Chapter 5. 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 Leonard's Winch of C-19. North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell. Chapter 5. Decision. I ask thee for a thoughtful love, through constant watching-wise, to meet the glad with joyful smiles and to wipe the weeping eyes and a hearted leisure from itself to soothe and sympathize. Anonymous. Margaret made a good listener to all her mother's little plans for adding some small comforts to the lot of the poorer parishioners. She did not help listening, though each new project was a stab to her heart. By the time the frost had set in, they should be far away from Helston. Old Simon's rheumatism might be bad, and his eyesight worse. There would be no one to go and read to him and comfort him with little porringers of broth and good-red flannel, or if there was, it would be a stranger, and the old man would watch in vain for her. Mary Donville's little crippled boy would crawl in vain to the door and look for her coming through the forest. These poor friends would never understand why she had forsaken them, and there were many others beside. Papa has always spent the income he derived from his living in the parish. I am perhaps encroaching upon the next dues, but the winter is likely to be severe, and our poor people must be helped. Oh, my, my, let us do all we can, said Margaret eerily, not seeing the prudential side of the question, only grasping at the idea that they were rendering such help for the last time. We may not be here long. Do you feel ill, my darling? Asked Mrs. Hale anxiously, misunderstanding Margaret's hint of the uncertainty of their stay at Helston. You look pale and tired. It is this soft-damped, unhealthy air. No, no, mama. It is not that. It is delicious air. It smells of the freshest, purest fragrance after the smokiness of Harley Street. But I am tired. It surely must be near bedtime. Not far off. It is half past nine. You had better go to bed at once, dear. Ask Stixon for some gruel. I will come and see you as soon as you are in bed. I am afraid you have taken cold, or the bad air from some of the stagnant ponds. Oh, mama, said Margaret, faintly smiling as she kissed her mother. I am quite well. Don't alarm yourself about me. I am only tired. Margaret went upstairs. To soothe her mother's anxiety she submitted to a basin of gruel. She was lying languidly in bed when Mrs. Hale came up to make some last inquiries and kiss her before going to her own room for the night. But the instant she heard her mother's door locked she sprang out of bed and throwing her dressing gown on she began to pace up and down the room until the creaking of one of the boards reminded her that she must make no noise. She went and curled herself up in the window seat in the small, deeply recessed window. That morning when she had looked out her heart had danced at seeing the bright clear lights on the church tower which foretold a fine and sunny day. This evening, sixteen hours at most had passed by she sat down too full of sorrow to cry but with a dull, cold pain which seemed to have pressed the youth and buoyancy out of her heart never to return. Mr. Henry Lennox's visit his offer was like a dream, a thing beside her actual life. Hard reality was that her father had so admitted tempting doubts into his mind as to become a schismatic an outcast. All the changes consequent upon this grouped themselves around that one great blighting fact. She looked out upon the dark grey lines of the church tower square and straight in the center of the view cutting against the deep blue transparent depths beyond into which she gazed and felt that she might gaze forever seeing at every moment some farther distance and yet no sign of God. It seemed to her at the moment as if the earth was more utterly desolate than if girt in by an iron dome behind which there might be the ineffable peace and glory of the Almighty those never ending depths of space in their still serenity were more mocking to her than any material bounds could be shedding in the cries of earth's sufferers which now might ascend into that infinite splendor of vastness and be lost, lost forever before they reached his throne. In this mood her father came in unheard. The moonlight was strong enough to let him see his daughter in her unusual place and attitude. He came to her and touched her shoulder before she was aware that he was there. Margaret, I heard you were up. I could not help coming in to ask you to pray with me to say the Lord's prayer. That will do good to both of us. Mr. Hale and Margaret knelt by the window seat. He, looking up, she bowed down in humble shame. God was there close around them hearing her father's whispered words. Her father might be a heretic but had not she in her despairing doubts not five minutes before shown herself a far more utter skeptic she spoke not a word but stole to bed after her father had left her like a child ashamed of its fault. If the world was full of perplexing problems she would trust and only asked to see the one step needful for the hour. Mr. Lennox, his visit, his proposal the remembrance of which had been so rudely pushed aside by the subsequent events of the day haunted her dreams that night. He was climbing up some tree of fabulous height to reach the branch whereon was slung her bonnet. He was falling and she was struggling to save him but held back by some invisible powerful hand. He was dead. And yet with the shifting of the scene she was once more in the Harley Street drawing room talking to him as of old and still with a consciousness all the time that she had seen him killed by that terrible fall. Miserable, unresting night ill preparation for the coming day she awoke with a start unrefreshed and conscious of some reality worse even than her feverish dreams it all came back upon her not merely the sorrow but the terrible discord in the sorrow where to what distance apart had her father wondered led by doubts which were to her temptations of the evil one she longed to ask and yet would not have heard for all the world. The fine Chris morning made her mother feel particularly well and happy at breakfast time she talked on planning village kindnesses unheeding the silence of her husband and the monosyllabic answers of Margaret before the things were cleared away Mr. Hale got up he leaned one hand on the table as if to support himself I shall not be home till evening I am going to Bracey Common and will ask Farmer Dobson to give me something for dinner I shall be back to tea at seven he did not look at either of them but Margaret knew what he meant by seven the announcement must be made to her mother Mr. Hale would have delayed making it till half past six but Margaret was of different stuff she could not bear the impending weight on her mind all the day long better get the worst over the day would be too short to comfort her mother but while she stood by the window thinking how to begin and waiting for the servant to have left the room her mother had gone upstairs to put on her things to go to the school she came down ready equipped in a brisker mood than usual mother come round the garden with me this morning just one turn said Margaret putting her arm around Mrs. Hale's waist they passed through the open window Mrs. Hale spoke said something Margaret could not tell what her eye caught on a bee entering a deep-belled flower when that bee flew forth with his spoils she would begin that should be the sign out he came Mama Papa is going to leave Halston she flirted forth he's going to leave the church and live in Milton Northern there were the three hard facts hardly spoken what makes you say so asked Mrs. Hale in a surprised incredulous voice who has been telling you such nonsense Papa himself said Margaret longing to say something gentle and consoling but literally not knowing how they were close to a garden bench Mrs. Hale sat down and began to cry I don't understand you she said either you have made some great mistake or I don't quite understand you no mother I have made no mistake Papa has written to the bishop saying that he has such doubts that he cannot conscientiously remain a priest of the church of England and that he must give up Halston he has also consulted Mr. Bell Frederick's godfather you know Mama and it is a range that we go to live in Milton Northern Mrs. Hale looked up in Margaret's face all the time she was speaking these words the shadow on her countenance told that she at least believed in the truth of what she said I don't think it can be true said Mrs. Hale at least he would surely have told me before it came to this it came strongly upon Margaret's mind that her mother ought to have been told that whatever her faults of discontent and repining might have been it was an error in her father to have left her to learn his change of opinion and his approaching change of life from her better informed child Margaret sat down by her mother and took her unresisting hand on her breast bending her own soft cheeks down caressingly to touch her face dear darling Mama we were so afraid of giving you pain Papa felt so acutely you know you are not strong and there must have been such terrible suspense to go through when did he tell you Margaret yesterday only yesterday replied Margaret detecting the jealousy which prompted the inquiry poor Papa trying to divert her mother's thoughts into compassionate sympathy for all her father had gone through Mrs. Hale raised her head what does he mean by having doubts she said surely he does not mean that he thinks differently that he knows better than the church Margaret shook her head and the tears came into her eyes as her mother touched the bare nerve of her own regret can't the Bishop set him right asked Mrs. Hale half impatiently I'm afraid not said Margaret but I did not ask I cannot bear to hear what he might answer it is all settled at any rate he is going to leave Halston in a fortnight I am not sure if he did not say he had sent in his deed of resignation in a fortnight exclaimed Mrs. Hale I do think this is very strange not at all right I call it very unfeeling said she beginning to take relief in tears he has doubts you say and gives up his living and all without consulting me I dare say if he had told me his doubts at the first I could have nipped him in the bud mistaken as Margaret felt her father's conduct to have been she could not bear to hear it blamed by her mother she knew that his very reserve had originated in a tenderness for her which might be cowardly but was not unfeeling I almost hoped you might have been glad to leave Halston Mama she said after a pause you have never been well in this air you know you can't think the smoky air of a manufacturing town all chimneys and dirt like Milton Northern would be better than this air which is pure and sweet if it is too soft and relaxing fancy living in the middle of factories and factory people though of course if your father leaves the church we shall not be admitted into society anywhere it would be such a disgrace to us poor dear saint John it is well he is not alive to see what your father has come to every day after dinner when I was a girl living with your aunt Shaw at Beresford Court Sir John used to give for the first toast church and king and down with the rump Margaret was glad that her mother's thoughts were turned away from the fact of her husband's silence to her on the point which must have been so near his heart next to the serious vital anxiety as to the nature of her father's doubts this was the one circumstance of the case that gave Margaret the most pain you know we have very little society here mama the gormons who are our nearest neighbors to call society and we hardly ever see them have been in trade just as much as these Milton Northern people yes said Mrs. Hale almost indignantly but at any rate the gormons made carriages for half the gentry of the county and were brought into some kind of intercourse with them but these factory people who on earth wears cotton that can afford linen well mama I give up the cotton spinners I am not standing up for them any more than for any other tradespeople only we shall have little enough to do with them why on earth is your father fixed on Milton Northern to live in partly said Margaret sighing because it is so very different from Hellstone partly because Mr. Bell says there is an opening there for a private tutor private tutor in Milton why can't he go to Oxford and be a tutor to gentlemen you forget mama he is leaving the church on account of his opinions his doubts would do him no good at Oxford Mrs. Hale was silent for some time quietly crying at last she said and the furniture how in the world are we to manage the removal I never removed in my life and only afford think to think about it Margaret was inexpressibly relieved to find that her mother's anxiety and distress was lowered to this point so insignificant to herself and on which she could do so much to help she planned and promised and let her mother on to arrange fully as much as could be fixed before they knew somewhat more definitively what Mr. Hale intended to do throughout the day Margaret never left her mother bending her whole soul to sympathize in all the various turns her feelings took towards evening especially she became more and more anxious that her father should find a soothing welcome home waiting him after his return from his day of fatigue and distress she drawed upon what he must have borne in secret for long her mother only replied coldly they ought to have told her and that then at any rate he would have had an adviser to give him counsel and Margaret turned faint at heart when she heard her father's steps in the hall she dared not go to meet him and tell him what she had done all day for fear of her mother's jealous annoyance she heard him linger as if awaiting her or some sign of her and she dared not stir she saw by her mother's twitching lips and changing color that she too was aware that her husband had returned presently he opened the room door and stood there uncertain whether to come in his face was gray and pale he had a timid fearful look in his eyes something almost pitiful to see in a man's face but that look of despondent uncertainty of mental and bodily languor touched his wife's heart she went to him and threw herself on his brass crying out oh Richard Richard you should have told me sooner and then in tears Margaret left her as she rushed upstairs to throw herself on her bed and hide her face in the pillows to stifle the hysteric sobs that would force their way at last after the rigid self-control of the whole day how long she lay thus she could not tell she heard no noise though the housemaid came in to arrange the room the affrighted girl stole out again on tiptoe and went and told Mrs. Dixon that Miss Hale was crying as if her heart would break she was sure she would make herself deadly ill if she went on at that rate in consequence of this Margaret felt herself touched and started up into a sitting posture she saw the accustomed room the figure of Dixon in shadow as the latter stood holding the candle a little behind her for fear of the effect on Miss Hale's startled eyes swollen and blinded as they were oh Dixon I did not hear you come into the room said Margaret resuming her trembling self restraint is it very late continued she lifting herself languidly off the bed yet letting her feet touch the ground without fairly standing down as she shaded her wet ruffled hair off her face and tried to look as though nothing were the matter as if she had only been asleep I hardly can tell what time it is replied Dixon in an aggrieved tone of voice since your mama told me this terrible news when I dressed her for tea I've lost all count of time I'm sure I don't know what is to become of all of us when Charlotte told me just now you were sobbing Miss Hale I thought no wonder poor thing and master thinking of turning to center at his time of life when if it is not to be said he's done well in the church he's not done badly after all I had a cousin miss who turned Methodist preacher after he was fifty years of age and a tailor all his life but then he had never been able to make a pair of trousers to fit for as long as he had been in the trade so it was no wonder but for master as I said to missus what would poor sir John have said he never liked your marrying Mr. Hale but if he could have known it would have come to this he would have sworn worse oaths than ever if that was possible Dixon had been so much accustomed to comment upon Mr. Hale's proceedings to her mistress who listened to her or not as she was in the humor that she never noticed Margaret's flashing eye and dilating nostril to hear her father talked of in this way by a servant to her face Dixon she said in the low tone she always used when much excited which had a sound in it as of some distant turmoil or threatening storm breaking far away Dixon you forget to whom you are speaking she stood upright and firm on her feet now confronting the waiting maid and fixing her with her steady discerning eye I am Mr. Hale's daughter go you have made a strange mistake and one that I am sure your own good feeling will make you sorry for when you think about it Dixon hung irresolutely about the room for a minute or two Margaret repeated you may leave me Dixon I wish you to go Dixon did not know whether to resent these decided words or to cry either course would have done with her mistress but as she said to herself Miss Margaret has a touch of the old gentleman about her as well as poor Master Frederick I wonder where they come by it and she who would have resented such words from anyone less haughty and determined in manner was subdued enough to say in a half humble half injured tone maintuff unfasten your gown missin do your hair no not tonight thank you and Margaret gravely lighted her out of the room and bolted the door and henceforth Dixon obeyed and admired Margaret she said it was because she was so like poor Master Frederick but the truth was that Dixon as do many others liked to feel herself ruled by a powerful and decided nature Margaret needed all Dixon's help in action and silence in words for for some time the latter thought it was her duty to show her sense of affront by saying as little as possible to her young lady so the energy came out in doing rather than in speaking a fortnight was a very short time to make arrangements for so serious a removal as Dixon said anyone but a gentleman indeed almost any other gentleman but catching a look at Margaret's straight stern brow just here she caught the remainder of the sentence away and meekly took the whorehound drop that Margaret offered her to stop the little tickling in my chest miss but almost any one but Mr. Hale would have had practical knowledge enough to see that in so short a time it would be difficult to fix on any house in Milton Northern or indeed elsewhere to which they could remove the furniture that had a necessity to be taken out of Halston vicarage Mrs. Hale overpowered by all the troubles and necessities for immediate household decisions that seemed to come upon her at once became really ill and Margaret almost felt it as a relief when her mother fairly took to her bed and left the management of affairs to her Dixon true to her post of bodyguard attended most faithfully to her mistress and only emerged from Mrs. Hale's bedroom to shake her head and murmur to herself in a manner which Margaret did not choose to hear for the one thing clear and straight before her was the necessity of leaving Halston Mr. Hale's successor in the living was appointed and at any rate after her father's decision there must be no lingering now for his sake as well as for every other consideration for he came home every evening more and more depressed after the necessary leave taking which he had resolved to have with every individual parishioner inexperienced as she was in all the necessary matter-of-fact business to be got through did not know to whom to apply for advice the cook and Charlotte worked away with willing arms and stout hearts at all the moving and packing and as far as that went Margaret's admirable sense enabled her to see what was best and to direct how it should be done but where were they to go to in a week they must be gone straight to Milton or where so many arrangements depended on this decision that Margaret resolved to ask her father one evening in spite of his evident fatigue and low spirits he answered my dear I have really had too much to think about to settle this what does your mother say what does she wish poor Mariah he met with an echo even louder than his sigh Dixon had just come into the room for another cup of tea for Mrs. Hale and catching Mr. Hale's last words and protected by his presence from Margaret's upbraiding eyes made bold to say my poor mistress you don't think her worst today said Mr. L turning hastily I'm sure I can't say sir it's not for me to judge the illness seems so much more on the mind than on the body Mr. Hale looked infinitely distressed you had better take my ma her tea while it is hot Dixon said Margaret in a tone of quiet authority oh I beg your pardon miss my thoughts were otherwise occupied and thinking of my poor of Mrs. Hale papa it is this suspense that is bad for you both of course my mama's fill your change of opinions we can't help that she continued softly but now the course is clear at least to a certain point and I think papa that I could get mama to help me in planning if you could tell me what to plan for she has never expressed any wish in any way and only thinks of what can't be helped are we going straight to Milton have you taken a house there no he replied I suppose we let's go into lodgings and look about for a house and pack up the furniture so that it can be left at the railway station till we have met with one I suppose so do what you think best only remember we shall have much less money to spend they had never had much superfluity as Margaret knew she felt that it was a great weight suddenly thrown upon her shoulders all the decisions she needed to make were what dress she would wear for dinner and to help Edith to draw out the list of who should take down whom in the dinner parties at the home nor was the household in which she lived one that called for much decision except in the one grand case of Captain Lennox's offer everything went on with the regularity of clockwork once a year there was a long discussion between her aunt and Edith as to whether they should go to the Isle of Wight abroad or to Scotland but at such times Margaret herself was secure of drifting without any exertion of her own into the quiet harbor of home now since that day when Mr. Lennox came and startled her into a decision every day brought some question momentous to her and to those whom she loved to be settled her father went up after tea to sit with his wife Margaret remained alone in the drawing room suddenly she took a candle and went into her father's study for a great atlas and lugging it back into the drawing room she began to pour over the map of England she was ready to look up brightly when her father came down the stairs I have hit upon such a beautiful plan look here in Darkshire hardly the breath of my finger from Milton is Heston which I have often heard of from people living in the north to such a pleasant little bathing place now don't you think we could get Mama there with Dixon while you and I go and look at the houses and get one all ready for her in Milton she would get a breath of sea air to set her up for the winter and be spared all the fatigue and Dixon would enjoy taking care of her is Dixon to go with us asked Mr. Hale in a kind of hopeless dismay oh yes said Margaret Dixon quite intense it and I don't know what Mama would do without her but we shall have to put up with a very different way of living I am afraid everything is so much dearer in a town I doubt Dixon can make herself comfortable to tell you the truth Margaret I sometimes feel if that woman gives herself airs to be sure she does Papa replied Margaret and if she has to put up with a different style of living we shall have to put up with her airs which will be worse but she really loves us all and would be miserable to leave us I am sure especially in this change so for Mama's sake and for the sake of her faithfulness I do think she must go very well my dear go on I am resigned how far is Heston from Milton the breath of one of your fingers does not give me a very clear idea of distance well then I suppose it is 30 miles that is not much not in distance but in never mind if you really think it will do your mother good let it be fixed so this was a great step now Margaret could work and act and plan in good earnest and now Mrs. Hill could rouse herself from her langer and forget her real suffering and thinking of the pleasure and the delight of going to the seaside her only regret was that Mr. Hill could not be with her all the fortnight she was to be there as he had been for a whole fortnight once when they were engaged and she was staying with Sir John and Lady Beresford at Torquay End of Chapter 5 Chapter 6 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 North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell Chapter 6 Farewell And watch the garden bough shall sway The tender blossom flutter down Unloved that beach will gather brown The maple burn itself away Unloved the sunflower shining fair Ray round with flames her disk of seed And many a rose carnation feed With summer spice the humming air Till from the garden and the wild Fresh association blow And year by year the landscape grow Familiar to the stranger's child As year by year the labourer tilts His wanted glib or lops the glades And year by year our memory fades From all the circle of the hills Tennyson The last day came, the house was full of packing cases Which were being carted off the front door To the nearest railway station Even the pretty lawn at the side of the house Was made unsightly and untidy by the straw That had been wafted upon it through the open door And windows The rooms had a strange echoing sound in them And the light came harshly and strongly In through the uncurtained windows Seeming already unfamiliar and strange Mrs. Hale's dressing room was left untouched To the last And there she and Dixon were packing up clothes And interrupting each other every now and then To exclaim at and turn over with fond regard Some forgotten treasure in the shape of some relic Of the children while they were yet little They did not make much progress with their work Downstairs Margaret stood calm and collected Ready to counsel or advise the men Who had been called in to help the cook and Charlotte These two last, crying between wiles Wounded how the young lady could keep up so this last day And settled it between them That she was not likely to care much for Halston Having been so long in London There she stood, very pale and quiet With her large grave eyes observing everything Up to every present circumstance, however small They could not understand how her heart Was aching all the time With a heavy pressure that no size could lift off Or relieve and how constant exertion For her perceptive faculties was the only way To keep herself from crying out with pain Moreover, if she gave way, who was to act? Her father was examining papers, books, registers What not in the vestry with a clerk And when he came in, there were his own books to pack up Which no one but himself could do to his satisfaction Besides, was Margaret one to give way Before strange men or even household friends Like the cook and Charlotte, not she? But at last the four packers went into the kitchen to their tea And Margaret moved stiffly and slowly Away from the place in the hall Where she had been standing so long Out through the bare, echoing, drawing room Into the twilight of an early November evening There was a filmy veil of soft, dull mist Obscuring but not hiding all objects Giving them a lilac hue For the sun had not yet fully set Or Robin was singing Perhaps Margaret thought The very Robin that her father had so often talked of As his winter pet And for which he had made, with his own hands A kind of Robin house by his study window The leaves were more gorgeous than ever The first touch of frost would lay them all low on the ground Already one or two constantly fluttering down Amber and golden in the low, slanting sun rays Margaret went along the walk under the pear tree wall She had never been along it Since she pasted it at Henry Lennox's side Here at this bed of time He began to speak of what she must not think of now Her eyes were on that late, blowing rose As she was trying to answer And she had caught the idea of the vivid beauty Of the feathery leaves of the carrots In the very middle of his last sentence Only a fortnight ago And also changed Where was he now? In London Going through the old round Dining with the old Harley street set Or with gay or young friends of his own Even now, while with everything falling and fading And turning to decay around her He might be gladly putting away his law books After a day of satisfactory toil And freshening himself up As he had told her he often did By run in the temple gardens Taking in the while the grand inarticulate mighty roar Of the hands of thousands of busy men Nigh at hand but not seen And catching ever at his quick turns Glimpses of the lights of the city Coming up out of the depths of the river He had often spoken to Margaret Of these hasty walks Snatched in the intervals between study and dinner At his best times and in his best moods He had spoken of them And the thought of them had struck upon her fancy Here there was no sound The government had gone away into the vast stillness of night Now and then a cottage door in the distance Was opened and shut As if to admit the tired labourer to his home But that sounded very far away A stealthy, creeping, crunching sound Among the crisp fallen leaves of the forest Beyond the garden Seemed almost close at hand Margaret knew it was some poacher Sitting up in her bedroom this past autumn With the light of her candle extinguished And purely reveling in the solemn beauty Of the heavens and the earth She had many a time seen the light Noise asleep of the poachers Over the garden fence Their quick tramp across the dewy moonlit lawn The disappearance in the black still shadow Beyond The wild adventurous freedom of their life Had taken her fancy She felt inclined to wish them success She had no fear of them But tonight she was afraid She knew not why She heard Charlotte shutting the windows And fastening up for the night Unconscious that anyone had gone out into the garden A small branch It might be of rotten wood Or it might be broken by force Came heavily down in the nearest part of the forest Margaret ran, swift as Camilla Down to the window And wrapped it with a hurried tremulousness Which startled Charlotte within Let me in, let me in It's only me Charlotte Until she was safe in the drawing room With the windows fastened and bolted And the familiar walls hemming her round And shutting her in She had safe down upon a packing case Cheelous, chill was the dreary and dismantled room No fire nor other light But Charlotte's long, unsnuffed candle Charlotte looked at Margaret with surprise And Margaret, feeling it rather than seeing it, rose up I was afraid you were shutting me out altogether, Charlotte Said she half smiling And then you would never have heard me in the kitchen And the doors into the lane and the chair-chart Are locked long ago Oh miss, I should have been sure to have missed you soon The men would have wanted you to tell them how to go on And I've put tea in Master's study As being the most comfortable room so to speak Thank you Charlotte, you're a kind girl I shall be sorry to leave you You must try and write to me If I can ever give you any little help or good advice I shall always be glad to get a letter from Halston, you know I shall be sure and send you my address when I know it The study was all ready for tea There was a good blazing fire and unlighted candles on the table Margaret sat down on the rug Partly to warm herself for the dampness of the evening Hung about her dress and over fatigue had made her chilly She kept herself balanced by clasping her hands Together round her knees Her head dropped a little towards her chest The attitude was one of despondency Whatever her frame of mind might be But when she heard her father step on the gravel outside She started up and hastily shaking her heavy black hair back And wiping a few tears away that had come on her cheeks She knew not how, she went out to open the door for him He showed far more depression than she did She could hardly get him to talk Although she tried to speak on subjects that would interest him At the cost of an effort every time which she thought would be her last Have you been a very long walk today? Asked she on seeing his refusal to touch food of any kind As far as fort and beaches, I went to see Widow Maltby She sadly grieved at not having wished you good-bye She says little Susan has kept watch down the lane for days past Nay Margaret, what is the matter dear? The thought of the little child watching for her And continually disappointed From no forgetfulness on her part But from sheer inability to leave home Was the last drop in poor Margaret's cup And she was sobbing away as if her heart would break Mr. Hale was distressingly perplexed He rose and walked nervously up and down the room Margaret tried to check herself But would not speak until she could do so with firmness She heard him talking as if to himself I cannot bear it I cannot bear to see the sufferings of others I think I could go through my own with patience Oh, is there no going back? No father, said Margaret, looking straight at him And speaking low and steadily It is bad to believe you an error It would be infinitely worse to have known you a hypocrite She dropped her voice at the last few words As if entertaining the idea of hypocrisy for a moment In connection with her father, savoured of irreverence Besides, she went on It is only that I am tired tonight Don't think that I am suffering from what you have done, dear papa We can't either of us talk about it tonight I believe, said she, finding that tears and sobs Would come in spite of herself I had better go and take Mama up this cup of tea She had hers very early And when I was too busy to go to her And I'm sure she will be glad of another now Railroad time inexorably wrenched them away From lovely, beloved Halston the next morning They were gone They had seen the last of the long, low, parsonage home Half-covered with china roses and pyrocanthus More home-like than ever in the morning sun That glittered on its windows Each belonging to some well-loved room Almost before they had settled themselves into the car Sent from Southampton to fetch them to the station They were gone away to return no more A sting at Margaret's heart made her strive to look out To catch the last glimpse of the old church tower At the turn where she knew it might be seen Above a wave of the forest trees But her father remembered this too And she silently acknowledged she's greater right To the one window from which it could be seen She lent back and shut her eyes And the tears welled forth And hung glittering for an instant On the shadowing eyelashes Before rolling slowly down her cheeks And heated on her dress They were to stop in London all night At some quiet hotel Poor Mrs. Hale had cried in her way Nearly all day long And Dixon showed her sorrow by extreme crossness And a continual irritable attempt To keep her petticoats from even touching The unconscious Mr. Hale In she regarded as the origin of all this suffering They went through the well-known streets Past houses which they had often visited Past shops in which she had lounged Impatient by her aunt's side While that lady was making some important And interminable decision Nay, absolutely past acquaintances in the streets For though the morning had been Of an incalculable length to them And they felt as if it ought long ago To have closed in for the repose of darkness It was the very busiest time Of a London afternoon in November When they arrived there It was long since Mrs. Hale had been in London And she roused up almost like a child Look about her at the different streets And to gaze after an exclaim At the shops and carriages Oh, there's Harrison's Where I bought so many of my wedding things Dear, how altered They've got immense plate-glass windows Larger than Crawford's in Southampton Oh, and there, I declare, no It is not, yes it is Margaret, we've just passed Mr. Henry Lennox Where can he be going amongst all these shops? Margaret started forwards And as quickly fell back Half smiling at herself for the sudden motion They were a hundred yards away by this time But he seemed like a relic of Hellston He was associated with a bright morning An eventful day And she would have liked to have seen him Without his seeing her Without the chance of their speaking The evening without employment Passed in a room high up in a hotel Was long and heavy Mr. Hale went out to his booksellers And to call on a friend or two Everyone they saw, either in the house Or out in the streets Appeared hurrying to some appointment Expected by or expecting somebody They alone seemed strange And friendless and desolate Yet within a mile, Margaret knew Of house after house where she For her own sake and her mother For her aunt's shores would be welcomed If they came in gladness or even In peace of mind If they came sorrowing and wanting sympathy In a complicated trouble like the present Then they would be felt as a shadow In all these houses of intimate acquaintances Not friends London life is too whirling and full To admit even an hour of that deep silence of feeling Which the friends of Job showed When they sat with him on the ground Seven days and seven nights And none spake a word unto him For they saw that his grief was very great End of chapter 6 The next afternoon, about 20 miles from Military Northern, they entered on The little branch railway that led to Heston Heston itself was one long, straggling Street running parallel to the seashore It had a character of its own It's different from the little bathing places In the south of England as they again From those of the continent To use a scotch word, everything looked More purpose-like The country cards had more iron and less Wooden leather about the horse gear The people in the streets, although The colors looked grayer, more endearing Not so gay and pretty There were no smockfrocks even among the country folk They retarded motion and were apt to catch a machinery And so the habit of wearing them had died out In such towns in the south of England Margaret had seen the shopmen were not employed In their business, lounging a little at their doors And drawing the fresh air and the look up And down the street Here, if they had any leisure from customers They made themselves business in the shop Even Margaret fancied to the unnecessary Unrolling and re-rolling of ribbons All these differences struck upon her mind As she and her mother went out next morning To look for lodgings Their two nights at hotels had cost more Than Mr. Hale had anticipated And they were glad to take the first clean, cheerful rooms They met with that were at liberty to receive them There, for the first time for many days Did Margaret feel at rest There was a dreaminess in the rest, too Which made it still more perfect and luxurious To repose in The distant sea, lapping the sandy shore With measured sound The unusual scenes moving before her like pictures Which she cared not in her laziness To have fully explained before they passed away The stroll down to the beach to breathe the sea air Soft and warm on that sandy shore Even to the end of November The great long misty sea-line touching The tender-colored sky The white sail of a distant boat turning silver In some pale sunbeam It seemed as if she could dream her life away In such luxury of pensiveness In which she made her present all in all From not daring to think of the past But the future must be met, however Stern and iron it be One evening it was arranged that Margaret and her father Should go the next day to Milton, Northern And look out for a house Mr. Hale had received several letters from Mr. Bell And one or two from Mr. Thornton And he was anxious to ascertain it once a good many particulars Respecting his position and chances of success there Which he could only do by an interview With a letter gentleman Margaret knew that they ought to be removing But she had a repuniance to the idea of a manufacturing town And believed that her mother was receiving benefit Of the Heston air, so she would willingly have deferred The expedition to Milton For several miles before they reached Milton They saw a deep, lead-colored cloud Hanging over the horizon in the direction in which it lay It was all the darker from contrast Of the pale grey-blue of the wintry sky For in Heston there had been the earliest signs of frost Nearer to the town The air had a faint taste and smell of smoke Perhaps after all Or a loss of the fragrance of grass and herb It had been any positive taste or smell Quick they were world of a long straight Hopeless streets of regularly built houses All small and a brick Here and there a great oblong many-winded factory Stood up like a hen among her chickens Puffing out black unparliamentary smoke And sufficiently accounting for the cloud Which Margaret had taken to Fortell Rain As they drove through the larger and wider streets From the station to the hotel They had to stop constantly Great loaded lurries Blocked at the not over-wide thoroughfares Margaret had now and then been into the city In her drive to their aunt But there the heavy lumbering vehicles Seem various in their purposes and intent Here every van, every wagon and truck Bore cotton, either in the raw shape In bags, or the woven shape In bales of Calico People thronged to the footpath It's most of them well-dressed as regard to the material But with a slovenly looseness Where it struck Margaret as different From the shabby threadbare smartness Of a similar class in London New Street, said Mr. Hale This, I believe, is the principal street Often spoken to me about it It was the opening of this street From a lane into a great thoroughfare Thirty years ago, which has caused his property To rise so much in value Mr. Thornton's a mill must be somewhere Not very far off, for he is Mr. Bell's tenant But I fancy he dates from his warehouse Where is our hotel, Papa? Close to the end of this street, I believe Shall we have lunch before, after we have looked At the houses we marked in the Milton times Oh, let us get our work done first Very well, then I will only see If there is any note or letter from me from Mr. Thornton Who said he would let me know anything he might Hear about these houses, and then we will set off We will keep the cab It will be safer than losing ourselves And being too late for the train this afternoon There were no letters awaiting him They set out on their house hunting Thirty pounds a year was all they could afford To give, but in Hampshire they could have met With a roomy house and pleasant garden for the money Here even the necessary accommodation Of two sitting-rooms and four bedrooms Seen unattainable They were the best, rejecting each as they visited it Then they looked at each other in dismay We must go back to the second, I think That one in Cranston, don't they call this ever? There were three sitting-rooms Don't you remember how we laughed at the number Compared with the three bedrooms? But I had planned it all The first room downstairs is to be your study In our dining-room, pork-pop Or, you know, we settled Mama is to have As cheerful a sitting-room as we can get And that front room upstairs with that Trocious pink and blue paper in heavy corners And really a pretty view over the plane With a great bend of river or canal Or whatever it is down below Then I could have a little bedroom behind In that projection at the head of the first flight of stairs Over the kitchen, you know And you and Mama the room behind the drawing-room And that closet in the roof will make you a splendid dressing-room But Dixon and the girl we are to have to help Oh, wait a minute I am overpowered by the discovery Of my own genius for management Dixon is to have, let me see ahead at once Oh, the back sitting-room Like that, she grumbles so much about the stairs at Heston And the girls to have that sloping attic Over your room and Mama's What'd that do? I dare say it will But the papers What? And the overloading such a house With color and such heavy cornices Never mind, Papa Surely you can charm the landlord Into repapering one or two of the rooms The drawing-room and your bedroom For Mama will come most in contact with them And your bookshelves will hide a great deal Of that gaudy pattern in the dining-room Then you think of the best If so, I had better go at once And call on this Mr. Donkin to whom that advertisement Referrs me I will take you back to the hotel where you can order lunch And rest, and by the time it is ready I shall be with you I hope I shall be able to get new papers Margaret hopes so too, though she said nothing She had never come fairly in contact With the taste that loves ornament, however bad More than the plainness and simplicity Which are of themselves the framework Of elegance Her father took her through the entrance of the hotel And leaving her at the foot of the staircase Went to the address of the landlord of the house They had fixed upon. Just as Margaret had her hand On the door of this sitting-room She was followed by a quick-stepping waiter I beg your pardon, ma'am The gentleman was gone so quickly, I had no time to tell him Mr. Donkin called almost directly after you left And as I understood from what the gentleman said You would be back in an hour, I told him so And he came again about five minutes ago And said he would wait for Mr. Hale Thank you, my father will return soon And then you can tell him Margaret opened the door and went in with A straight, fearless, dignified presence habitual to her She felt no awkwardness She had too much of the habits of society for that Here was a person come on business to her father And as he was one who had shown his above-liging She was disposed to treat him with A full measure of civility Mr. Donkin was a good deal more surprised And discomfited than she Instead of a quiet, middle-aged clergyman A young lady came forward with frank dignity A young lady of a different type To most of those he was in the habit of seeing Her dress was very plain A closed straw bonnet to the best material In shape trimmed with white ribbon A dark silk gown without any trimming or flounce A large Indian shawl which hung about her in heavy folds In which she wore as an empress where as her drapery He did not understand who she was As he caught the simple, straight, unabashed look Which showed him that his being there Was of no concern to the beautiful countenance And caught up no flesh of surprise To the pale ivory of the complexion He had heard that Mr. Hale had a daughter But he had imagined that she was a little girl Mr. Thornton, I believe Said Margaret after a half-instance pause During which his unready words would not come But you sit down My father brought me to the door not a minute ago But, unfortunately, he was not told that she were here And he's gone away on some business But he will come back almost directly I'm sorry, you've had the trouble of calling twice Mr. Thornton was in habits of authority himself But she seemed to assume That she was a little girl But she seemed to assume Some kind of rule over him at once He had been getting impatient At the loss of his time on a market day The moment before she appeared Yet, now, he calmly took a seat at her bidding But do you know where it is that Mr. Hale has gone to? Perhaps I might be able to find him He's gone to Mr. Duncan's at Canute Street He is the landlord of the house My father wishes to take him crowned in Mr. Thornton knew the house He had seen the advertisement and been to look at it In compliance with the request of Mr. Bells To assist Mr. Hale to the best of his power And also instigated by his own interest In the case of a clergyman who had given up his living Under circumstances such as those of Mr. Hale Mr. Thornton had thought that the house In Crampton was really just the thing But, now that he saw Margaret With her superb ways of moving and looking He began to feel ashamed of having imagined That it would do very well for the hails In spite of a certain vulgarity in it Which had struck him at the time of his looking it over Margaret could not help her looks But the short curled upper lip The massive upturned chin The manner of carrying her head, her movements Full of a soft feminine defiance Always gives strangers the impression of haughtiness She was tired now And would rather have remained silent Taking the rest her father had planned for her But, of course, she owed it to herself To be a gentle woman and to speak courteously From time to time to the stranger not Overbrushed, nor overpolished Must be confessed after his rough encounter With Milton's streets and crowds She wished that he would go Scoring with curt sentences all the remarks she made She had taken off her shawl And hung it over the back of her chair She sat facing him and facing the light Her full beauty met his eye Her round white plexile throat rising Out of the full yet lithe figure Her lips moving so slightly as she spoke Not breaking the cold, serene look of her face With any variation from the one lovely, haughty curve Her eyes with their soft gloom Meeting his with quiet, maiden freedom He almost said to himself That he did not like her for their conversation ended He tried so to compensate himself for the mortified feeling that While he looked upon her with an admiration He could not repress She looked at him with proud indifference Taking him if he thought for what in his irritation He told himself he was A great, rough fellow with not a grace or refinement about him Her quiet coldness of demeanor He interpreted into contemptuousness And resented it in his heart To the pitch of almost inclining him To get up and go away and have nothing more to do With these hails and their superciliousness Just as Margaret had exhausted her last subject Of conversation and yet Conversation that could hardly be called Which consisted of so few in such short speeches Her father came in and with his pleasant Gentlemanly courteousness about apology Reinstated his name and family In Mr. Thornton's good opinion Mr. Hale and his visitor had a good deal to say Respecting their mutual friend Mr. Bell And Margaret, glad that her part Of entertaining the visitor was over Went to the window to try and make herself more familiar With the strange aspect on the street She got so much absorbed in watching what was going on Outside that she hardly heard her father When he spoke to her and he had to repeat What he said, Margaret The landlord willed for system admiring That hideous paper and I am afraid We must let it remain Oh dear, I am sorry She replied and began to turn over in her mind The possibility of hiding part of it at least By some of her sketches but gave up the idea At last as likely only to make bad worse Her father meanwhile With his kindly country hospitality Was pressing Mr. Thornton to stay to lunch It would have been very inconvenient to him to do so Yet he felt that he should have yielded If Margaret, by word or look Had seconded her father's invitation He was glad she did not And yet he was irritated at her for not doing it She gave him a low grave bow When he left and he felt more awkward And self-conscious in every limb Than he had ever done in all his life before Well, Margaret, now to lunch in as fast As we can, have you ordered it? No, but while that man was here when I came home I've never had the opportunity Then we must take anything we can get Must have been waiting a long time, I'm afraid It seemed exceedingly long to me I was just at the last gasp when you came in You never went on with any subject But just gave little short abrupt answers Very much to the point, though, I should think So he's a clear-headed fellow He said, did you hear that cramping is on gravely soil And by far the most healthy suburb In the neighborhood of Milton When they returned to Heston There was the day's account to be given to Mrs. Hale Who was full of questions which they answered In the intervals of tea-drinking And what is your correspondent, Mr. Thornton, like?  I should guess, about thirty About thirty With a face that is neither exactly plain Nor yet handsome Nothing remarkable Not quite a gentleman, but that was hardly to be expected And not vulgar or common, though But in her father rather jealous Of any disparagement of the sole friend He had in Milton Oh, no, said Margaret With such an expression of resolution and power No face, however plain in feature Could be either vulgar or common I should not like to have to bargain with him He looks very inflexible And he seems made for his niche for most agatious And strong as he becomes a great tradesman Don't call the Milton manufacturer's Tradesman, Margaret Said her father, they are very different Are they? I applied the word to all who have something tangible To sell, but if you think the term is not Correct, I won't use it Oh, Mama, speaking of vulgarity In common is you must prepare yourself For a drawing room paper Pink and blue roses with yellow leaves And such a heavy cord is round the wrong But when they removed to their new house in Milton The obnoxious papers were gone The landlord received their thanks Very composedly and let them think of their life That he had relanted from his express determination Not to repaper There was no particular need to tell them That what he did not care to do For a reverend Mr. Hale, unknown in Milton He was only too glad to do At the one short, sharp remonstrance Of Mr. Thornton, the wealthy manufacturer End of Chapter 7 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 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 North and South By Elizabeth Gaskell Chapter 8 Homesickness It neared the pretty light Papering of the rooms To reconcile them to Milton It needed more More that could not be had The thick yellow November Vox had come on And the view of the plain in the valley Made by the sweeping bend of the river Was all shut out When Mrs. Hale arrived at her new home Margaret and Dixon had been at work For two days Unpacking and arranging But everything inside the house Still looked in disorder And outside a thick fog Crept up to the very windows And was driven into every open door In choking white wreaths Of unwholesome mist Oh Margaret Are we to live here As Mrs. Hale in black dismay Margaret's heart Echoed the dreariness of the tone In which this question was put She could scarcely command herself Enough to say All the folks in London are sometimes Far worse But then you knew that London Itself and friends lay behind it Here well We are desolate Oh Dixon What a place this is Indeed mum I'm sure it'll be your death before long And then I'll know who'll stay Mrs. Hale That's far too heavy for you to lift Not at all Thank you Dixon Replied Margaret Coldly The best thing we can do for Mamar Is to get to a room quite ready For her to go to bed While I'll go and bring her a cup of coffee Mr. Hale was equally out of spirits And equally came upon Margaret For sympathy Margaret I do believe this is an unhealthy place Only suppose that your mother's health Or yours should suffer I wish I had gone into some country Place in Wales This is really terrible Said he going up to the window There was no comfort to be given There was settled in Milton And must endure smoke and fogs For a season Indeed all their life Seem shut out from them By a thicker fog Of circumstances Only the day before Mr. Hale had been reckoning up With dismay How much the removal and fortnight That Heston had cost And he found it had absorbed Nearly all his little stock Of ready money Not here they were And here they must remain At night When Margaret realised this She felt inclined to sit down In a stupor of despair The heavy smoky air hung About her bedroom Which occupied the long Narrow projection at the back of the house The window Placed at the side of the oblong Looked to the blank wall Of a similar projection Not above ten feet distant It loomed through the fog Like a great barrier to hope Inside the room Everything was in confusion All the efforts had been directed To make her mother's room comfortable Margaret sat down on a box The direction card upon which Struck her as having been Written at Heston Beautiful, beloved Heston She lost herself In dismal thought At last she determined To take her mind away From the present And suddenly remembered that She had a letter from Judith Which she had only half read In the bustle of the morning It was to tell of their arrival At Corfu Their voyage Along the Mediterranean Their music and dancing Bored ship The gay new life Opening upon her Her house with its trestled balcony And its views over white cliffs And deep blue sea Edith wrote fluently and well If not graphically She could not only seize The salient and characteristic Points of a scene She could enumerate enough Of indiscriminate particulars For Margaret to make it out For herself Captain Lennox and another Lately married officer shared a villa High up on the beautiful Patipatus rocks Overhanging the sea The days Late as it was in the year Soon spent in boating Or land picnics all out of doors Pleasure-sinking and glad Edith's life seemed like The deep falter blue sea above her Free Utterly free from fleck or cloud Her husband had to attend To drill And she, the most musical Officer's wife there, had to Copy the new and popular tunes Out of the most recent English Music for the benefit of Her bandmaster Those seemed Their most severe and arduous duties She expressed an affectionate Hope that if the regiment Stopped another year at Corfu Margaret might come out And pay her little visit She asked Margaret If she remembered the day Twelve months on which She, Edith wrote How it rained all day long In Harley Street She had gone on her new gown To go to a stupid dinner And get it all wet and splashed In going to the carriage And how at that very dinner They had met Captain Lennox Yes, Margaret remembered it well Edith and Mrs. Shaw Had gone to dinner Margaret had joined the party In the evening The recollection of the plentiful luxury Of all the arrangements The stately handsomeness of the furniture The size of the house The peaceful, untroubled ease Of the visitors All came vividly before her In strange contrast to the present time The smooth sea That odd life closed up That a mark left to tell Where they had all been The habitual dinners The calls, the shopping The dancing evenings were all going on Going on forever That her Aunt Shaw and Edith Were no longer there And she, of course, was much less missed She doubted if any one of that old set Ever thought of her Except Henry Lennox He too, she thought, would try to forget her Because of the pain she had caused him She had heard him often boast of his power Of putting any disagreeable thought Far away from him Then she penetrated further Into what might have been If she had cared for him as a lover And had accepted him And this change in her father's Opinions and consequences Station had taken place She could not doubt That it would have been impatiently Received by Mr. Lennox It was a bitter modification To her, in one sense Which she could bear it Patiently Because she knew her father's purity Of purpose And that strengthened her to Ensure his errors, grave And serious, though in her estimation They were But the fact of the world Steaming her father's degraded In its rough, wholesale judgment Would have oppressed and irritated Mr. Lennox As she realised what might have been She grew to be thankful For what was They were at the lowest now They could not be worse Needless astonishment And her aunts' chores dismay Would have to be met bravely When their letters came So Margaret rose up And began slowly to undress herself Feeling the full luxury Of acting leisurely Later as it was After all, the past hurry of the day She fell asleep hoping for some Brightness, either internal Or external If she had known how long it would be Before the brightness came Her heart would have sank low down The time of the year was most Unprecious to health As one as to spirits Her mother caught a severe cold And Dickson herself Was evidently not well Although Margaret could not Insult her more than By trying to save her Or by taking any care of her They could hear of no girl Or sister Or at work in the factories At least those who applied Were well scolded by Dickson For thinking that such as they Could ever be trusted to work In a gentleman's house So they had to keep a child woman In almost constant employ Margaret longed to send for Charlotte But besides the objections Of her being a better servant Than they could now afford to keep The distant was too great Mr. Hale met with several pupils Recommended to him By Mr. Bell Or by the more imminent Influence of Mr. Thornton They were mostly of the age When many boys would be still at school But according to the prevalent And apparently well-founded notions Of Milton To make a lad into a good tradesman He must be caught young And are climitated To the life of a male Or office or warehouse If he were sent To even the Scottish universities He came back and settled For commercial pursuits How much more so If he went to Oxford or Cambridge Where he could not be entered Till he was eighteen So most of the manufacturers Placed their sons In sucking situations At fourteen or fifteen years Of age And sparingly cutting off Offshoots in the direction Of literature or high Mental cultivation In hopes of throwing the whole Strength and figure of the plant Into commerce Still there were some wiser parents And some young men Who had sense enough To perceive their own deficiencies And strived to remedy them Nay, they were a few No longer youths But men in a prime of life Who had the stern Wisdom To acknowledge their own ignorance And to learn late What they should have learnt early Mr. Thornton was perhaps The oldest Of Mr. Hell's pupils He was certainly the favourite Mr. Hell got into habit Of quoting his opinion So frequently And with such regard He became a little domestic joke To wonder what time During the hour appointed for instruction Be given to absolute learning So much of it appeared To have been spent in conversation Margot to rather Encouraged the slight Merry way of viewing Her father's acquaintance with Mr. Thornton Because she felt that Her mother was inclined To look upon this new friendship Of her husbands with jealous eyes As long as his time had been solely occupied With his books And his parishioners As at Halston She had appeared to care little Whether she saw much of him or not But now that he looked eagerly forward To each renewal Of his intercourse with Mr. Thornton She seemed hurt and annoyed As if he were slighting Her companionship For the first time Mr. Hale's overpraise had the usual effect Of overpraise Upon his auditors They were little inclined to rebel Against Astrotized Beings Always called the just After a quiet July from a country Parsonage For more than twenty years There was something dazzling to Mr. Hale In the energy Which conquered immense difficulties with ease The power of the machinery of Milton The power of the men of Milton Impressed him with a sense of grandeur Which he yielded to Without caring to inquire Into the details of its exercise But Margaret went less abroad Among machinery and men Saw less of power In its public effect And as in happened She was thrown with one or two Of those who In all measures Affecting masses of people Must be acute sufferings For the good of many The question always is Has everything been done to make The sufferings of these exceptions As small as possible Or in the triumph of the crowded procession Have the helpless been trampled on Instead of being gently Lifted aside out of the roadway Of the conqueror Whom they have no power to accompany On his march It failed to Margaret's share To have to look out for a servant To assist Dixon Who had at first undertaken to find Just the person she wanted to do All the rough work of the house But Dixon's ideas of Helpful girls were founded On the recollection of tidy, Elder scholars At Halston school Who were only too proud to be allowed To come to the Parsonage on a busy day And treated Mrs. Dixon With all the respect and good deal Of more fright which they paid To Mr. and Mrs. Hale Dixon was not unconscious Of this old reverence Which she was given to her Nor did she just like it It flattered her as much as the loose The fourteenth was flattered By his courtiers Shading their eyes from the dazzling Light of his presence But nothing short of her faithful Love for Mrs. Hale could have Endure the rough, independent way In which all the Milton girls Made applications for the servant's place Replied to inquiries respecting Their qualifications They even went at the length Of questioning her back again Having doubts and fears of their own As to the solvency of a family Who lived in a house Of thirty pounds a year And it gave themselves airs And kept to servants One of them so very high and mighty Mr. Hale was no longer looked upon As figure of Halston But as a man who only spent At a certain rate Margaret was weary and impatient Of the accounts which Dixon But petrally brought to Mrs. Hale Of the behaviour of those Would-be servants Not by what Margaret was repelled By the rough, uncurtious manners Of these people Which shrunk from Faustides Bride From their Hale fellow haka host And severely resented their unconcealed curiosity As to the means and position Of any family who lived in Milton And yet were not engaged In trade of some kind But the more Margaret felt in pertinence The more likely she was To be silent on the subject And at any rate If she took upon herself To make inquiry for a servant She could spare her mother the recital Of her disappointments and fancied Or real insults Margaret accordingly went up and down To butchers and grocers Asking for a non-parrel of a girl And luring her hopes and expectations Every week As she found the difficulty of meeting With anyone in a manufacturing town Who did not prefer the better wages And greater independence Of working in a mill To something of a trial to Margaret To go out by herself in this busy bustling place She's sure's ideas of her priority And her own helpless dependence on others Had always made her insist that her footman Should accompany you, Dith and Margaret If they went to Beyond Harley Street Or the immediate neighbourhood The limits by which this rule of her aunts Had circumscribed Margaret's independence Had been silently rebelled against at the time And she had doubly enjoyed the free walks And rambles of her forest life From the contrast which they presented She went along there with a bounding, fearless step That occasionally broke out into a run If she were in a hurry And occasionally was stilled into perfect repose As she stood listening to Or watching any of the wild creatures Who sang in the leafy courts Or glanced out with her keen, bright eyes From the low brushwood or tangled furrows It was a trial to come down From such motion or such stillness Only guided by her own sweet will To the even and decorous pace Necessary into two streets But she could have laughed at herself For minding this change If it had not been accompanied By what was a more serious annoyance The side of the town on which Cramped in lay Was especially a thoroughfare For the factory people In the back streets around them There were many mills Out of which poured streams Of men and women Two or three times a day Until Margaret had learnt The times of their ingress And agress She was very unfortunate And constantly falling in with them They came rushing along With bold, fearless faces And loud laughs and jests Particularly aimed at all those Who appeared to be above them In rank or station The tones of their unrestrained voices And their carelessness Of all common rules of stress Politeness frightened Margaret Little at first Girls with their rough But not unfriendly freedom Would comment on her dress Even touch her shawl or gown To ascertain the exact material Nay, once or twice She was asked questions Related to some article Which they particularly admired There was such a simple realliance On her womanly sympathy With their love of dress And on her kindness That she gladly replied To her inquiries As soon as she understood them And to have smiled back at their remarks She did not mind meeting Any number of girls Had spoken a boystress Though they might be But she alternately dreaded And fired up against the workmen Who commented not on her dress But on her looks In the same open, fearless manner She would hear to felt Even the most refined remark On her personal appearance Was an impertinence Had to endure Undistinguished admiration From these outspoken men But the very outspokenness marked The innocence of any intentions To her to delicacy As she would have perceived If she had been less frightened By the disorderly tumult Out of her fright came A flash of indignation And made her face scarlet And her dark eyes gather flame She heard some of their speeches Yet there were other sayings of theirs Which, when she reached the quiet Safety of home, amused it Even while they irritated her For instance, one day After she had passed a number of men Several of whom had paid her The most unusual compliment Of wishing she was their sweetheart Was ended, your bonny face, my lass Makes the day look brighter And another day As she was unconsciously smiling At some passing thought She was addressed by a poorly dressed Middle-aged workman With, you may well smile, my lass Many a one would smile To have such a bonny face This man looked so care-worn That Margaret could not help Giving him an answering smile Glad to think that her looks Such as they were Should have had the power To call up a pleasant thought He seemed to understand her Acknowledging glance And a silent recognition Was established between them Whenever the chances of the day Brought them across each other's past They had never exchanged a word Nothing had been said But their first compliment Yet somehow Margaret looked Upon this man with more interest Than anyone else in Milton Not so twice on Sundays She saw him walking with a girl Evidently his daughter And if possible, still more unhealthy Than he was himself One day Margaret and her father Had been as far as the fields That lay round the town It was only spring, and she had gathered Some of the hedge and ditch flowers Dog violets, as the salendines And the like with an unspoken lament In her heart for the sweet profusion Of the south, but father had left her To go into Milton upon some business And on the road home She met her humble friends The girl looked wistfully at the flowers And acting on a sudden impulse Margaret offered them to her Her pale blue eyes lightened up Where she took them And her father spoke for her Thank you, Miss Bessie I'll think a deal of them flowers That to a will And I shall think a deal of your kindness You're not of this country, I reckon No, said Margaret, her smiling I come from the south From Hampshire, she continued A little afraid of wounding His consciousness of ignorance If she used her name Which she did not understand That's beyond London, I reckon And I come from Burnley, ways Forty miles to the north And yet you see North and south has both met And made kind of friends In this big smoky place Margaret had slackened her pace To walk alongside of the man And his daughter Whose steps were regulated By the feebleness of the latter She now spoke to the girl And there was a sound Of tender pity in the turn Which she did so That went right to the heart of the father I'm afraid you're not very strong No, said the girl Nor never will be Spring is coming, said Margaret As if to suggest pleasant, hopeful thoughts Spring nor summer will do me good Said the girl quietly Margaret looked up at the man Almost expecting some Contradiction from him Or at least some remark That could modify his daughter's utter hopelessness But instead he added I'm afraid who speaks truth I'm afraid who's too far gone in a waste I shall have a spring Where I'm bound to In flowers and amhersts And shining rows of sides Poor lass, poor lass Said her father in a low tone I'm none so sure of that But it's a comfort to thee Poor lass, poor lass Poor lass, poor father It'll be soon Margaret shocked by his words Shocked but not repelled Father attracted and interested Which you live I think we must be neighbours We meet so often on this road We put up at 9 Francis Street Second turn to the left At after a year of Past the golden dragon And your name I must not forget that I'm none ashamed of my name Is Nicholas Higgins Who's called Bessie Higgins What are you asking for? Margaret was surprised At this last question For Telston it would have been An understanding thing After the enquiry she had made That she had tended to come And call upon any poor neighbour Whose name and inhabitation She'd asked for I thought I meant to come And finally felt rather shy Of offering the visit Without having any reason To give for her wish to make it Beyond her kindly interest In a stranger Seemed all at once to take the shape Of an impergnence on her part She read this meaning too In the man's eye I'm none so fond of having Strange folk in my house But then, relenting as He saw her heightened colour You're a foreigner, as one may say And maybe you don't know many folk here And you've given my winch Here flowers out of your own hand You may come if you like Margaret was half-amused Half-nettled at this answer She was not sure if she would go Where permission was given So like a favour conferred But when they came to the Turn into Francis Street The girl stopped a minute and said You'll not forget You're to come and see us I said the father impatiently You'll come You're a bit set up now Because you think I might have Spoken more severely But you'll think better on it And come I've read her proud Morning face like a book Come along best There's the mill bill bringing Margaret went home Wondering at her new friends In sight Into what had been passing in her mind From that day Melton became A brighter place to her It was not the long, bleak sunny days of spring Nor yet was it that time Was reconciling her to the town Of her reputation It was that in it She had found a human interest End of Chapter 8 Chapter 9 North and South This is a LibriVoxy Cording All LibriVoxy Codings Are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Hajja Brussels, Belgium North and South By Elizabeth Caskell Chapter 9 Dressing for tea Flat China's earth Enriched coloured stains Penciled with gold Pure veins The grateful flavour of the Indian leaf Or mocha, sunburn, berry Glad, receive Mrs. Barbold The day after this meeting with Higgins and his daughter Mr. Helig came upstairs Into the little drawing room At an unusual hour He went up to different objects in the room As if examining them But Margaret saw that it was merely a nervous trick A way of putting off something he wished He had feared to say Oh, it cannot last My dear I've asked Mr. Thornton to come to tea tonight Mrs. Helig was leaning back in her easy chair With her eyes shut An expression of pain on her face Which had become habitual to her of late But you rose up in the crevelessness At this speech of her husbands Mr. Thornton And tonight What in the world does a man want to come here for? And Dixon is washing my muslins And laces And there's no soft water at these Horrid east winds Which I suppose we shall have all the year Round in Milton The wind is fearing round, my dear Said Mr. Helig looking out at the smoke Which drifted right from the east Only he did not yet understand The points of the compass A rather arranged him at Liberton According to circumstances Don't tell me, said Mrs. Helig Shuddering up, a-rapping her shoulder About it still more closely But the east or west wind I suppose this man comes Oh mama That choice he never saw Mr. Thornton He looks like a person Who would enjoy battling with every Adverse thing he could meet with Enemies, winds or circumstances The more it rains and blows The more certain we are to have him But I'll go and help Dixon I'm getting to be a famous Clearstarcher And he won't want any amusement Beyond talking to Papa Papa, I'm really longing To see the Pytheist to a day You know I never saw him but once And then we were so puzzled to know What to say to each other That we did not get him particularly well I don't know that you would ever like Him or think him agreeable, Margaret He's not a ladies' man Margaret read that her throat is Cornfield Curve I really admire a ladies' man, Papa But Mrs. Thornton comes here as your friend Is one who has appreciated you The only person in Milton Said Mrs. Hill So we will give him a welcome And some coconut cakes Dixon will be flattered if we ask her To make some And I will undertake to iron her caps mama Many a time that morning That Margaret wished Mr. Thornton far enough away She had planned other Employments for herself A letter to Edith A good piece of dente A visit to the Higgins' But instead she ironed away Listening to Dixon's complaints And only hoping that by an excess of sympathy She might prevent her from carrying The recital of her soul to Mrs. Hill Every now and then Margaret had to remind herself Of her father's regard for Mr. Thornton To subdue the irritation of rariness That was stealing over her And bringing on one of the bad Things she had lately become liable She could hardly speak When she sat down at last And told her mother that she was no longer Peggy, the laundry maid But Margaret Hale, the lady She meant this speech to a little joke And was vexed enough with a busy tongue When she phoned her mother taking it seriously Yes If anyone had told me When I was Miss Paris Ford And one of the bells of the county That a child of mine Would stay in a little pokey kitchen Working away like any servant That we might prepare Properly for the reception of a tradesman And that this tradesman should be the only Oh mama, said Margaret Lifting herself up Don't punish me so for a careless speech I don't mind ironing Or any kind of work for you and papa I am a self-aborn and bread lady Throod all Even though it comes to scouring a floor Or washing dishes I am tired now just for a little while But in a half an hour I shall be ready to do the same over again And as to Mr Thornton's being in trade Why he can't help that no poor fellow I don't suppose his education would fit him for Margelle's Margaret lifted herself slowly up And went to her own room For just now she could not bear much more In Mr Thornton's house At this very same time A similar yet different scene Was going on A large blind lady A large blind lady Long past middle age Said at work in a grim handsomely furnished tiny room Her features Like a frame with strong And massive, rather than heavy Her face moved slowly From one decided expression To another equally decided There was no great variety And accountants With those who looked at it once Generally looked at it again Even the passersby on the street At a firm, severe, dignified woman Who never gave way in street courtesy Or paused in a straight onward course To the clearly defined end Which she proposed herself She was handsomely dressed in star black silk Of which not a thread was worn or discoloured She was mending a large long Tablecloth of the finest texture Holding it up against the light Occasionally to discover thin places Which required her delicate care There was not a book about in the room With the exception of Matthew Henry's Bible commentaries Six volumes of which lay in the centre Of the massive sideboard Flanked by a de-erne on one side And a lamp on the other In some remote apartment There was exercise upon the piano going on Someone was practicing up A morseau de salon Playing it very rapidly Every third note on an average Being either indistinct or wholly mistowed And the loud chords at the end Being half of them fours But not the less satisfactory to the performer Mrs. Thornton heard a step Like her own in this decisive character Pass a dining-room door John, is there you? Her son opened the door And showed himself What's brought you home so early? I thought you were going to deal With a friend of Mr. Bell's? That's Mr. Hale. Sorry, mother. I've come home to dress. Dress? When I was a girl Young men were satisfied with dressing once in a day. Why should you dress to go And take a cup of tea with an old person? Mr. Hale is a gentleman And his wife and daughter are ladies. Wife and daughter? Do they teach too? What do they do? You've never mentioned them. No, mother, because I've never seen Mrs. Hale. I have only seen Miss Hale for half an hour.  I'm not easily called, mother, As I think you know. But I must not have Miss Hale spoken of in that way, Which, you know, is offensive to me. I never was aware Of any young lady trying to catch me yet, Nor do I believe that anyone Has ever given themselves that useless trouble. Mrs. Thornton did not choose To yield the point to her son, Or else she had, in general, Pride enough for her sex. Well, I only say take care. Perhaps our militant girls Have too much spirit and good feeling To go angling after husbands. But this Miss Hale comes out Of dearest to credit counties, Where, if all tales be true, Which husbands are reckon prices. Mother, with a short scorn for love, You will make me confess, The only time I saw Miss Hale She treated me with a haughty civility Which had a strong flavour of contempt in it. She held herself aloof from me, As if she had been a queen And I her humble, unwashed vessel. Be easy, mother. No, I'm not easy. Nor contend either. All business had she a renegade clergyman's daughter To turn up a nice adieu. I would trust for none of them A saucy set of eye with you. As he was leaving the room, he said, Mr. Hale is good, And gentle, and learned. He's not saucy. As for Mrs. Hale, I will tell you what she is like tonight If you care to hear.  Despite my son, Treat him as a vessel indeed. I should like to know where she could find such another. Boy, a man. He's a noble, stoutest heart I ever knew. I don't care if I'm his mother. I can see what's rather not be blind. I know what Fanny is. And I know what John is.  End of chapter nine Chapter 10 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 Elizabeth Athens, Greece North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell Chapter 10 Rot iron and gold We are the trees, whom shaking fast and small George Herbert Mr Thornton left the house without coming into the dining room again. He was rather late and walked rapidly out to Crampton. He was anxious not to slight his new friend by any disrespectful unfunctuality. The church clock struck half past seven as he stood at the door awaiting dicks and slow movements. Always doubly tardy when she had to degrade herself by answering the doorbell. He was ushered into the little drawing room and kindly greeted by Mr Hale who led him up to his wife whose pale face and shoulder-raped figure made a silent excuse for the cold langa of a greeting. Margaret was lighting the lamp when he entered, for the darkness was coming on. The lamp threw a pretty light into the centre of the dusky room from which, with country habits, they did not exclude the night skies and the outer darkness of air. Somehow that room contrasted itself with the one he had lately left. Handsome, ponderous, with no sign of feminine habitation except in the one spot where his mother sat and no convenience for any other employment than eating and drinking. To be sure it was a dining room. His mother preferred to sit in it and her will was a household law. But the drawing room was not like this. It was twice, twenty times as fine, not one quarter as comfortable. Here were no mirrors, not even a scrap of glass to reflect the light and answer the same purpose as water in a landscape. No gilding, a warm, sober breadth of colouring well relieved by the dear old Halston-Chinch curtains and chair covers. An open Davenport stood in the window opposite the door. In the other there was a stand with a tall white china vase from which drooped wreaths of English Ivy, pale green birch and copper coloured beach leaves. Pretty baskets of work stood about in different places and books not cared for on account of their binding solely lay on one table as if recently put down. Behind the door was another table decked out for tea with a white tablecloth on which flourished the coconut cakes and the basket piled with oranges and ruddy American apples heaped on leaves. It appeared to Mr. Thornton that all these graceful cares were habitual to the family and especially of a peace with Margaret. She stood by the tea table in a light coloured muslin gown which had a good deal of pink about it. She looked as if she was not attending to the conversation but solely busy with the tea cups among which her round ivory hands moved with pretty noiseless daintiness. She had a bracelet on one taper arm which would fall down over her round wrist. Mr. Thornton watched the replacing of this troublesome ornament with far more attention than he listened to her father. It seemed as if it fascinated him to see her push it up impatiently until it tightened her soft flesh and then to mark the loosening, the fall. He could almost have exclaimed there it goes again. There was so little left to be done after he arrived at the preparation for tea that he was almost sorry the obligation of eating and drinking so soon to prevent his watching Margaret. She handed him his cup of tea with the proud air of an unwilling slave but her eye caught the moment when he was ready for another cup and he almost longed to ask her to do for him what he saw her compelled to do for her father who took her little finger and thumb in his masculine hand and made them serve as sugar tongs. Mr. Thornton saw her beautiful eyes lifted to her father full of light, half laughter as this bit of pantomime went on between the two unobserved as a fancied by Annie. Margaret's head still ached as the paleness of her complexion and her silence might have testified but she was resolved to throw herself into the breach if there was any long underwalled pause rather than that her father's friend, pupil and guest should have caused to think himself in any way neglected. But the conversation went on and Margaret drew into a corner near her mother with her work after the tea-things were taken away and felt that she might let her thoughts roam without fear of being suddenly wanted to fill up a gap. Mr. Thornton and Mr. Hale were both absorbed in the continuation of some subject which had been started at the last meeting. Margaret was recalled to a sense of the present by some trivial low-spoken remark of her mother's and on suddenly looking up from her work her eye was caught by the difference of her childhood appearance between her father and Mr. Thornton as betokening such distinctly opposite natures. Her father was a slight figure which made him appear taller than he really was when not contrasted as at this time with a tall, massive frame of another. The lines in her father's face were soft and waving with a frequent undulating kind of trembling movement passing over them showing every fluctuating emotion. The eyelids were large and arched but the eyes a peculiar languid beauty which was almost feminine. The brows were finely arched but were by the very size of the dreamy lids raised to a considerable distance from the eyes. Now in Mr. Thornton's face the straight brows fell low over the clear, deep-set, earnest eyes which, without being unpleasantly sharp, seemed intent enough to penetrate into the very heart and core of what he was looking at. The lines in the face were few but firm as if they were carved in marble and lay principally about the lips which were slightly compressed over a set of teeth so fortless and beautiful as to give the effect of sudden sunlight when the rare bright smile coming in an instant and shining out of the eyes changed the whole look from the severe and resolved expression of a man ready to do and dare everything to the keen, honest enjoyment of the moment which is seldom shown so fearlessly and instantaneously by children. Margaret liked this smile. It was the first thing she had admired in this new friend of her father's and the opposition of character shown in all these details of appearance she had just been noticing seemed to explain the attraction they evidently felt towards each other. She rearranged her mother's worsted work and fell back into her own thoughts as completely forgotten by Mr. Thornton as if she had not been in the room in spite in explaining to Mr. Hale the magnificent power yet delicate adjustment of the might of the steam hammer which was recalling to Mr. Hale some of the wonderful stories of subservient genii in the Arabian nights one moment stretching from earth to sky and filling all the width of the horizon at the next obediently compressed into a vase small enough to be born in the hand of a child and this imagination of power this practical realization of a gigantic thought came out of one man's brain in our good town that very man has it within him to mount step by step on each wonder he achieves to higher marvel still and I'll be bound to say we have many among us who if he were gone could spring into the breach and carry on the war which compels and shall compel all material power to yield to science your boast reminds me of the old lines I have a hundred captains in England he said as good as ever was he at her father's quotation Margaret looked suddenly up with inquiring wonder in her eyes how in the world had they got from cogwheel to chevy chase it is no boast of mine replied Mr. Thornton it is plain matter of fact I won't deny that I am proud of belonging to a town or perhaps I should rather say a district the necessities of which give birth to such grandeur of conception a man toiling, suffering, nay failing and successless here then lead a dull, prosperous life in the old worn grooves of what you call more aristocratic society down in the south with a slow days of careless ease one may be clogged with honey and unable to rise and fly you are mistaken said Margaret roused by the aspersion on her beloved south to a fond vehemence of defence that brought the colour into her cheeks and the angry tears into her eyes you do not know anything about the south if there is less adventure or less progress I suppose I must not say less excitement from the gambling spirit of trade which seems requisite to force out these wonderful inventions there is less suffering also I see men here going about in the streets who look round down by some pinching sorrow or care who are not only sufferers but haters now in the south we have our poor but there is not that terrible expression in their countenances of a silent sense of injustice which I see here you do not know the south, Mr. Thornton she concluded collapsing into a determined silence and angry with herself for having said so much and may I say you do not know the north, ask he with an inexpressible gentleness in his tone as he saw that he had really hurt her she continued resolutely silent yearning after the lovely haunts left far away in Hampshire with a passionate longing that made her feel her voice would be unsteady in trembling if she spoke at any rate, Mr. Thornton, said Mrs. Hale you will allow that Milton is a much more smoky dirty town than you will ever meet with in the south I'm afraid I must give up its cleanliness said Mr. Thornton with a quick gleaming smile but we are bidden by parliament to burn our own smoke so I suppose like good little children we shall do as we are bidden some time but I think you told me you had altered your chimneys so as to consume the smoke did you not? asked Mr. Hale mine were altered by my own will before parliament meddled with the affair it was an immediate outlay but it repays me in the saving of coal I'm not sure whether I should have done it if I had waited until the act was passed at any rate I should have waited to be informed against and fined given all the trouble in yielding that I legally could but all laws which depend for their enforcement upon informers and fines becoming inert from the odiousness of the machinery I doubt if there has been a chimney in Milton informed against for five years past although some are constantly sending out one third of their coal in what is called here unparliamentary smoke I only know it is impossible to keep the muslin blinds clean here above a week together and at Halston we have had them up for a month or more and they have not looked dirty at the end of that time and as for hands Margaret how many times did you say you had washed your hands this morning before twelve o'clock? three times was it not? yes mama you seem to have a strong objection to acts of parliament and all legislation affecting your mode of management down here at Milton said Mr. Hale yes I have and many others have as well and with justice I think the whole machinery I don't mean the wooden iron machinery now of the cotton trade is so new that it is no wonder if it does not work well in every part all at once seventy years ago what was it and now what is it not raw crude materials came together men of the same level as regarded education and station took suddenly the different positions of masters and men owing to the mother-wit as regarded opportunities and probabilities which distinguished some and made them far seeing as to what great future lay concealed in that rude model of so rigid arc rides the rapid development of what might be called a new trade gave those early masters enormous power of wealth and command I don't mean merely over the workmen I mean over purchasers over the whole world's market why I may give you as an instance an advertisement inserted not fifty years ago in a Milton paper but so and so the half-dozen calico printers of the time would close his warehouse at noon each day therefore that all purchasers must come before that hour fancy a man dictating in this manner the time when he would sell and when he would not sell now I believe if a good customer chose to come at midnight I should get up and stand hat in hand to receive his orders Margaret's lip curled but somehow she was compelled to listen she could no longer abstract herself in her own thoughts I only name such things to show what almost unlimited power the manufacturers had about the beginning of this century the men were rendered dizzy by it because a man was successful in his ventures there was no reason that in all other things his mind should be well balanced on the contrary his sense of justice and his simplicity were often utterly smothered under the glut of wealth that came down upon him and they tell strange tales of the wild extravagance of living indulged in on-gala days by those early cotton lords there can be no doubt too of the tyranny the exercise over there were people you know the proverb Mr. Hale set a beggar on horseback and he'll ride to the devil well some of these early manufacturers did ride to the devil in a magnificent style crushing human bone and flesh under their horses hooves without remorse but by and by came a reaction there were more factories more masters more men were wanted the power of masters and men became more evenly balanced and now the battle is pretty fairly waged between us we will hardly submit to the decision of an umpire much less to the interference of a meddler with only a smettering of the knowledge of the real facts of the case even though that meddler be called the High Court of Parliament is there a necessity for calling it a battle between the two classes asked Mr. Hale I know from your using the term it is one which gives a true idea of the real state of things to your mind it is true and I believe it to be as much a necessity as that prudent wisdom and good conduct are always opposed to and doing battle with ignorance and improvidence it is one of the great beauties of our system that a working man may raise himself into the power and position of a master by his own exertions and behaviour that in fact everyone who rules himself to decency and sobriety of conduct of his duties comes over to our ranks it may not be always as a master but as an overlooker, a cashier a bookkeeper, a clerk one on the side of authority and order you consider all who are unsuccessful in raising themselves in the world from whatever cause as your enemies then if I understand you rightly said Margaret in a clear cold voice as their own enemies certainly said he quickly not a little peek by the haughty disapproval her form of expression and tone of speaking implied but in a moment his straightforward honesty made him feel that his words were but a poor and quibbling answer to what he had said and be she as conful as she liked it was a duty he owed to himself to explain as truly as he could what he did mean yet it was very difficult to separate her interpretation and keep it distinct from his meaning he could best have illustrated what he wanted to say by telling them something of his own life but was it not too personal a subject to speak about or strangers still it was a simple straightforward way of explaining his meaning so putting aside the touch of shyness that brought a momentary flush of color into his dark cheek he said I am not speaking without book sixteen years ago my father died under very miserable circumstances I was taken from school and had to become a man as well as I could in a few days I had such a mother as few are blessed with a woman of strong power and firm resolve we went into a small country town where living was cheaper than in Milton and where I got employment in a draper shop a capital place by the way for obtaining a knowledge of goods week by week our income came to fifteen chillings out of which three people had to be kept my mother managed so that I put by three out of these fifteen chillings regularly this made the beginning this taught me self denial now that I am able to afford my mother such comfort as her age rather than her own wish requires I thank her silently on each occasion for the early training she gave me now when I feel that in my own case it is no good luck nor merit nor talent but simply the habits of life which taught me to despise indulgences not thoroughly earned indeed never to think twice about them I believe that this suffering which Miss Hale says is impressed on the countenances of the people of Milton is but a natural punishment of dishonestly enjoyed pleasure at some former period of their lives I do not look on self indulgent sensual people as worthy of my hatred I simply look upon them with contempt for their poorness of character but you have had the rudiments of a good education remarked Mr Hale the quick zest with which you are now reading Homer shows me that I have come to it as an unknown book you have read it before and are only recalling your old knowledge that is true I had plundered along it at school I dare say I was even considered a pretty fair classic in those days though my Latin and Greek have slipped away from me since but I ask you what preparation they were for such a life as I had to lead none at all utterly none at all on the point of education it starts fair with me in the amount of really useful knowledge that I had at the time well, I don't agree with you but there I am perhaps somewhat of a pedant did not the recollection of the heroic simplicity of the Homeric life nerve you up not one bit exclaimed Mr Thornton laughing I was too busy to think about any dead people with a living pressing alongside of me neck to neck in the struggle for bread now that I have my mother safe that becomes her age and duly rewards her former exertions I can turn to all that old narration and thoroughly enjoy it I dare say my remark came from the professional feeling of there being nothing like leather, replied Mr Hale when Mr Thornton rose up to go away after shaking hands with Mr and Mrs Hale he made an advance to Margaret to wish her good-bye in a similar manner it was the frank familiar custom of the place that Margaret was not prepared for it she simply bowed her farewell although the instant she saw the hand half put out quickly drawn back she was sorry she had not been away of the intention Mr Thornton however knew nothing of her sorrow and drawing himself up to his full height walked off muttering as he left the house a more proud disagreeable girl I never saw even her great beauties blotted out of one's memory by her scornful ways End of chapter 10