wonders Mr. Thornton came, bringing another
offering of fruit for Mrs. Hale. He could not
—say rather, he would not—deny himself the
chance of the pleasure of seeing Margaret.
He had no end in this but the present
gratification. It was the sturdy wilfulness of a
man usually most reasonable and self-controlled.
He entered the room, taking in at a
glance the fact of Margaret's presence; but
after the first cold distant bow, he never
seemed to let his eyes fall on her again. He
only stayed to present his papers—to speak
some gentle kindly words—and then his cold
offended eyes met Margaret's with a grave
farewell as he left the room. She sat down
silent and pale.

"Do you know, Margaret, I really begin
quite to like Mr. Thornton."

No answer at first. Then Margaret forced
out an icy " Do you?"

"Yes! I think he is really getting quite
polished in his manners."

Margaret's voice was more in order now.
She replied,

"He is very kind and attentive,—there is
no doubt of that."

"I wonder Mrs. Thornton never calls. She
must know I am ill, because of the water-
bed."

"I dare say she hears how you are from
her son."

"Still I should like to see her. You have
so few friends here, Margaret."

Margaret felt what was in her mother's
thoughts,—a tender craving to bespeak the
kindness of some woman towards the daughter
that might be so soon left motherless. But
she could not speak.

"Do you think," said Mrs. Hale, after a
pause, " that you could go and ask Mrs.
Thornton to come and see me? Only once,—
I don't want to be troublesome."

"I will do anything, if you wish it, mamma,
—but if—but when Frederick comes"——

"Ah, to be sure! we must keep our doors
shut,—we must let no one in. I hardly know
whether I dare wish him to come or not.
Sometimes I think I would rather not. Sometimes
I have such frightful dreams about
him."

"Oh, mamma! we'll take good care. I will
put my arm in the bolt sooner than he should
come to the slightest harm. Trust the care
of him to me, mamma. I will watch over
him like a lioness over her young."

"When can we hear from him?"

"Not for a week yet, certainly,—perhaps
more."

"We must send Martha away in good time.
It would never do to have her here when he
comes, and then send her off in a hurry."

"Dixon is sure to remind us of that. I was
thinking that if we wanted any help in the
house while he is here, we could perhaps get
Mary Higgins. She is very slack of work,
and is a good girl, and would take pains to
do her best, I am sure, and would sleep at
home, and need never come upstairs, so as to
know who is in the house."

"As you please. As Dixon pleases. But,
Margaret, don't get to use these horrid Milton
words. 'Slack of work:' it is a provincialism.
What will your aunt Shaw say if she hears
you use it on her return?"

"Oh, mamma! don't try and make a
bugbear of aunt Shaw," said Margaret, laughing.
"Edith picked up all sorts of military slang
from Captain Lennox, and aunt Shaw never
took any notice of it."

"But yours is factory slang."

"And if I live in a factory town, I must
speak factory language when I want it.
Why, mamma, I could astonish you with a
great many words you never heard in your
life. I don't believe you know what a
knobstick is."

"Not I, child. I only know it has a very
vulgar sound; and I don't want to hear you
using it."

"Very well, dearest mother, I won't. Only
I shall have to use a whole explanatory
sentence instead."

"I don't like this Milton," said Mrs. Hale.
"Edith is right enough in saying it's the
smoke that has made me so ill."

Margaret started up as her mother said
this. Her father had just entered the room,
and she was most anxious that the faint
impression she had seen on his mind that the
Milton air had injured her mother's health,
should not be deepened,—should not receive
any confirmation. She could not tell if he had
heard what Mrs. Hale had said or not; but
she began speaking hurriedly of other things,
unaware that Mr. Thornton was following
him.

"Mamma is accusing me of having picked
up a great deal of vulgarity since we came to
Milton."

The "vulgarity" Margaret spoke of referred
purely to the use of local words, and the
expression arose out of the conversation they
had just been holding. But Mr. Thornton's
brow darkened; and Margaret suddenly felt
how her speech might be misunderstood by
him; so, in the natural sweet desire to avoid
giving unnecessary pain, she forced herself to
go forwards with a little greeting, and
continue what she was saying, addressing
herself to him expressly.

"Now, Mr. Thornton, though knobstick
has not a very pretty sound, is it not expressive?
Could I do without it in speaking of
the thing it represents? If using local words
is vulgar, I was very vulgar in the Forest,—
was I not, mamma?"

It was unusual with Margaret to obtrude
her own subject of conversation on others;
but in this case she was so anxious to prevent
Mr. Thornton from feeling annoyance at the
words he had accidentally overheard, that it
was not until she had done speaking that she
coloured all over with consciousness, more
especially as Mr. Thornton seemed hardly to