"Then I thank you, noble lady,
But I cannot do your will:
Where he left me, he must find me,
Waiting, watching, hoping, still!"

NORTH AND SOUTH.

BY THE AUTHOR OF MARY BARTON.

CHAPTER THE TWELFTH.

Mr. THORNTON had had some difficulty in
working up his mother to the desired point
of civility. She did not often make calls;
and when she did, it was in heavy state that
she went through her duties. Her son had
given her a carriage; but she refused to let
him keep horses for it; they were hired for
the solemn occasions, when she paid morning
or evening visits. She had had horses for
three days not a fortnight before, and had
comfortably "killed off" all her acquaintances,
who might now put themselves to trouble and
expense in their turn. Yet Crampton was
too far off for her to walk; and she had repeatedly
questioned her son as to whether his
wish that she should call on the Hales was
strong enough to bear the expense of cab-
hire. She would have been thankful if it
had not; for, as she said, she saw no use in
making up friendships and intimacies with
all the teachers and masters in Milton;
why, he would be wanting her to call on
Fanny's dancing- master's wife, the next
thing!"

"And so I would, mother, if Mr. Mason
and his wife were friendless in a strange place,
like the Hales."

"Oh! you need not speak so hastily. I am
going to-morrow. I only wanted you exactly
to understand about it."

"If you are going to-morrow, I shall order
horses."

"Nonsense, John. One would think you
were made of money."

"Not quite, yet. But about the horses
I'm determined. The last time you were out
in a cab, you came home with a headache
from the jolting."

"I never complained of it, I'm sure."

"No! My mother is not given to complaints,"
said he, a little proudly.

"But so much the more I have to watch
over you. Now, as for Fanny there, a little
hardship would do her good."

"She is not made of the same stuff as you
are, John. She could not bear it."

Mrs. Thornton was silent after this; for
her last words bore relation to a subject which
mortified her. She had an unconscious contempt
for a weak character; and Fanny was
weak in the very points in which her mother
and brother were strong. Mrs.Thornton was not
a woman much given to reasoning; her quick
judgment and firm resolution served her in
good stead of any long arguments and discussions
with herself; she felt instinctively
that nothing could strengthen Fanny to endure
hardships patiently, or face difficulties
bravely; and though she winced as she made
this acknowledgment to herself about her
daughter, it only gave her a kind of pitying
tenderness of manner towards her; much of
the same description of demeanour with which
mothers are wont to treat their weak and
sickly children. A stranger, a careless observer
might have considered that Mrs. Thornton's
manner to her children betokened far more
love to Fanny than to John. But such a one
would have been deeply mistaken. The very
daringness with which mother and son spoke
out unpalatable truths, the one to the other,
showed a reliance on the firm centre of each
other's souls; which the uneasy tenderness
of Mrs. Thornton's manner to her daughter,
the shame with which she sought to hide the
poverty of her child in all the grand qualities
which she herself possessed unconsciously,
and which she set so high a value upon
in others this shame, I say, betrayed the want
of a secure resting-place for her affection.
She never called her son by any name but
John; "love," and "dear," and such like
terms, were reserved for Fanny. But her
heart gave thanks for him day and night;
and she walked proudly among women for
his sake.

"Fanny dear! I shall have horses to the
carriage to-day, to go and call on these Hales.
Should not you go and see nurse? It is in
the same direction, and she is always so glad
to see you. You could go on there while I
am at Mrs. Hale's."

"Oh! mamma, it is such a long way, and
I am so tired."

"With what? " asked Mrs. Thornton, her
brow slightly contracting.

"I don't know— the weather, I think. It
is so relaxing. Could not you bring nurse
here, mamma? The carriage could fetch her,
and she could spend the rest of the day here,
which I know she would like."

Mrs. Thornton did not speak! but she laid
her work on the table, and seemed to think.

"It will be a long way for her to walk back
at night! " she remarked, at last.

"Oh but I will send her home in a cab.
I never thought of her walking."

At this point, Mr. Thornton came in, just
before going to the mill.

"Mother"! I need hardly say, that if there
is any little thing that could serve Mrs. Hale
as an invalid, you will offer it, I am sure."

"If I can find it out, I will. But I have
never been ill myself, so I am not much up
to invalids' fancies."

"Well! here is Fanny then, who is seldom
without an ailment. She will be able to suggest
something, perhaps won't you, Fan?"

"I have not always an ailment," said Fanny,
pettishly; " and I am not going with mamma.
I have a headache to-day, and I shan't go
out."

Mr. Thornton looked annoyed. His mother's