girls were founded on the recollection of tidy
elder scholars at Helstone 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 a good deal
more of fright, than they paid to Mr. and
Mrs. Hale. Dixon was not unconscious of
this awed reverence which was given to her;
nor did she dislike it; it flattered her much
as Louis 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
made her endure the rough independent way
in which all the Milton girls who made
application for the servant's place replied to
her inquiries respecting their qualifications,
They even went 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 yet
gave themselves airs, and kept two servants,
one of them so very high and mighty. Mr.
Hale was no longer looked upon as vicar of
Helstone, but as a man who only spent at a
certain rate. Margaret was weary and
impatient of the accounts which Dixon
perpetually brought to Mrs. Hale of the
behavior of these would-be servants. Not
but what Margaret was repelled by the rough
uncourteous manners of these people; not
but what she shrunk with fastidious pride
from their hail-fellow accost, 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
impertinence, 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
a servant, she could spare her mother the
recital of all her disappointments and fancied
or real insults.

Margaret accordingly went up and down
to butchers and grocers, seeking for a
nonpareil of a girl; and lowering her hopes and
expectations every week, as she found the
difficulty of meeting with any one in a
manufacturing town who did not prefer the better
wages and greater independence of working
in a mill. It was something of a trial to
Margaret to go out by herself in this busy
bustling place. Mrs. Shaw's ideas of
propriety and her own helpless dependence on
others, had always made her insist that a
footman should accompany Edith and
Margaret if they went beyond Harley Street or
the immediate neighbourhood. The limits
by which this rule of her aunt's 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 their
keen bright eyes from the low brushwood or
tangled furze. 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 in 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 Crampton
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 egress
she was very unfortunate in 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 street politeness, frightened
Margaret a little at first. The 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
relative to some article which they particularly
admired. There was such a simple reliance
on her womanly sympathy with their love of
dress, and on her kindliness, that she gladly
replied to these inquiries as soon as she
understood them; and half-smiled back at
their remarks. She did not mind meeting
any number of girls, loud-spoken and
  boisterous 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, who had hitherto felt that
even the most refined remark on her personal
appearance was an impertinence, had to
endure undisguised admiration from these
out-spoken men. But the very out-spokenness
marked their innocence of any intention
to hurt her 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 which made
her face scarlet, and her dark eyes gather
flame, as she heard some of their speeches.
Yet there were other sayings of theirs,
which, when she reached the quiet safety
of home, amused her even while they
irritated her.

For instance, one day, after she had passed
a number of men, several of whom had paid
her the not unusual compliment of wishing
she was their sweetheart, one of the lingerers
added, " 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-