tale. Some spoke a deadly hatred and made my blood run cold with the terrible things they said of the masters but more, being women, kept plain and plain and with the tears running down their cheeks they never warped away nor heeded of the price of meat and how their children could not sleep at night for the hunger. And do they think the strike will mend this house Margaret? They say so replied Bessie. They do say trade has been good for long and the masters have been no end for any how much father doesn't know but of course the union does and as it's natural they're wanting their share of the profits now that food is getting dear and the union says they'll not be doing their duty if they don't make the masters give them their share but masters has gotten the upper hand somehow and I'm feared they'll keep it now and ever more. It's like the great battle of Armageddon running and fighting at each other till even while they fight they are picked off into the pit. Just then, Nicholas Higgins came in he called his daughters last words and I'll fight on too and I'll get it this time it'll not take long for them to make them give in where they've gotten a pretty lot of orders all under contract and they'll soon find out that better give us our 5% than lose the profit they'll gain let alone the fine than not fulfilling the contract I'm our masters I know when Margaret fancied from his manner that he must have been drinking not so much from what he said as from the excited way in which he spoke and she was rather confirmed in this idea by the evident anxiety Bessie showed to hasten her departure Bessie said to her the 21st that's the first week I may come and see you dressed with thorns what time is your dinner? before Margaret could answer Higgins broke out Thorntons, are they going to dine with Thorntons? ask him to give you a bumper to the success of his orders by the 21st I reckon he'll be parted in his brains at a get them done in time tell him there's 700 come marching into Marlborough Mills a morning after he gives the 5% and will help him through his contract you'll have them all there a master, a hamper he's one of the old fashioned thought never meets a man but an oath or a curse I should think he were going to die if he spoke miscivil but after all his barks were some spot and you may tell him one of his turnouts said so if you like but you'll have a lot of bra's mill owners at Thorntons I should like to get speech of them for a bit inclined to sit still after dinner and can they run for the life on him I'd tell him my mind I'd speak up again the hard way they're driving on us goodbye said Margaret Hastley goodbye Bessie I shall look to see you on the 21st if you're well enough the medicines and treatment which Dr. Donaldson had ordered for Mrs. Hale did have so much good at first that not only she herself but Margaret began to hope that she might have been mistaken and that she could recover permanently as for Mr. Hale although he had never had an idea of the serious nature of their apprehensions he triumphed over their fears with an evident relief which proved how much his glimpse into the nature of them had affected him only Dixon groped forever into Margaret's ear however Margaret defied the raven and would hope they needed this gleam of brightness in doors for out of doors even to their uninstructed eyes there was a gloomy, brooding appearance of discontent Mr. Hale had his own acquaintances among the working men and was depressed with their honestly told tales of suffering and long endurance they would have scorned to speak of what they had to bear to anyone who might from his position have understood it without their words who was perplexed by the workings of the system into the midst of which he was thrown and each was eager to make him a judge and to bring witness of his own causes for irritation then Mr. Hale brought all his budget of grievances and laid it before Mr. Thornton for him with his experiences a master to arrange them and explain their origin which he always did on sound economical principles showing that his trade was conducted must always be a wax and wane of commercial prosperity and that in the waning a certain number of masters as well as of men must go down into ruin and be no more seen among the ranks of the happy and prosperous he spoke as if this consequence was so entirely logical that neither employers nor employed had any right to complain if it became their fate the employer had to turn aside and no longer run with a bitter sense of incompetency and failure wounded in the struggle trampled down by his fellows in their haste to get rich slidered where he once was on it humbly asking for instead of bestowing employment with a lordly hand of course speaking so of the fate that as a master might be his own in the fluctuations of commerce he would have more sympathy with that of the workmen who were passed by in the swift merciless improvement or alteration who would faint lie down and quietly die out of the world that needed them not but felt as if they could never rest in their graves for the glinging cries of the beloved and helpless they would leave behind who envied the power of the wild bird Margaret's whole soul rose up against him while he reasoned in this way as if commerce were everything and humanity nothing she could hardly thank him for the individual kindness which brought him that very evening to offer her for the delicacy which made him understand that he must offer her privately every convenience for illness that his own wealth or his mother's forethought had caused them to wait in their household and which as he learned from Dr. Donaldson Mrs. Hall might possibly require his presence after the way he had spoken is bringing before her the doom which she was vainly trying to persuade herself might yet be averted from the mother all conspired to set Margaret's teeth on edge as she looked at and listened to him what business had he to be except Dr. Donaldson and Dixon admitted to the awful secret which she held shut up in the most dark and sacred recess of her heart not daring to look at it unless she invoked heavenly strength to bear the sod that someday soon she should cry loud for her mother and no answer would come out of the blank, dumb darkness yet he knew all she saw it in his bidding eyes but she heard it in his grave and tremulous voice how, reconcile those eyes that voice with the hard reasoning draw merciless way in which he had laid down axioms of trade and serenely followed them out to their full consequences the discord jarred upon her inexpressibly the more because of the gathering woe which she heard from Bessie to be sure her father spoke differently he had been appointed a committee man and said that he knew secrets of which the exoteric knew nothing he said this more expressly and particularly on the very day before Mrs. Thornton's dinner party when Margaret going in to speak to Bessie found him arguing the point with Boucher the neighbor of whom she had frequently heard mention as by turns exciting Higgins' compassion as an unskillful workman with a large family depending upon him for support and at other times enraging his more energetic and sanguine neighbor by his want of what the latter called spirit it was very evident that Higgins was in a passion when Margaret ended Boucher stood with both hands on the rather high mantelpiece swaying himself a little on the support which his arms thus placed gave him looked wildly into the fire with a kind of despair that irritated Higgins even while it went to his heart Bessie was rocking herself violently backwards and forwards as was her want Margaret knew by this time when she was agitated her sister Mary was tying on her bonnet in great clumsy bows as suited her great clumsy fingers to go to her fustion cutting blubbering out loud the while longing to be away from the scene that distressed her Margaret gave me an upon the scene she stood for a moment at the door then her finger on her lips she stole to a seat on the squab near Bessie Nicola saw her come in and greeted her with a gruff foot not unfriendly nod Mary heard out of the house catching gladly at the open door and crying aloud when she got away from her father's presence a culture that took no notice whatever who came in and who went out it's no you Higgins who could not live long in this who's just sinking away not for one to meet herself but because who could not stay on the side of the little ones Glamon ah Glamon five shell in a week may do well enough for thee with but two mouths to fill and one of them a wench who can well earn her own meat but it's Glamon to us and I tell thee plain if who dies is I'm feared who will of four we've gotten the five percent I'll fling the money back in the master's face and say be dumb to you be dumb to the whole world of you that could leave me the best wife that ever bore children to a man and look thee lad I'll hate thee and the whole back of the union and in Jesus through heaven with my hatred I will lad, I will if you're leading me astray in this matter that's it on Wednesdays at night and it's now Tuesday in the second week that a full fortnight we have the master's coming to beg and do us to take back our work at our own wage and Dom's nearly up and there's our little Jack lying in bed too weak to cry but just every now and then sobbing up his heart for one of food our little Jack, I tell thee lad who's never looked up since he was born and who loves him as if he were her very life as he is for I reckon he'll have cost me that precious brass our little Jack who waking me each morning with puttin' his sweet little lips to my great, rough-for-face a seekin' a smooth blaze to kiss an' Elias Clement here's the deep sigh and Nicholas looked up with eyes brimful of tears to Margaret before he could gain courage to speak held up, man that little Jack shall necklamp I hate gettin' brass and will go by the chap a supper milk and a good four pounder this fair a minute what's mine, thine sure enough, I thought once on the donut loose halt, man continued he as he fumbled in a teapot for what money he had I lay you my heart and soul will win for all this it's but bearing on one more week and you can just see the way the masters will come round prayin' on us to come back to the mills and the union that's to say I will take care of you enough for the children and the missus so don't turn faint heart and go to the tyrants as he can work the man turned round at these words turning round a face so white and gaunt and tear furrowed and hopeless that it's very calm force Margaret to weep you know well that a wolf's a tyrant and ere the masters will say clam to death and see him a clam to death or you go dare go against the union you know it well, Nicholas for you're one on him you may be kind hearts each separate but once banded together you'd know more pity for a man than a wild hunger mountain wolf he sat his hand on the lock of the door he stopped and turned around on voucher close following so help my god man alive if I think not I'm doing best for thee and for all on us if I'm going wrong when I think I'm going right it's their sin well left me where I am in my ignorance I have thought that my brains ached believe me John I have and I say again there's no help for us but having faith in the union they'll win the day see if they don't not one word had Margaret or Bessie spoken they had hardly uttered the sign that the eyes of each other called to the other to bring up from the tips of her heart at last Bessie said I never thought to your father call on God again but you heard him so help me God yes said Margaret let me bring you what money I can spare let me bring you a little food for your friends children don't let them know it comes from anyone but your father it will be but little Bessie lay back without taking any notice of what Margaret said she did not cry she only quivered up her breath my heart strained dry her tears she said voucher's been in these days past telling me of his fears and his troubles he's but a weak kind of chap I know but he's a man for I've been angry many a time before now with him and his wife as new no more nor him how to manage yet you see all folks isn't wise yet God lets them live and gives them someone to love and be loved by just as good as Solomon and if sorrow comes to them they love it hurts them as sore as ever it did Solomon I can't make it out perhaps it's as well such a one as voucher as the union to see after him but I'd just like to see the mean as make the union and put him one by one face to face with voucher I reckon if they heard him they'd tell him if I caught him one by one he might go back and get what he could for his work even if it weren't so much as they ordered Margaret sat utterly silent how was she ever to go away into comfort and forget that man's voice with the tone of unutterable agony telling more by far than his words of what he had to suffer she took out of us she had not much in it of what she could call her own but what she had she put into Bessie's hand without speaking thank you there's many on him gets no more and is not so bad off least whilst does not show it as he does but father won't let him want now he knows you see voucher's been pulled down with his children and her being so cranky and they could pawn has gone this last twelve month you're not to think we had let them claim for all we're a bit pressed ourselves if neighbors doesn't see after neighbors I don't know who will Bessie seemed almost afraid lest Margaret should think they had not the will and agree the power of help in one whom she evidently regarded as having a claim upon them besides she went on father is sure and positive the masters must give in within these next few days that they cannot hold on much longer but I thank you all the same I thank you for myself as much as voucher for it just makes my heart warm to you more and more Bessie seemed much quieter today but fearfully languid and exhausted as she finished speaking she looked so faint and weary that Margaret became alarmed it's now said Bessie it's not death yet I had a fearful night with dreams or somewhat locked dreams for I were wide awake and I'm all in a swan in days today only in poor chap made me alive again no it's not death yet but death is not far off I cover me up and I may be sleep good night good afternoon mappin I should say but the light is dim and misty today end of chapter 19 recorded by Gemma Bloth chapter 20 of north and south this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Leanne Howlett north and south by Elizabeth Clegghorn Gaskell chapter 20 men and gentlemen old and young boy let them all eat I have it let them have ten tire of teeth of peace I care not Rollo Duke of Normandy Margaret went home so painfully occupied with what she had heard she hardly knew how to rouse herself up to the duties which awaited her the necessity for keeping up a constant flow of cheerful conversation for her mother who, now that she was unable to go out always looked to Margaret's return from the shortest walk as bringing in some news and can your factory friend come on Thursday to see you dressed she was so ill I never thought of asking her said Margaret dolefully dear everybody is ill now Mrs. Hale with a little of the jealousy which one invalid is apt to feel of another but it must be very sad to be ill on one of those little back streets her kindly nature prevailing and the old health and habits of thought returning it's bad enough here what could you do for her Margaret Mr. Thornton has sent me some of his old port wine since you went out would a bottle of that do her good thank you no mama I don't believe they are very poor at least they don't speak as if they were and at any rate Bessie's illness is consumption she won't want wine perhaps I might take her a little preserve made of our dear health and fruit no there's another family to whom I should like to give oh mama mama how am I to dress up in my finery and go off in a way to smart parties after the sorrow I have seen today exclaimed Margaret bursting the bounds she had preordained for herself before she came in as her mother of what she had seen and heard Higgins cottage it distressed Mrs. Hale excessively it made her restlessly irritated till she could do something she directed Margaret to pack up a basket in the very drawing room to be sent there and then to the family and was almost angry with her for saying that it would not signify if it did not go till morning as she knew Higgins had provided for their immediate wants and she herself had left money with Bessie Mrs. Hale called her unfeeling for saying this and never gave herself breathing time till the basket was sent out of the house then she said after all we may have been doing wrong it was only the last time Mr. Thornton was here that he said those were no true friends who helped prolong the struggle by assisting the turnouts and this voucher man was a turnout was he not the question was referred to Mr. Hale by his wife when he came upstairs to listen to Mr. Thornton which had ended in conversation as was their want Margaret did not care if their gifts had prolonged the strike she did not think far enough for that in her present excited state Mr. Hale listened and tried to be as calm as a judge he recalled all that it seemed so clear not half an hour before as it came out of Mr. Thornton's lips and then he made an unsatisfactory compromise his wife and daughter had not only had an absence but he did not see for a moment how they could have done otherwise nevertheless as a general rule it was very true what Mr. Thornton said that as the strike if prolonged must end in the masters bringing hands from a distance if indeed the final result were not as it had often been before the invention of some machine which would diminish the need of hands at all why it was clear enough that the kindest thing was to refuse all help which might bolster them up in their folly but as to this Boucher he would go and see him the first thing in the morning and try and find out what could be done for him Mr. Hale went the next morning as he proposed he did not find Boucher at home but he had a long talk with his wife promised to ask for an infirmary order for her and seeing the plenty provided by Mrs. Hale and somewhat lavishly used by the children who were masters downstairs in their father's absence he came back with a more consoling and cheerful account for her to hope for indeed what she had said the night before had prepared her father for so much worse a state of things that by a reaction of his imagination he described all as better than it really was but I will go again and see the man himself said Mr. Hale I hardly know as yet how to compare one of these houses with our Halston Cottages I see furniture here which our laborers would never have thought of buying and food commonly used which they would consider luxuries for many families there seems no other resource now that their weekly wages are stopped but the pawn shop one had need to learn a different language and measure by a different standard up here in Milton Bessie too was rather better this day still she was so weak that she seemed to have entirely forgotten her wish to see Margaret dressed if indeed that had not been the feverish desire of a half delirious state Margaret could not help comparing this strange dressing of hers she did not care to be her heart heavy with various anxieties with the old merry girlish toilettes that she and Edith had performed scarcely more than a year ago her only pleasure now in decking herself out was in thinking that her mother would take delight in seeing her dressed she blushed when Dixon throwing the drawing room door open made an appeal for admiration Miss Hale looks well ma'am doesn't she? Mrs. Shaw's coral couldn't have come in better light touch of color ma'am otherwise Miss Margaret you would have been too pale Margaret's black hair was too thick to be plated it needed rather to be twisted round and round and have its fine silkiness compressed into massive coils that encircled her head like a crown and then were gathered into a large spiral knot behind she kept its weight together by two large coral pins like small arrows for length her white silk sleeves were looped up with the same material and on her neck just below the space of her curved and milk white throat there lay heavy coral beads oh Margaret how I should like to be going with you to one of the old Barrington assemblies taking you as Lady Bairsford used to take me Margaret kissed her mother for this little burst of maternal vanity but she could hardly smile at it she felt so much out of spirits I would rather stay at home with you much rather ma'am nonsense darling I'm sure you notice the dinner well I shall like to hear how they manage these things in Milton particularly the second course dear look what they have instead of game Mrs. Hale would have been more interested she would have been astonished if she had seen the sumptuousness of the dinner table and its appointments Margaret with her London cultivated taste felt the number of delicacies to be oppressive one half of the quantity would have been enough and the effect lighter and more elegant one of Mrs. Thornton's rigorous laws of hospitality that of each separate dainty enough should be provided for all the guests to partake if they felt inclined careless to obsdemiousness in her daily habits it was part of her pride to set a feast before such of her guests as cared for it her son shared this feeling he had never known though he might have imagined and had the capability to relish any kind of society but that which depended on an exchange of superb meals and even now though he was denying himself the personal expenditure of an unnecessary six pence and had more than once regretted that the invitations for this dinner had been sent out still as it was to be he was glad to see the old magnificence of preparation Margaret and her father were the first to arrive Mr. Hale was anxiously punctual to the time specified there was no one upstairs in the drawing room but Mrs. Thornton and Fanny every cover was taken off and the apartment blazed forth in yellow silk damask and a brilliantly flowered carpet every corner seemed filled up with ornament until it became a weariness to the eye and presented a strange contrast to the bald ugliness of the lookout into the great mill yard where wide folding gates were thrown open for the admission of carriages the mill loomed high on the left hand side of the windows casting a shadow down from its many stories which darkened the summer evening before its time my son was engaged up to the last moment on business he will be here 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 neighborhood to the mill rather unpleasant at times she drew herself up never I have not become so fine as to desire to forget the source of my son's wealth and power besides there is not such another factory in Milton one room alone as 220 square yards I meant that the smoke and the noise the constant going out and coming in of the work people might be annoying I agree with you Mr. Hale said Fanny there is a continual smell of steam and oily machinery and the noise is perfectly deafening I have heard noise that was called music far more deafening the engine room is at the street end of the factory we hardly hear it except in summer weather when all the windows are open with the continual murmur of the work people it disturbs me no more than the humming of a hive of bees if I think of it at all I connect it with my son and feel how all belongs to him and that his is the head that directs it just now there are no sounds to come from the mill the hands have been ungrateful enough to turn out as perhaps you have heard but the very business of which I spoke when you entered had referenced to the steps he is going to take to make them learn their place the expression on her face always stern deep into dark anger as she said this nor did it clear away with Mr. Thornton entered the room for she saw in an instant the weight of care and anxiety which he could not shake off although his guests received from him a greeting that appeared both cheerful and cordial he shook hands with Margaret he knew it was the first time their hands had met though she was perfectly unconscious of the fact he inquired after Mrs. Hale and heard Mr. Hale's sanguine hopeful account and glancing at Margaret to understand how far she agreed with her father he saw that no dissenting shadow crossed her face and as he looked with this intention he was struck anew with her great beauty he had never seen her in such dress before and yet now it appeared as if such elegance of attire was so befitting her noble figure in lofty serenity of countenance that she ought to go always thus apparelled she was talking to Fanny about what he could not hear but he saw his sister's way of continually arranging some part of her gown her wandering eyes now glancing here now there but without any purpose in her observation and he contrasted them uneasily with the large soft eyes that looked forth steadily at one object as if from out their light being some gentle influence of repose the curving lines of the red lips just parted in the interest of listening to what her companion said the head a little bent 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 tip of the shoulder the round white arms and tapered hands laid lightly across each other but perfectly motionless in their pretty attitude Mr. Thornton sighed as he took in all this with one of his sudden comprehensive glances and then he turned his back to the young ladies and threw himself with an effort but with all his heart and soul into a conversation with Mr. Hale more people came more and more Fanny left Margaret's side and helped her mother to receive her guests Mr. Thornton felt that in this influx no one was speaking to Margaret and was restless under this apparent neglect but he never went near her himself he did not look at her only he knew what she was doing or not doing better than he knew the movements of anyone else in the room Margaret was so unconscious of herself and so much amused by watching other people that she never thought whether she was left unnoticed or not somebody took her down to dinner she did not catch the name nor did he seem much inclined to talk to her there was a very animated conversation going on among the gentlemen the ladies for the most part were silent employing themselves and taking notes of the dinner and criticizing each other's dresses Margaret caught the clue to the general conversation grew interested and listened attentively Mr. Horseful the stranger whose visit to the town was the original germ of the party was asking questions relative to the trade and manufactures of the place and the rest of the gentlemen, all Milton men were giving him answers and explanations some dispute arose which was warmly contested it was referred to Mr. Thornton who had hardly spoken before but who now gave an opinion the grounds of which were so clearly stated that even the opponents yielded Margaret's attention was thus called to her host his whole manner as master of the house and the entertainer of his friends was so straightforward yet simple and modest as to be thoroughly dignified Margaret thought she had never seen him to so much advantage when he had come to their house there had been always something either of over eagerness or of that kind of vexed annoyance which seemed ready to presuppose that he was unjustly judged and yet felt too proud to try and make himself better understood now among his fellows there was no uncertainty as to his position he was regarded by them as a man of great force of character of power in many ways there was no need to struggle for their respect he had it and he knew it and the security of this gave a fine grand quietness to his voice and ways which Margaret had missed before he was not in the habit of talking to ladies and what he did say was a little formal to Margaret herself he hardly spoke at all surprised to think how much she enjoyed this dinner she knew enough now to understand many local interests nay even some of the technical words employed by the eager mill owners she silently took a very decided part in the question they were discussing at any rate they talked in desperate earnest not in the used up style that wearied her so in the old London parties she wondered that with all this dwelling on the manufacturers and trade of the place no illusion was made to the strike then pending she did not yet know how coolly such things were taken by the masters as having only one possible in to be sure the men were cutting their own throats as they had done many a time before but if they would be fools and put themselves into the hands of a rascally set of paid delegates they must take the consequence one or two thought Thornton looked out of spirits and of course he must lose by this turnout but it was an accident that might happen to themselves any day and Thornton was as good to manage a strike as anyone for he was as iron a chap as any in Milton the hands had mistaken their man in trying that dodge on him and they chuckled inwardly at the idea of the workman's discomforture and defeat in their attempt to alter one iota of what Thornton had decreed it was rather dull for Margaret after dinner she was glad when the gentlemen came not merely because she caught her father's eye to brighten her sleepiness up but because she could listen to something larger and grander than the petty interests which the ladies had been talking about she liked the exaltation and the sense of power which these Milton men had it might be rather rampant in its display and savor of boasting but still they seemed to defy the old limits of possibility and a kind of fine intoxication caused by the recollection of what had been achieved and what yet should be if in her cooler moments she might not approve of their spirit in all things much to admire in their forgetfulness of themselves in the present and their anticipated triumphs over all inanimate matter at some future time which none of them should live to see she was rather startled when Mr. Thornton spoke to her close to her elbow I could see you were on our side in our discussion at the dinner where you're not Miss Hale certainly but then I know so little about it I was surprised however to find from what Mr. Horsefull said that there were others who thought it diametrically opposite a manner as the Mr. Morrison he spoke about he cannot be a gentleman is he I'm not quite the person to decide on another's gentleness Miss Hale I mean I don't quite understand your application of the word but I should say that this Morrison is no true man I don't know who he is I merely judge him for Mr. Horsefull's account I suspect my gentleman includes your true man and a great deal more you would imply I differ from you a man is to me a higher and a completeer being than a gentleman what do you mean asked Margaret we must understand the words differently I take it that gentleman is a term that only describes a person in his relation to others but when we speak of him as a man we consider him not merely with regard to his fellow men but in relation to himself to life to time to eternity a castaway lonely as Robinson Crusoe a prisoner a mirrored in a dungeon for life nay even a saint in Patmos has his endurance, his strength, his faith best described by being spoken of as a man I am rather weary of this word gentlemanly which seems to me to be often inappropriately used and often too with such exaggerated distortion of meaning while the full simplicity of the noun man and the adjective manly are unacknowledged that I am induced to class it with the cant of the day Margaret thought a moment but before she could speak her slow conviction he was called away by some of the eager manufacturers whose speeches she could not hear though she could guess at their import by the short clear answers Mr. Thornton gave which came steady and firm as the boom of a distant minute gun they were evidently talking of the turnout and suggesting what course had best be pursued she heard Mr. Thornton say that has been done then came a hurried murmur in which two or three joined all those arrangements have been made some doubts were implied some difficulties named by Mr. Sixon who took hold of Mr. Thornton's arm the better to impress his words Mr. Thornton moved slightly away lifted his eyebrows a very little and then replied I take the risk you need not join in it unless you choose still some more fears were urged I am not afraid of anything so dastardly as incendiarism we are open enemies and I can protect myself from any violence that I apprehend and I will assuredly protect all others who come to me for work they know my determination by this time as well and as fully as you do Mr. Horseful took him a little on one side as Margaret conjectured to ask him some other question about the strike but in truth it was to inquire who she herself was so quiet so stately and so beautiful a Milton lady asked he as the name was given no from the south of England Hampshire I believe was the cold and different answer Mrs. Sixon was catacysing Fanny on the same subject who is that fine distinguished looking girl a sister of Mr. Horseful's oh dear no that is Mr. Hale her father talking now to Mr. Stevens he gives lessons that is to say he reads with young men my brother John goes to him twice a week and he begs mama to ask them here in hopes of getting him known I believe we have some of their prospectuses if you would like to have one Mr. Thornton does he really find time to read with a tutor in the midst of all his business and this abominable strike in hand as well Fanny was not sure for Mr. Sixon's manner whether she ought to be proud or ashamed of her brother's conduct and like all people who try and take other people's ought for the rule of their feelings of action her shame was interrupted by the dispersion of the guests End of Chapter 20 Recorded by Leanne Howlett Chapter 21 of North and South This is a LibriVox recording A LibriVox recording is in the public domain For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recorded by Gemma Blot North and South You can see three things From bed to bed all terrible ventures I'd rather think Thornton is not quite easy in his mind about this strike. He seemed very anxious to-night. I should wonder if he were not. But he spoke with his usual coolness to the others, when they suggested different things just before we came away. So he did after dinner as well. He would take a good deal to stir him from his cool manner of speaking, but his face strikes me as anxious. I should be if I were he. He must know the growing anger and hardly smothered hatred of his work-people, who all look upon him as what the Bible calls a hard man. Not so much unjust as unfeeling. Clear in judgment, standing upon his rights, is no human being ought to stand, considering what we and all our petty rights are in the side of the Almighty. I am glad you think he looks anxious. When I remember about his half-mout words and ways, I cannot better think how coolly Mr. Thornton spoke. In the first place I am not so convinced as you are about that man vouchers utter distress. For the moment he was badly off, I don't doubt. But there is always a mysterious supply of money from these unions, and from what you said it was evident the man was of a passionate, demonstrative nature, and gave strong expression to all he felt. Oh, Barbara, well I only want to do justice to Mr. Thornton, who is, I suspect, of an exactly opposite nature, a man who is far too proud to show his feelings. Just the character I should have thought beforehand you would have admired, Margaret, so I do. So I should. But I don't feel quite so sure as you do of the existence of those feelings. He is a man of great strength of character, of unusual intellect, considering the few advantages he has had. Not so few. He has led a practical life from a very early age, as when called upon to exercise judgment and self-control, all that develops one part of the intellect. To be sure, he needs some of the knowledge of the past which gives the truest basis for conjecture as to the future. But he knows this need, he perceives it, and that is something. You are quite prejudiced against Mr. Thornton, Margaret. He is the first specimen of a manufacturer, of a person engaged in trade, that I had ever the opportunity of studying, Barbara. He is my first olive. Let me make a face while I swallow it. I know he is good of his kind, and by and by I shall like the kind. I rather think I am already beginning to do so. I was very interested by what the gentlemen were talking about, although I did not understand half of it. I was quite sorry when Ms. Thornton came to take me to the other end of the room, saying she was sure I should be uncomfortable with being the only lady among so many gentlemen. I had never thought about it. I was so busy listening, and the ladies were so dull, Papa, oh so dull, yet I think it was clever too. It reminded me of our old game of having each so many nouns to introduce into a sentence. What do you mean, child, asked Mr. Hale? Why, they took nouns that were signs of things which gave evidence of wealth, housekeepers, under-godness, extent of class, valuables, diamonds, and all such things, and each one formed her speech so as to bring them all in, in the prettiest, accidental manner possible. You will be as proud of your one servant when you get her, if all is true about her that Mrs. Thornton says. To be sure, I shall. I felt like a great hypocrite to not. Sitting there in my wad silk gown with my idle hands before me, when I remember all the good, thorough housework they had done today, they took me for a fine lady, I'm sure.  But smiles were changed to wide and trembling looks when they saw a Dixon's face as she opened the door. Oh, master, oh, Miss Margaret, thank God you all come. Dr. Dunesland is here. The servant next door went for him, for the jar of women has gone home. She's better now. But, Osa, I thought you'd have died an hour ago. Mr. Hale caught Margaret's arm to steady himself from falling. He looked at her face and saw an expression upon it, of surprise and extremist sorrow, but not the agony of terror that contracted his own unprepared heart. She knew more than he did, and yet she listened with that hopeless expression of odd apprehension. Oh, I should not have left her with a daughter that I am, mawn forth Margaret, as she supported her trembling father's hasty steps upstairs. Dr. Dunesland met them on the landing. She is better now, he whispered. The opiate has taken effect. The spasms were very bad. No wonder they frightened her maid. But she'll rally this time. This time, let me go to her. Half an hour ago, Mr. Hale was a middle-aged man. Now his thought was dim, his senses wavering, his walk doddering as if he were seventy years of age. Dr. Dunesland took his arm and led him into the bedroom. Margaret followed close.  She might be better now. She was sleeping. But death had signed up for his own, and it was clear that ere long he would return to dead possession. Mr. Hale looked at her for some time, without a word, that he began to shake all over. And turning away from Dr. Dunesland's anxious care, he groped to find the door. He could not see it. All those several candles brought in a sudden affright were burning and flaring there. He staggered into the drawing room and felt about for a chair. Dr. Dunesland wheeled one to him and placed him in it. He felt his pulse. Speak to him, Ms. Hale. We must rouse him. Papa said Margaret with a crying voice that was wild with pain. Papa speak to me. The speculation came again into his eyes, and he made a great effort. Margaret, did you know of this? Oh, it was cruel of you. Nosa, it was not cruel, replied Dr. Dunesland with quick decision. Ms. Hale acted under my directions. There may have been a mistake. But it was not cruel. Your wife will be a different creature tomorrow, I trust. She has had spasms, as I anticipated, though I did not tell Ms. Hale of my apprehensions. She has taken the opiate I brought with me. She will have a good, long sleep. And tomorrow, that look which has alarmed you so much will have passed away. But not the disease. Dr. Dunesland glanced at Margaret. A bent head, a face raised with no appeal for a temporary reprieve, showed that quick observer of human nature, that she thought it better that the whole truth should be told. Not the disease. We cannot touch the disease with all our poor, vaunted skill. We can only delay its progress. Alleviate the pain it causes. Be a man, sir, a Christian. Have faith in the immortality of the soul, which no pain, no mortal disease, gonna sail or touch. But all the reply, God, was in the choked words. You have never been married, Dr. Dunesland, you do not know what it is. And in the deep manly sobs, which went through the stillness of the night, like heavy pulses of agony, Margaret knelt by him, caressing him with tearful caresses. No one, not even Dr. Dunesland knew how the times went by. Mr. Hale was the first to dare to speak of the necessities of the present moment. What must we do, I say? Tell us both, Margaret is my staff, my right hand. Dr. Dunesland gave his clear, sensible directions. No fear for tonight, nay, even peace for tomorrow, and for many days yet. But no endure in hope of recovery. He advised Mr. Hale to go to bed, and leave only one to watch the slumber, which he hoped would be undisturbed. He promised to come again early in the morning, and with a warm and kindly shake of the hand, he left them. They spoke but few words. They were too much exhausted by their terror to do more than decide upon the immediate course of action. Mr. Hale was resolved to sit up through the night, and all that Margaret could do was to prevail upon him to rest on the drying room sofa. Dixon stoutly and bluntly refused to go to bed. And as for Margaret, it was simply impossible that she should leave her mother, that all the doctors in the world speak of husbanding resources, and one watcher only being required.  Margaret had taken off her gown, and tossed it aside with a sort of impatient disgust, and put on her dressing gown. She felt as if she never could sleep again, as if her whole senses were acutely vital, and all endued with double keenness for the purposes of watching every sight and sound. Nay, even every thought touched some nerve to the very quick. For more than two hours she heard her father's restless movements in the next room. He came perpetually to the door of her mother's chamber, pausing her to listen, till she, not hearing his close unseen presence, went and opened it to tell him how all went on, and replied to the questions his big lips could hardly form. At last he too fell asleep, and all the house was still. Margaret sat beyond the curtain, thinking, far away in time, far away in space, seemed all the interests of past days. Not more than thirty-six hours ago she cared for Bessie Higgins and her father, and her heart was wrong for Belcher.  Everything that had passed out of door seemed to severed from her mother, and therefore unreal. Even all these three appeared more distinct. There she remembered as if it were yesterday, as she had pleased herself with tracing out her mother's features in her on show's face, and how letters had come, making her dwell on the thoughts of home, with all the longing of love. Hellstone itself was in the dim past. The dull gray days of the preceding winter and spring, so uneventless and monotonous, seemed more associated with what she cared for now above all brass. She would feign have caught at the skirts of that departing time, and prayed it to return, and give her back, which she had too little valued while it was yet in her possession. What a vain show life seemed. How unsubstantial and flickering and flitten. It was as if, from some aerial belfry, high up above the stern jar of the earth, there was a bell, continually dolin' all our shadows, all our passin' all this past. And when the morning dawn, cool and gray, like many are happier morning before, when Margaret looked one by one at the sleepers, it seemed as if the terrible night was unreal as a dream. It, too, was a shadow. It, too, was past. Mrs. Al herself was not aware when she awoke how ill she had been the night before. She was rather surprised at Dr. Donaldson's early visit, and perplexed by the anxious faces of husband and child. She consented to remain in bed that day, saying she certainly was died. But the next she insisted on getting up, and Dr. Donaldson gave his consent to her returning into the drawing room. She was restless and uncomfortable in every position, and before night she became very feverish. Mr. Hale was utterly listless and incapable of deciding on anything. What can we do to spare Mama such another night as Margaret on the third day? It is, to a certain degree, the reaction after the powerful opiates I have been obliged to use. It is more painful for you to see that than for her to bear, I believe. But I think if we could get a water bed it might be a good thing. Not but what she will be better tomorrow, pretty much like herself as she was before this attack. Still, I should like her to have a water bed. Mrs. Thornton has one, I know. I'll try and call her this afternoon.  I'm not sure whether I can go. I have a long round to take. It would do you no harm to have a brisk walk to Malboro Street, and ask Mrs. Thornton if she can spare it. Certainly, said Margaret, I could go while Mama is asleep this afternoon. I am sure Mrs. Thornton would lend it to us. Dr. Donaldson's experience told them rightly. Mrs. Hale seemed to shake off the consequences of her attack, and looked brighter and better this afternoon than Margaret had ever hoped to see her again. Her daughter left her after dinner, sitting in her easy chair, with her hand lying in her husband's, who looked more worn and suffering than she by far. Still, he could smile now, rather slowly, rather faintly. It is true, but a day or two before, Margaret never thought to see him smile again. It was about two miles from their house and cramped and crescent to Malboro Street. It was too hot to walk very quickly. An August sun beat straight down into the street at three o'clock in the afternoon. Margaret went along, without noticing anything very different from usual in the first mile and a half of her journey. She was absorbed in her own thoughts, and had learned by this time to thread her way through the irregular stream of human beings that flowed through Milton Street. But by and by she was struck with the unusual heaving among the massive people in the crowded road on which she was entering. They did not appear to be moving on so much as talking and listening and buzzing with excitement, where that went stirring from the spot where they might happen to be. Still, as they made way for her and wrapped up in the purpose of her errand and the necessities that suggested it, she was less quick of observation than she might have been if her mind had been at ease. She had got into Malboro Street before the full conviction forced itself upon her that there was a restless, oppressive sense of irritation abroad among the people. A thunderous atmosphere, marling as well as physically around her. From every narrow lane open and out on Malboro Street came up a low distant roar as if myriads of fierce and dignified forces, the inhabitants of each poor squalid dwelling were gathered round the doors and windows, if indeed they were not actually standing in the middle of the narrow ways, all with looks intent towards one point. Malboro Street itself was the focus of all those human eyes that betrayed intensest interest of various kinds, some fierce with anger, some lowering with relentless threats, some dilated with fear or imploring in treaty. And as Margaret reached the small side entrance by the folding doors in the great dead wall of Malboro Millyard and waited the border's answer to the bell, she looked round and heard the first long far-off roll of the tempest, saw the first low surgeon wave of the dark crowd come with its threatening crest tumble over and retreat at the far end of the street, which a moment ago seemed so full of repressed noise, but which now was ominously still. All these circumstances forced themselves on Margaret's notice, but did not sink down into her preoccupied heart. She did not know what they meant, what was their deep significance, while she did know, did feel, the keen job pressure of the knife that was soon to stab her through and through by leaving her motherless. She was trying to realize that. In order that, when it came, she might be ready to comfort her father. The border opened the door cautiously, not nearly wide enough to admit her. It's you, is it, ma'am? Said he, drawing a long breath and widening the entrance, but still not opening it fully. Margaret went in. He hastily bolted it behind her. The folk are all coming up here, I recognized he. I don't know. Something unusual seemed going on, but this street is quite empty, I think. She went across the yard and up the steps to the house door. There was no near sound, no steam engine at work with beat and pant, no click of machinery or mingling and clashing of many sharp voices, but far away, the ominous gathering roar, deep glamoring. End of chapter twenty-one, recorded by Gemma Blot.