 Chapter 42 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 J. Knight, United Kingdom, C-19 North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell Chapter 42 Alone, Alone When some beloved voice that was to you both sound and sweetness Thales suddenly, and silence against which you dare not cry Eggs round you like a strong disease and new What hope? What help? What music will undo that silence to your sense? Mrs. Browning The shock had been great. Margaret fell into a state of prostration Which did not show itself in sobs and tears, or even find the relief of words She lay on the sofa with her eyes shut, never speaking but when spoken to And then replying in whispers Mr. Bell was perplexed. He dared not leave her He dared not ask her to accompany him back to Oxford Which had been one of the plans he had formed on the journey to Milton Her physical exhaustion was evidently too complete for her to undertake any such fatigue Putting the sight that she would have to encounter out of the question Mr. Bell sat over the fire, considering what he had better do Margaret lay motionless and almost breathless by him He would not leave her, even for the dinner which Dixon had prepared for him downstairs And with sobbing hospitality would Faine have tempted him to eat He had a plate full of something brought up to him In general he was particular and dainty enough and knew well each shade of flavour in his food But now the deviled chicken tasted like sawdust He minced up some of the fowl for Margaret and peppered and salted it well But when Dixon, following his directions, tried to feed her The languid shake of head proved that in such a state as Margaret was in Food would only choke, not nourish her Mr. Bell gave a great sigh, lifted up his stout old limbs, stiff with travelling From their easy position and followed Dixon out of the room I can't leave her, I must write to them at Oxford to see that the preparations are made They can be getting on with these till I arrive Can't Mrs. Lennox come to her? I'll write and tell her she must Have some woman friend about her, if only to talk her into a good fit of crying Dixon was crying, enough for two But after wiping her eyes and steadying her voice She managed to tell Mr. Bell that Mrs. Lennox was too near her confinement To be able to undertake any journey at present Well, I suppose we must have Mrs. Shaw She's come back to England, isn't she? Yes sir, she's come back But I don't think she would like to leave Mrs. Lennox at such an interesting time Said Dixon, who did not much approve of a stranger entering the household To share with her in her ruling care of Margaret Interesting time be... Mr. Bell restricted himself to coughing over the end of his sentence She could be content to be at Venice or Naples Or some of those popish places at the last interesting time She's in Corfu I think And what does that little prosperous woman's interesting time signify In comparison with that poor creature there That helpless, homeless, friendless Margaret Lying as still on that sofa as if it were an altar tomb And she the stone statue on it I tell you, Mrs. Shaw shall come See that a room or whatever she wants Is got ready for her by tomorrow night She'll take care she comes Accordingly Mr. Bell wrote a letter Which Mrs. Shaw declared with many tears To be so like one of the dear generals When he was going to have a fit of the gout That she should always value and preserve it If he had given her the option By requesting or urging her as if a refusal were possible She might not have come True and sincere as was her sympathy with Margaret It needed the sharp, uncurtious command To make her conquer her vice-inertiae And allow herself to be packed by her maid After the latter had completed the boxes Edith, all cap, shawls and tears Came out to the top of the stairs As Captain Lennox was taking her mother down to the carriage Don't forget, Mama Margaret must come and live with us Sholto will go to Oxford on Wednesday Send word by Mr. Bell to him when we're to expect you And if you want Sholto He can go on from Oxford to Milton Don't forget, Mama You are to bring back Margaret Edith re-entered the drawing room Mr. Henry Lennox was there Cutting open the pages of a new review Without lifting his head he said If you don't like Sholto to be so long absent from you, Edith I hope you will let me go down to Milton And give what assistance I can Oh, thank you, said Edith I dare say, oh, Mr. Bell will do everything he can And more help may not be needed Only one does not look for much Savoir Fair From a resident fellow Dear darling Margaret Won't it be nice to have her here again? You were both great allies years ago Were we? asked he indifferently With an appearance of being interested in a passage in the review Well, perhaps not, I forget I was so full of Sholto But doesn't it fall out well That if my uncle was to die It should be just now when we are come home And settled in the old house And quite ready to receive Margaret Poor thing, what a changer will be To her from Milton I'll have new chins for her bedroom And look new and bright And cheer her up a little In the same spirit of kindness Mrs. Shaw journeyed to Milton Occasionally dreading the first meeting And wondering how it would be got over But more frequently planning how soon She could get Margaret away from that horrid place And back into the pleasant comforts of Harley Street Oh, dear, she said to her maid Look at those chimneys My poor sister Hale I don't think I could have rested at Naples If I had known what it was I must have come and fetched her and Margaret away And to herself she acknowledged That she had always thought her brother-in-law Rather a weak man But never so weak as now When she saw for what a place He had exchanged the lovely Halston home Margaret had remained in the same state Motionless, speechless, tearless They had told her that her aunt Shaw was coming But she had not expressed either surprise Or pleasure or dislike to the idea Mr. Bell, whose appetite had returned And who appreciated Dixon's endeavours to gratify it In vain urged upon her to taste some sweet bread Stewed with oysters She shook her head with the same quiet obstinacy As on the previous day And he was obliged to console himself For her rejection by eating them all himself But Margaret was the first to hear The stopping of the cab That brought her aunt from the railway station Her eyelids quivered Her lips coloured and trembled Mr. Bell went down to meet Mrs. Shaw And when they came up Margaret was standing, trying to steady her dizzy self And when she saw her aunt She went forward to the arms open to receive her And first found the passionate relief of tears On her aunt's shoulder All thoughts of quiet, habitual love Of tenderness for years Of relationship to the dead All that inexplicable likeness in look, tone and gesture That seemed to belong to one family And which reminded Margaret so forcibly At this moment of her mother Came in to melt and soften her numbed heart Into the overflow of warm tears Mr. Bell stole out of the room And went down into the study where he ordered a fire And tried to divert his thoughts By taking down and examining the different books Each volume brought a remembrance Or a suggestion of his dead friend It might be a change of employment From his two days' work of watching Margaret But it was no change of thought He was glad to catch the sound of Mr. Thornton's voice Making inquiry at the door Dixon was rather cavalierly dismissing him For with the appearance of Mrs. Shaw's maid Came visions of former grandeur Of the Beresford blood The vision, so she was pleased to term it From which her young lady had been ousted And to which she was now, please God, to be restored These visions, which she had been dwelling on With complacency in her conversation With Mrs. Shaw's maid Skillfully eliciting, meanwhile, all the Circumstances of state and consequence Connected with the Harley Street establishment For the edification of the listening Martha Made Dixon rather inclined to be Cousilius in her treatment of any inhabitant Of Milton So, though she always stood Rather in awe of Mr. Thornton She was as curt as she does to be In telling him that he could see None of the inmates of the house that night It was rather uncomfortable to be contradicted In her statement by Mr. Bell's opening The study door and calling out Thornton, is that you? Come in for a minute or two I want to speak to you So Mr. Thornton went into the study And Dixon had to retreat into the kitchen And reinstate herself in her own esteem By a prodigious story of Sir John Beresford's coach in sixth When he was high sheriff I don't know what I wanted to say to you after all Only it's dull enough to sit in a room Where everything speaks to you of a dead friend Yet Margaret and her aunt Must have the drawing room to themselves Is Mrs. Is her aunt come? Asked Mr. Thornton Come? Yes, maid and all One would have thought she might have come by herself At such a time And now I shall have to turn out And find my way to the Clarendon You must not go to the Clarendon We have five or six empty bedrooms at home Well, Ed I think you may trust my mother for that Then I'll only run upstairs And wish that one girl good night And make my bow to her aunt And go off with you straight Mr. Bell wasn't some time upstairs Mr. Thornton began to think it long For he was full of business And had hardly been able to spare the time For running up to Crampton And inquiring how Miss Hale was When they had set out upon their walk Mr. Bell said I was kept by those women in the drawing room Mrs. Shaw is anxious to get home On account of her daughter, she says And wants Margaret to go off with her at once Now, she is no more fit for travelling Than I am for flying Besides, she says, and very justly That she has friends she must see That she must wish for by to several people And then her aunt worried her about old claims And was she forgetful of old friends And she said, with a great burst of crying She should be glad enough to go from a place Where she had suffered so much Now I must return to Oxford tomorrow And I don't know on which side of the scale To throw in my voice He paused as if asking a question But he received no answer from his companion The echo of whose thoughts kept repeating Where she had suffered so much Alas, and that was the way In which this 18 months in Milton To him so unspeakably precious Down to its very bitterness Which was worth all the rest of life's sweetness Would be remembered Neither loss of father nor loss of mother Dearest she was to Mr. Thornton Could have poisoned the remembrance Of the weeks, the days, the hours When a walk of two miles Every step of which was pleasant As it brought him nearer and nearer to her Took him to her sweet presence Every step of which was rich As each recurring moment that bore him away from her Made him recall some fresh grace in her demeanour Or pleasant pungency in her character Yes, whatever had happened to him External to his relation to her He could never have spoken of that time When he could have seen her every day When he had her within his grasp as it were As a time of suffering It had been a royal time of luxury to him With all its stings and contumeless Compared to the poverty that crept round And clipped the anticipation of the future Down to sordid fact and life without An atmosphere of either hope or fear Mrs. Thornton and Fanny were in the dining room The latter in a flutter of small exultation As the maid held up one glossy material After another to try the effect of the wedding dresses By candlelight Her mother really tried to sympathise with her But could not Neither taste nor dress were in her line of subjects And she heartily wished that Fanny had accepted Her brother's offer of having the wedding clothes Provided by some first rate London dressmaker Without the endless troublesome discussions And unsettled wavering that arose Out of Fanny's desire to choose And super intend everything herself Mr. Thornton was only too glad To mark his grateful approbation of any sensible man Who could be captivated by Fanny's second rate Eres and graces By giving her ample means for providing herself With the finery which certainly rivaled If it did not exceed the lover in her estimation When her brother and Mr. Bell came in Fanny blushed and simpered And fluttered over the signs of her employment In a way which could not have failed to draw attention From anyone else but Mr. Bell If he thought about her And her silks and sattings at all It was to compare her and them With the pale sorrow he had left behind him Sitting motionless with bent head and folded hands In a room where the stillness was so great That you might almost fancy the rush When your straining ears was occasioned By the spirits of the dead Yet hovering round their beloved Four, when Mr. Bell had first gone upstairs Mrs. Shore lay asleep on the sofa And no sound broke the silence Mrs. Thornton gave Mr. Bell Her formal, hospitable welcome She was never so gracious As when receiving her son's friends In her son's house And the more unexpected they were The more honour to her admirable Housekeeping preparations for comfort How is Miss Hale, she asked About as broken down by this last stroke As she can be I am sure it is very well for her That she has such a friend as you I wish I were her only friend, madam I dare say it sounds very brutal But here have I been displaced By my post of comforter and adviser By a fine lady aunt And there are cousins and what not Claiming her in London As if she were a lapdog belonging to them And she is too weak and miserable To have a will of her own She must indeed be weak, said Mrs. Thornton With an implied meaning which her son Understood well But where, continued Mrs. Thornton Have these relations been all this time That Miss Hale has appeared almost friendless And has certainly had a good deal of anxiety to bear But she did not feel interest enough In the answer to her question to wait for it She left the room to make her household arrangements They have been living abroad They have some kind of claim upon her I will do them that justice The aunt brought her up And she and the cousin have been like sisters The thing vexing me you see Is that I wanted to take her for a child of my own And I am jealous of these people Who don't seem to value the privilege of their right Now it would be different if Frederick claimed her Frederick exclaimed Mr. Thornton Who is he? What right? He stopped short in his vehement question Frederick said Mr. Bell in surprise Why? Don't you know? He's her brother. Have you not heard? I never heard his name before Where is he? Who is he? Surely I told you about him When the family first came to Milton The son who was concerned in that mutiny I never heard of him till this moment Where does he live? In Spain He's liable to be arrested the moment he sets foot on English ground Poor fellow He will grieve at not being able to attend his father's funeral We must be content with Captain Lennox For I don't know of any other relation to summon I hope I may be allowed to go Certainly, thankfully You're a good fellow after all, Thornton Hale liked you He spoke to me only the other day about you at Oxford He regretted he had seen so little of you lately I am obliged to you for wishing to show him respect But about Frederick, does he never come to England? Never He was not over here about the time of Mrs Hale's death No? Why I was here then I hadn't seen Hale for years and years And if you remember I came No, it was some time after that that I came But poor Frederick Hale was not there then What made you think that he was? I saw a young man walking with Miss Hale one day Replied Mr Thornton And I think it was about that time Oh, that would be this young Lennox, the captain's brother He's a lawyer And they were in pretty constant correspondence with him And I remember Mr Hale told me he thought he would come down Do you know, said Mr Bell Wheeling round and shutting one eye The better to bring the forces of the other To bear with keen scrutiny on Mr Thornton's face That I once fancied you had a little tenderness for Margaret No answer No change of countenance And so did poor Hale Not at first and not till I had put it into his head I admired Miss Hale Everyone must do so She is a beautiful creature Said Mr Thornton Driven to bay by Mr Bell's pertinacious questioning Is that all? You can speak of her in that measured way As simply a beautiful creature Only something to catch the eye I did hope you had had nobleness enough in you To make you pay her the homage of the heart Though I believe in fact I know she would have rejected you Still to have loved her without return Would have lifted you higher than all those Be they who they may That have never known her to love Mr Thornton's eyes glowed like red embers Mr Bell said he Before you speak, sir You should remember that all men are not as free To express what they feel as you are Let us talk of something else For though his heart leaped up As at a trumpet call To every word that Mr Bell had said And though he knew that what he had said Would hence forward bind the thought Of the old Oxford fellow Closely up with the most precious things of his art Yet he would not be forced Into any expression of what he felt towards Margaret He was no mockingbird of praise To try because another extolled what he reverenced And passionately loved to outdo him in rodation So he turned to some of the dry matters of business That lay between Mr Bell and him As landlord and tenant What is that heap of brick and mortar We came against in the yard Any repairs wanted? No, none, thank you Are you building on your own account? If you are, I'm very much obliged to you I'm building a dining room For the men I mean, the hands I thought you were hard to please If this room wasn't good enough to satisfy you A bachelor I got acquainted with a strange kind of chap And I put one or two children in whom he is interested to school So as I happened to be passing near his house one day I just went there about some trifling payment to be made And I saw such a miserable brack frizzle of a dinner A greasy cinder of meat As first set me a thinking But it was not till provisions grew so high this winter That I bethought me how by buying things wholesale And cooking a good quantity of provisions together Much money might be saved and much comfort gained So I spoke to my friend, or my enemy The man I told you of And he found fault with every detail of my plan And in consequence I laid it aside Both as impracticable And also because if I forced it into operation I should be interfering with the independence of my men When suddenly this Higgins came to me And graciously signified his approval of a scheme So nearly the same as mine that I might fairly have claimed it And moreover the approval of several of his fellow workmen To whom he had spoken I was a little riled I confessed by his manner And thought of throwing the whole thing overboard To sink or swim But it seemed childish to relinquish a plan Which I had once sought wise and well laid Just because I myself did not receive all the honour And consequence due to the originator So I coolly took the part assigned to me Which is something like that of Stuart to a club I buy in the provisions wholesale And provide a fitting matron or cook I hope you give satisfaction in your new capacity Are you a good judge of potatoes and onions? But I suppose Mrs. Thornton assists you in your marketing Not a bit, replied Mr. Thornton She disapproves of the whole plan And now we never mention it to each other But I manage pretty well Getting in great stocks from Liverpool And being served in butcher's meat by our own family butcher I can assure you the hot then as the matron turns out And by no means to be despised Do you taste each dish as it goes in In virtue of your office? I hope you have a white wand I was very scrupulous at first In confining myself to the mere purchasing part And even in that I rather obeyed the men's orders Conveyed through the housekeeper Than went by my own judgment At one time the beef was too large At another the mutton was not fat enough I think they saw how careful I was to leave them free And not to intrude my own ideas upon them So one day two or three of the men My friend Higgins among them Asked me if I would not come in and take a snack It was a very busy day But I saw that the men would be hurt if after making the advance I didn't meet them half way So I went in and I never made a better dinner in my life I told them, my next neighbours I mean For I am no speech-maker how much I had enjoyed it And for some time whenever that special dinner Recurred in their dietary I was sure to be bet by these men With a master this hot pot for dinner today When you'll come If they had not asked me I would no more have intruded on them Than I'd have gone to the mess of the barracks without invitation I should think you were rather a restraint on your host's conversation They can't abuse the masters while you're there I suspect they take it out on non-hot pot days Well, either two we steer clear of all Vex questions But if any of the old disputes came up again I'll certainly speak out my mind next hot pot day But you are hardly acquainted with our Darkshire fellows For all you're a Darkshire man yourself They have such a sense of humour And such a racy mode of expression I am getting really to know some of them now And they talk pretty freely before me Nothing like the act of eating for equalising men Dying is nothing to it The philosopher dies intentionally The Pharisee ostentatiously The simple-hearted humbly The poor idiot blindly as the sparrow falls to the ground The philosopher and idiot, publican and Pharisee All eat after the same fashion Given an equally good digestion There's theory for theory for you Indeed, I have no theory I hate theories I beg your pardon To show my penitence, will you accept a ten-pound note towards your marketing And give the poor fellows a feast? Thank you, but I'd rather not They pay me rent for the oven and cooking places at the back of the mill And will have to pay more for the new dining room I don't want it to fall into a charity I don't want donations Once let in the principle And I should have people going and talking And spoiling the simplicity of the whole thing Talk about any new plan You can't help that My enemies, if I have any May make a philanthropic fuss about this dinner scheme But you are a friend And I expect you will pay my experiment the respect of silence It is but a new broom at present And sweeps clean enough But by and by we shall meet with plenty of stumbling blocks, no doubt End of Chapter 42 Alone, alone Chapter 43 North and South This is a library box recording All library box recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit librarybox.org Recording by Linnéa, Salzburg North and South by Elisabeth Gerske Chapter 43, markets flitting The meanest thing to which we bid adieu Loses its meanest in the parting hour Iliot Mrs. York took as we met her dislike it was possible for one of her gentle nature to do against Milton It was noisy and smoky And the poor people whom she saw in the streets were dirty And the rich ladies overdressed And not a man that she saw, high or low, had his cloth made to fit him She was sure Margaret would never regain her lost strength while she stayed in Milton And she herself was afraid of one of her older tacks of the nerves Margaret must return with her, and that quickly This, if not the exact force of her words, was at any rate the spirit on what she urged on Margaret Till the latter, weak, wary and broken spirited, yielded a reluctant promise that As soon as Wednesday was over she would prepare to accompany her aunt back to town Living Dixon in charge of all the arrangements for paying bills Disposing of furniture and shutting up the house Before that Wednesday, that mournful Wednesday when Mr. Hale was to be interred Far away from either of the homes he had known in life And far away from the wife who lay lonely among strangers And this last was Margaret's great trouble For she thought that if she had not given way to that overwhelming stupor during the first sad days She could have arranged things otherwise Before that Wednesday, Margaret received a letter from Mr. Bell My dear Margaret, I did mean to have returned to Milton on Thursday But unluckily it turns out to be one of the rare occasions when we Plymouth Fellows are called upon to perform any kind of duty And I must not be absent from my post Captain Lennox and Mr. Thornton are here The former seems a smart, well-meaning man and has proposed to go over to Milton and assist you in any search for the will Of course there is none, or you would have found it by this time if you followed my directions Then the captain declares he must take you and his mother in law home And, in his wise present state, I don't see how you can expect him to remain any longer than Friday However, that diction of yours is trusty, and can hold her, or your own till I come I will put matters into the hands of my Milton attorney if there is no will For I doubt this smart captain is no great man of business Nevertheless, his mustaches are splendid There will have to be a sale, so select what things you wish preserved, or you can send a list afterwards Now two things more than I have done You know, or if you don't, your poor father did, that you are to have my money and goods when I die Not that I mean to die yet, but I name this last to explain what is coming This Lennoxet seems very fond of you now, and perhaps may continue to be, perhaps not So it is the best to start with a formal agreement, namely, that you are to pay them 250 pounds a year As long as you and they find it pleasant to live together This, of course, includes Dixon Mind you don't be coy old into paying any more for her Then you won't be thrown adrift if someday the captain wishes to have his house to himself But you can carry yourself and your 250 pounds off somewhere else If, indeed, I have not claimed you to come and keep house for me first Then as to dress, and Dixon, and personal expenses, and confectionery All young ladies eat confectionery till wisdom comes by age I shall consult some lady of my acquaintance, and see how much you will have from your father before fixing this Now, Margaret, have you flown out before you have read this far, and wondered what right the old man has to settle your affairs for you so cavalierly I make no doubt you have Yet the old man has a right, he had loved your father for five and thirty years He stood beside him on his wedding day, he closed his eyes in death Moreover, he's your godfather, and as he cannot do you much good spiritually Having a hidden consciousness of your superiority in such things He would feign do you the poor good of endowing you materially And the old man has not a known relation on earth Who is there to mourn for Adam Bell? And his whole heart is set and bent upon this one thing, and Margaret Hale is not the girl to say him nay Right by return, if only two lines to tell me your answer But no thanks Margaret took up a pen and scrawled with trembling hand Margaret Hale is not the girl to say him nay In her weak state she could not think of any other words, and yet she was vexed to use these She was so much fatigued even by this like exertion, that if she could have thought of another form of acceptance She could not have set up and write a syllable of it She was obliged to lie down again and try not to think My dearest child, has that letter vexed or troubled you? No, said Margaret Febly, I shall be better when tomorrow is over I feel sure, darling, you won't be better till I get you out of this horrid air How you can have borne it these two years I can't imagine Where could I go to? I could not leave papa and mama Well, don't distress yourself, my dear, I dare say it was all for the best Only I had no conception of how you were living Our butler's wives lives in a better house than this It is sometimes very pretty, in summer, you can't judge by what it is now I have been very happy here, and Margaret closed her eyes by way of stopping the conversation The house teamed with Comfort now compared to what it had done The evenings were chilly, and by Mrs. Shaw's directions, fires were lighted in every bedroom She petted Margaret in every possible way, and bought every delicacy or soft luxury In which she herself would have borrowed and thought Comfort But Margaret was indifferent to all these things Or, if they forced themselves upon her attention It was simply as cause for gratitude to her aunt, who was putting herself so much out of her way to think of her She was restless, though so weak All the day long she kept herself from thinking of the ceremony which was going on at Oxford By wandering from room to room, and languidly setting aside such articles as she wished to retain Dixon followed her by Mrs. Shaw's desire, ostensibly to receive instructions But with a private injunction to thuse her into repose as soon as might be These books Dixon I will keep, all the rest will you send to Mr. Bell They are of a kind that he will value for themselves as well as for Papa's sake This I should like you to take this to Mr. Thornton after I'm gone Stay, I will write a note with it And she sat down hastily as if afraid of thinking and wrote Dear sir, the accompanying book I am sure will be valued by you for the sake of my father To whom it belonged Yours sincerely, Margaret Hale She sat out again upon a travels through the house, turning over articles known to her from a childhood With a sort of a carousel reluctance to leave them, old-fashioned, worn and shabby as they might be But she hardly spoke again And Dixon's report to Mrs. Shaw was that she doubted whether Miss Hale heard a word of what she had said Though she talked the whole time in order to divert her attention The consequence of being on her feet all day was excessive bodily weariness in the evening And a better night's rest than she had had since she heard of Mr. Hale's death At breakfast time the next day she expressed her wish to go and bid one or two friends goodbye Mrs. Shaw objected I am sure, my dear, you can have no friends here with whom you are sufficiently intimate To justify you in calling upon them so soon, before you have been a church But today is my only day if Captain Lenox comes this afternoon And if we must, if I must really go tomorrow Oh yes, we shall go tomorrow And I am more and more convinced that this air is bad for you And makes you look so pale and ill Besides, Edith expects us And she may be waiting me And you cannot be left alone, my dear, at your age No, if you must pay these calls I will go with you Dixon can get us a coach, I suppose So Mrs. Shaw went to take care of Margaret And took her maid with her to take care of the shores and air cushions Margaret's face was too sad to lighten up into a smile at all this preparation For paying two visits that she had often made by herself at all hours of the day She was half afraid of owing that one place to which she was going was Nicholas Higgins All she could do was to hope her aunt would be indisposed to get out of the coach And walk up the court and let every breath of wind have a face slapped by wet cloth Hanging out to dry on ropes dredged from house to house There was a little battle in Mrs. Shaw's mind between ease and sense of imaginary propriety But the form again the day And with many an injunction to Margaret to be careful of herself And not to catch any fever Such as was always lurking in such places Her aunt permitted her to go where she had often been before Without taking any precaution or requiring any permission Nicholas was out Only Mary and one or two of the Boucher children at home Margaret was vexed with herself for not having time to visit better Mary had a very blunt intellect Although her feelings were warm and kind And the instant she understood what Margaret's purpose was in coming to see them She began to cry and sob with so little restraint That Margaret found it useless to say any of the thousand little things Which had suggested themselves to her as she was coming along in the coach She could only try to comfort her a little by suggesting the wrong chance of the meeting again At some possible time, in some possible place And beat her tell her father how much she wished If he could manage it That he should come to see her when he had done his work in the evening As she was leaving the place he stopped and looked round Then hesitated a little before she said I should like to have some little thing to remind me of Bessie Instantly Mary's generosity was keenly alive What could they give And on Margaret singling out a common little drinking cup Which she remembered as the one always standing by Bessie's side With drink for her feverish lips Mary said Oh, take some at better that only cost four pence That will do, thank you said Margaret And she went quickly away While delight caused by the pleasure of having something to give yet lingered on Mary's face Now to Mrs. Thornton's Thought she to herself It must be done But she looked rather rigid and pale at thought of it And had hard work to find the exact words in which to explain to her aunt Who Mrs. Thornton was And why she should go to beat her farewell They, for Mrs. Shaw alighted here Were shown into the drawing room In which the fire had only just been kindled Mrs. Shaw huddled herself up in her shawl and shivered What an icy room, she said They had to wait for some time before Mrs. Thornton entered There was some softening in her heart towards Margaret Now that she was going away out of her sight She remembered her spirit as shown at various times and places Even more than the patience with which she had endured long and wearing cares Her continence was blander than usual as she greeted her There was even a shade of tenderness in her manner As she noticed the white, tear-swollen face And the quiver in the voice which Margaret tried to make so steady Allow me to introduce my aunt, Mrs. Shaw I am going away from Milton tomorrow I don't know if you're aware of it But I wanted to see you once again, Mrs. Thornton To apologize for my manner the last time I saw you And to say that I am sure you meant kindly However much we may have misunderstood each other Mrs. Shaw looked extremely perplexed by what Margaret said Thanks for kindness and apologies for failure in good manners But Mrs. Thornton replied Miss Hale, I am glad you do me justice I did no more than I believed to be my duty in remonstrating with you as I did I have always decided to act the part of a friend to you I am glad you do me justice And, said Margaret, blushing excessively as you spoke Will you do me justice and believe that though I cannot I do not choose to give explanations of my conduct I have not acted in the unbecoming way you apprehended Margaret's voice was so soft and her eyes so pleading That Mrs. Thornton was for once affected by the charm of manners To which she had hid here to prove herself invulnerable Yes, I do believe you Let us say no more about it Where are you going to reside, Miss Hale? I understood from Mr. Bell that you were going to leave Milton You never liked Milton, you know, said Mrs. Thornton with a sort of grim smile But for all that you must not expect me to congratulate you on quitting it Where shall you live? With my aunt, replied Margaret, turning towards Mrs. Hale My niece will reside with me in Harley Street She's almost like a daughter to me, said Mrs. Hale, looking fondly at Margaret And I am glad to acknowledge my own obligation for any kindness that has been shown to her If you and your husband ever come to town My son and daughter, Captain and Mrs. Lennox will, I am sure, Join with me in wishing to do anything in our power to show you attention Mrs. Thornton thought in her own mind That Margaret had not taken much care to enlighten her aunt As to the relationship between the Mr. and Mrs. Thornton Towards whom the fine lady aunt was extending her soft patronage So she answered shortly My husband is dead Mr. Thornton is my son I never go to London So I am not likely to be able to avail myself of your polite offers At this instant Mr. Thornton entered the room He had only just returned from Oxford His morning suit spoke of the reason that had called him there John said his mother This lady is Mrs. Shaw Mrs. Hale's aunt I am sorry to say that Mrs. Hale's call is to wish us good-bye You are going then Said he in a low voice Yes, said Margaret, we leave tomorrow My son-in-law comes this evening to escort us Said Mrs. Shaw Mr. Thornton turned away He had not sat down And now he seemed to be examining something on the table Almost as if he had discovered an unopened letter Which had made him forget the present company He did not even seem to be aware when they got up to take leave He started forwards however To hand Mrs. Shaw down to the carriage As it drove up he and Margaret stood close together on the doorstep And it was impossible but that the recollection of the day of the riot should force itself into both their minds Into his it came associated with the speeches of the following day A passionate declaration that there was not a man in all that violent and desperate crowd For whom she did not care as much as for him And that the remembrance of her Thornton words His brow grew stern Though his heart beat thick with longing love No, said he I put it to the touch once and I lost it all Let her go with her stony heart and her beauty How set and terrible her look is now For all her loveliness of feature She's afraid I shall speak what will require some stern repression Let her go Beauty and heiress as she may be She will find it hard to meet with a truer heart than mine Let her go And there was no tone of regret or emotion of any kind in the voice With which he said goodbye And the offered hand was taken with a resolute coldness And dropped as carelessly as if it had been a dead and withered flower But none in his household saw Mr. Thornton again that day He was beastly engaged, or so he said Margaret's strength was so utterly exhausted by these visits That she had to submit too much watching and petting and sighing I told you so From her aunt Dixon said she was quite as bad as she had been on the first day she heard of her father's death And she and Mrs. Shaw consulted as to the desirableness of delaying the morrow's journey But when her aunt reluctantly proposed a few days delay to Margaret The latter withered her body as if in acute suffering and said Oh, let us go I cannot be patient here I shall not get well here I want to forget So the arrangements went on and Captain Lennox came And with him news of Edith and the little boy And Margaret found that the indifferent, careless conversation Of one who, however kind, was not too warm and anxious a sympathiser Did her good She rose up and by the time that she knew she might expect Higgins She was able to leave the room quietly and await in her own chamber The expected summons Aye, said he as she came in To think of the old gentleman dropping off as he did You might have knocked me down with a straw when they told me Mr. Hale, said I Him as was the parson Aye, said they Then, said I There's as good a man gone as ever lived on this earth Or let who will be tottered And I came to see you and tell you how grieved I were But them women in the kitchen wouldn't tell you I were there They said you were ill And bother me But you do not look like the same wench And you're going to be a grandlady up in London, aren't you Not a grandlady Said Margaret half smiling Well Thornton said Says he a day or two ago Higgins, have you seen Miss Hale? No, says I There's a pack of women who won't let me at her But I can be in my time if you so She and I know each other pretty well And who'll not go doubting that I'm main sorry for the old gentleman's death Just because I can't get at her and tell her so And says he You'll not have much time for to try and see her, my fine chap She's not for staying with us a day longer nor she can help She's got grand relations and they're carrying her off And we shan't see her no more Master, said I If I do not see her a whore who goes I strive to get up to London next wisdom-tide That I will I'll not be borg'd of saying her goodbye by any relation whatsoever But bless you, I knowed you come It were only for to humour the master I let on as if I thought you'd Maffin leave Milton without seeing me You're quite right, at Margaret You only do me justice And you'll not forget me, I'm sure If no one else in Milton remembers me, I'm certain you will And Papa too You know how good and how tender he was Look Higgins, here's his Bible I have kept it for you I can ill-spare it, but I know he would have liked you to have it I'm sure you would care for it And study what is in it for his sake You may say that If it were the Jews' own scribblings And you asked me to read in it for your sake And the old gentlemen's I'd do it What's this, Wench? I'm not going for to take a brass, so do not think it We've been great friends But the sound of money passing between us For the children, for pouches children said Margaret hurriedly They may need it You've no right to refuse it for them I would not give you a penny, she said, smiling Don't think there's any of it for you Well, Wench, I can't know but say bless you And bless you And amen End of Chapter 43 Margaret's Flitten For more information or to volunteer Please visit LibriVox.org North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell Chapter 44 Ease, not peace A dull rotation, never at a stay Yesterday's face, twin image of today Kelper Of what each one should be He sees the form and rule Until he reached to that His joy can near be full Ruckert It was very well for Margaret That the extreme quiet of the Harley Street House During Edith's recovery from her confinement Gave her the natural rest which she needed It gave her time to comprehend the sudden change Which had taken place in her circumstances Within the last two months She found herself at once an inmate Of a luxurious house where the bare knowledge Of the existence of every trouble or care Seemed scarcely to have penetrated The wills of the machinery of daily life were well oiled And went along with delicious smoothness Mrs. Shine Edith could hardly make enough of Margaret On her return to what they persisted In calling her home And she felt that it was almost ungrateful in her To have a secret feeling that the Hellston Vicarage Nay, even the poor little house at Milton With her anxious father and her invalid mother And all the small household cares of comparative poverty Composed her idea of home Edith wasn't patient to get well In order to fill Margaret's bedroom With all the soft comforts and pretty knickknacks With which her own abounded Mrs. Shaw and her maid Found plenty of occupation In restoring Margaret's wardrobe To a state of elegant variety Captain Lennox was easy, kind and gentlemanly Sat with his wife in her dressing room An hour or two every day Played with his little boy for another hour And lounged away the rest of his time at his club When he was not engaged out to dinner Just before Margaret had recovered From her necessity for quiet and repose Before she had begun to feel her life wanting and dull Edith came downstairs and resumed her usual part in the household And Margaret fell into the old habit of watching And admiring and ministering to her cousin She gladly took all charge of the semblances of duties Off Edith's hands, answered notes Reminded her of engagements And attended her when no gady was in prospect And she was consequently rather inclined to fancy herself ill But all the rest of the family were in the full business of the London season And Margaret was often left alone Then her thoughts went back to Milton With a strange sense of the contrast between the life there and here She was getting surfeted of the eventless ease No struggle or endeavor was required She was afraid lest she should even become sleepably deadened Into forgetfulness of anything beyond the life Which was lapping her round with luxury There might be toilers and moillers there in London But she never saw them The very servants lived in an underground world of their own Of which she knew neither the hopes nor the fears They only seemed to start into existence When some want or whim of their master and mistress needed them There was a strange unsatisfied vacuum in Margaret's heart and mode of life And once when she had dimly hinted this to Edith The latter, weary with dancing the night before Languidly stroked Margaret's cheek as she sat by her in the old attitude She, on a footstool by the sofa, were Edith lay Poor child, said Edith, it is a little sad for you to be left Night after night, just at this time when all the world is so gay But we shall be having our dinner parties soon As soon as Henry comes back from circuit And then there will be a little pleasant variety for you No wonder it has moped, poor darling Margaret did not feel as if the dinner parties would be a panacea But Edith peaked herself on her dinner parties So different, as she said, from the old Dowager dinners under Mama's regime And Mrs. Shaw herself seemed to take exactly the same kind of pleasure In the very different arrangements and circle of acquaintances Which were to Captain and Mrs. Lennox's tastes As she did in the more formal and ponderous entertainments Which she herself used to give Captain Lennox was always extremely kind and brotherly to Margaret She was really very fond of him Accepting when he was anxiously attentive to Edith's dress and appearance With a view to her beauty making a sufficient impression on the world Then all the late and busty and Margaret was roused And she could hardly keep herself from expressing her feelings The course of Margaret's day was this A quiet hour or two before a late breakfast An unpunctual meal lazily eaten by weary and half-awake people But yet at which, in all its dragged-out length She was expected to be present because directly afterwards Came a discussion of plans at which, although they none of them concerned her She was expected to give her sympathy if she could not assist with her advice An endless number of notes to write which Edith invariably left to her With many caressing compliments as to her eloquence du viet A little play was chelto as he returned from his morning's walk Besides the care of the children during the servant's dinner A drive or callers and some dinner or morning engagement for her aunt and cousins Which left Margaret free, it is true But rather wearied with the inactivity of the day Coming upon depressed spirits and delicate health She looked forward with longing, though unspoken interest To the homely object of Dixon's return from Milton Where until now the old servant had been busily engaged In winding up all the affairs of the Hale family It had appeared a sudden famine to her heart This entire sensation of any news respecting the people amongst whom she had lived so long It was true that Dixon in her business letters Quoted every now and then an opinion of Mr. Thornton's As to what she had better do about the furniture Or how to act in regard to the landlord of the Crampton Terrace House But it was only here and there that the name came in Or any Milton name indeed And Margaret was sitting one evening all alone in the Lennox's drawing room Not reading Dixon's letters which yet she held in her hand Thinking over them and recalling the days which had been And picturing the busy life out of which her own had been taken And never missed Wondering if all went on in that world just as if she and her father had never been Questioning within herself if no one in all the crowd missed her Not Higgins, she was not thinking of him When suddenly Mr. Bell was announced and Margaret hurried the letters into her workbasket And started up, blushing as if she had been doing some guilty thing Oh Mr. Bell, I never thought of seeing you But you give me a welcome, I hope, as well as that very pretty start of surprise Have you dined? How did you come? Let me order you some dinner If you're going to have any, otherwise you know There is no one who cares less for eating than I do Where are the others? Gone out to dinner, left you alone? Oh yes, and it is such a rest I was just thinking But will you run the risk of dinner? I don't know if there is anything in the house Why to tell you the truth I dined at my club Only they don't cook as well as they did So I thought if you were going to dine I might try and make out my dinner But never mind, never mind There are ten cooks in England to be trusted at impromptu dinners If their skill and their fires will stand it, their tempers won't You shall make me some tea, Margaret And now, what were you thinking of? You were going to tell me Whose letters were those, God-daughter, that you hid away so speededly Only Dixon's, replied Margaret, growing very red Phew! Is that all? Who do you think came up in the train with me? I don't know, said Margaret, resolved against making a guess You're what you call him, with the right name for a cousin-in-law's brother Mr. Henry Lennox asked Margaret Yes, replied Mr. Bell, you knew him formally, didn't you? What sort of person is he, Margaret? I liked him long ago, said Margaret, glancing down for a moment And then she looked straight up and went on in her natural manner You know we have been corresponding about Frederick since But I have not seen him for nearly three years, and he may be changed What did you think of him? I don't know He was so busy trying to find out who I was in the first instance And what I was in the second, that he never let out what he was Unless indeed that veiled curiosity of his as to what manner a man he had to talk to was not a good piece And a fair indication of his character Do you call him good-looking, Margaret? No, certainly not, do you? Not I, but I thought perhaps you might Is he a great deal here? I fancy he is when he's in town He has been on circuit now since I came But Mr. Bell, have you come from Oxford or from Milton? From Milton, don't you see I'm smoked-dried? Certainly, but I thought that it might be the effect of the antiquities of Oxford Come now, be a sensible woman In Oxford I could have managed all the landlords in the place and had my own way But half the trouble your Milton landlord has given me and defeated me after all He won't take the house off our hands till next June twelfth month Luckily Mr. Thornton found a tenant for it Why don't you ask after Mr. Thornton, Margaret? He has proved himself a very active friend of yours, I can tell you Taken more than half the trouble off my hands And how is he, how has Mrs. Thornton asked Margaret hurriedly and below her breath Though she tried to speak out I suppose they're well I've been staying at their house till I was driven out of it by the perpetual clack About that Thornton girl's marriage It was too much for Thornton himself, though she was his sister He used to go and sit in his own room perpetually He's getting past the age for caring for such things Either as principal or accessory I was surprised to find the old lady falling into the current And carried away by her daughter's enthusiasm for orange blossoms and lace I thought Mrs. Thornton had been made of sterner stuff She would put on any assumption of feeling to veil her daughter's weakness Said Margaret in a low voice Perhaps so, you've studied her, have you? She doesn't seem over fond of you, Margaret I know it, said Margaret Oh, here is tea at last, exclaimed she, as if relieved And with tea came Mr. Henry Lenox, who had walked up to Harley Street after a late dinner And had evidently expected to find his brother and sister-in-law at home Margaret suspected him of being as thankful as she was at the presence of a third party On this their first meeting since the memorable day of his offer And her refusal at Hellston She could hardly tell what to say at first And was thankful for all the tea-table occupations Which gave her an excuse for keeping silence And him an opportunity of recovering himself For to tell the truth He had rather forced himself up to Harley Street this evening With the view of getting over an awkward meeting Awkward even in the presence of Captain Lenox and Edith And doubly awkward now that he found her the only lady there And the person to whom he must naturally and perforce address a great part of his conversation She was the first to recover her self-possession She began to talk on the subject which came uppermost in her mind After the first flush of awkward shyness Mr. Lenox, I have been so much obliged to you for all you have done about Frederick I am only sorry it has been so unsuccessful Replied he with a quick glance towards Mr. Bell As if reconnoitering how much he might say before him Margaret, as if she read his thought, addressed herself to Mr. Bell Both including him in the conversation And implying that he was perfectly aware of the endeavours that had been made to clear Frederick That Horrocks, that very last witness of all, has proved as unavailing as all the others Mr. Lenox has discovered that he sailed for Australia only last August Only two months before Frederick was in England And gave us the names of Frederick in England You never told me that, exclaimed Mr. Bell, in surprise I thought you knew I never doubted you had been told Of course it was a great secret And perhaps I should not have named it now, said Margaret, a little dismayed I have never named it to either my brother or your cousin, said Mr. Lenox With a little professional dryness of implied reproach Never mind, Margaret, I am not living in a talking babbling world Yet among people who are trying to worm facts out of me You needn't look so frightened because you have let the cat out of the bag To a faithful old hermit like me I shall never name his having been in England I shall be out of temptation, for no one will ask me Stay, interrupting himself rather abruptly Was it at your mother's funeral? He was with Mama when she died, said Margaret softly To be sure, to be sure Why, someone asked me if he had not been over then And I denied it stoutly Not many weeks ago Who could it have been? Oh, I recollect But he did not say the name And although Margaret would have given much to know if her suspicions were right And it had been Mr. Thornton who had made the inquiry She could not ask the question of Mr. Bell Much as she longed to do so There was a pause for a moment or two Then Mr. Lenox said, addressing himself to Margaret I suppose as Mr. Bell is now acquainted with all the circumstances Attending your brother's unfortunate dilemma I cannot do better than inform him exactly how the research into the evidence We once hoped to produce in his favour stands at present So if he will do me the honour to breakfast with me tomorrow We will go over the names of these missing gentry I should like to hear all the particulars if I may Cannot you come here? I dare not ask you both to breakfast, though I am sure you would be welcome But let me know all I can about Frederick Even though there may be no hope at present I have an engagement at half past eleven But I will certainly come if you wish it, replied Mr. Lenox With a little afterthought of extreme willingness Which made Margaret shrink into herself And almost wished that she had not proposed her natural request Mr. Bell got up and looked around him for his hat Which had been removed to make room for tea Well, he said, I don't know what Mr. Lenox is inclined to do But I am disposed to be moving off homewards I've been a journey today and journeys begin to tell upon my sixty and odd years I believe I shall stay and see my brother and sister Said Mr. Lenox, making no movement of departure Margaret was seized with a shy, awkward dread of being left alone with him The scene on the little terrace in the Halston garden was so present to her That she could hardly help believing it was so with him Don't go yet, please, Mr. Bell, she said hastily I want you to see Edith, and I want Edith to know you, please, she said Laying a light but determined hand on his arm He looked at her and saw the confusion stirring in her countenance He sat down again as if her little touch had been possessed of resistless strength You see how she overpowers me, Mr. Lenox, said he And I hope you notice the happy choice of her expressions She wants me to see this cousin Edith, who I am told is a great beauty But she has the honesty to change her word when it comes to me Mrs. Lenox is to know me I suppose I'm not much to see, eh, Margaret? He joked to give her time to recover from the slight flutter which he had detected In her manner on his proposal to leave And she caught the tone and threw the ball back Mr. Lenox wondered how his brother, the captain Could have reported her as having lost all her good looks To be sure, in her quiet black dress she was a contrast to Edith Dancing in her white crate mourning and long floating golden hair All softness and glitter She dimpled and blushed most becomeingly when introduced to Mr. Bell Conscious that she had her reputation as a beauty to keep up And that it would not do to have a mordecai refusing to worship and admire Even in the shape of an old fellow of a college which nobody had ever heard of Mrs. Shaw and Captain Lenox, each in their separate way Gave Mr. Bell a kind and sincere welcome Winning him over to like them almost in spite of himself Especially when he saw how naturally Margaret took her place As sister and daughter of the house And that we were not at home to receive you, said Edith You too, Henry, though I don't know that we should have stayed at home for you And for Mr. Bell, for Margaret's Mr. Bell There is no knowing what sacrifices you would not have made Said her brother-in-law Even a dinner party and the delight of wearing this very becoming dress Edith did not know whether to frown or to smile But it did not suit Mr. Lenox to drive her to the first of these alternatives So he went on Will you show your readiness to make sacrifices tomorrow morning First by asking me to breakfast To meet Mr. Bell and secondly By being so kind as to order it at half-past nine Instead of ten o'clock I have some letters and papers that I want to show Ms. Hell and Mr. Bell I hope Mr. Bell will make our house his own during his stay in London, said Captain Lenox I am only so sorry we cannot offer him a bedroom Thank you, I am much obliged to you You would only think me a churl if you had, for I should decline it, I believe In spite of all the temptations of such agreeable company, said Mr. Bell Bowing all around And secretly congratulating himself on the neat turn he had given to his sentence Which, if put into plain language, would have been more to this effect I couldn't stand the restraints of such a proper behaved and civil-spoken set of people as these are It would be like meat without salt I'm thankful they haven't to bed And how well I rounded my sentence I am absolutely catching the trick of good manners His self-satisfaction lasted him till he was fairly out in the streets Walking side by side with Henry Lenox Here he suddenly remembered Margaret's little look of entreaty as she urged him to stay longer And he also recollected a few hints given him long ago by an acquaintance of Mr. Lenox's As to his admiration of Margaret It gave a new direction to his thoughts You have known Ms. Hell for a long time, I believe How do you think her looking? She strikes me as pale and ill I thought her looking remarkably well Perhaps not when I first came in, now I think of it But certainly when she grew animated she looked as well as ever I saw her do She has had a great deal to go through, said Mr. Bell Yes, I had been sorry to hear of all she has had to bear Not merely the common and universal sorrow arising from death But all the annoyance which her father's conduct must have caused her And then Her father's conduct, said Mr. Bell in an accent of surprise You must have heard some wrong statement He behaved in the most conscientious manner He showed more resolute strength than I should have ever given him credit for formally Perhaps I have been wrongly informed But I have been told by his successor in the living A clever, sensible man and a thoroughly active clergyman That there was no call upon Mr. Hell to do what he did Relinquish the living and throw himself and his family On the tender mercies of private teaching in a manufacturing town The bishop had offered him another living It is true, but if he had come to entertain certain doubts He could have remained where he was And so had no occasion to resign But the truth is these country clergymen live such isolated lives Isolated I mean from all intercourse with men of equal cultivation with themselves By whose minds they might regulate their own And discover when they are going either too fast or too slow That they are very apt to disturb themselves with imaginary doubts As to the articles of faith and throw up certain opportunities Of doing good for very uncertain fancies of their own I differ from you I do not think they were very apt to do as my poor friend Hale did Mr. Bell was inwardly chafing Perhaps I used too general an expression in saying very apt But certainly their lives are such as very often to produce Either inordinate self-sufficiency or a morbid state of conscience Replied Mr. Lennox with perfect coolness You don't meet with any self-sufficiency among the lawyers For instance, asked Mr. Bell, and seldom I imagine any cases of morbid conscience He was becoming more and more vexed And forgetting his lately caught trick of good manners Mr. Lennox saw now that he had annoyed his companion And as he had talked pretty much for the sake of saying something And so passing the time while their road lay together He was very indifferent as to the exact side he took upon the question And quietly came round by saying To be sure there is something fine in a man of Mr. Hale's age Leaving his home of twenty years and giving up all settled habits For an idea which was probably erroneous But that does not matter, an untangible thought One cannot help admiring him with a mixture of pity in one's admiration Something like what one feels for Don Quixote Such a gentleman as he was, too I shall never forget the refined and simple hospitality he showed to me That last day at Helston Only half-mullified and yet anxious In order to lull certain qualms of his own conscience To believe that Mr. Hale's conduct had a tinge of coyoteism in it Mr. Bell growled out, I, and you don't know, Milton Such a change from Helston It is years since I have been at Helston, but I'll answer for it It is standing there yet, every stick and every stone as it has done for the last century While Milton, I go there every four or five years, and I was born there Yet I do assure you I often lose my way, I, among the very piles of warehouses That are built upon my father's orchard Do we part here? Well, good night, sir. I suppose we shall meet in Harley Street tomorrow morning End of Chapter 44 Chapter 45 North and South This is the LibriVox Recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Milton Lass, Germany North and South, by Elizabeth Gaskell Chapter 45 Not All a Dream Where are the sounds that swam along the buoyant air when I was young? Last vibration now is over, and they who listen are no more Ah, let me close my eyes and dream W.S. Lander The idea of Helston had been suggested to Mr. Bell's waking mind By his conversation with Mr. Lanox And all night long it ran riot through his dreams He was again the tutor in the college, where he now held the rank of fellow It was again a long vacation, and he was staying with his newly married friend The proud husband and happy vicar of Helston Overbabbling brooks they took impossible leaps Which seemed to keep them whole days suspended in the air Time and space were not, though all other things seemed real Every event was measured by the emotions of the mind, not by its actual existence For existence it had none But the trees were gorgeous in their autumnal heaviness The warm odours of flower and herb came sweet upon the sense The young wife moved about her house with just that mixture of annoyance at her position As regarded wealth, with pride and a handsome and devoted husband Which Mr. Bell had noticed in real life a quarter of a century ago The dream was so alike life that when he awoke his present life seemed like a dream Where was he, in the close, handsomely furnished room of a London hotel Where were those who spoke to him, moved around him, touched him, not an instant ago Dead, buried, lost forevermore, as far as earths forevermore would extend He was an old man, so lately exultant in the false strength of manhood The utter loneliness of his life was insupportable to think about He got up hastily and tried to forget what nevermore might be In a hurry dressing for the breakfast in Harley Street He could not attend to all the lawyer's details which, as he saw, made Margaret's eyes dilate And her lips grow pale as one by one fade decreed Or so it seemed every morsel of evidence which would exonerate Frederick Should fall from beneath her feet and disappear Even Mr. Lenox's well-regulated professional voice took a softer, tenderer tone As he drew near to the extinction of the last hope It was not that Margaret had not been perfectly aware of the result before It was only that the details of each successive disappointment Came with such relentless minuteness to quench all hope that she at last fairly gave way to tears Mr. Lenox stopped reading I had better not go on, said he, in a concerned voice It was a foolish proposal of mine, Lieutenant Hale, and even this giving him the title of the service From which he had so harshly been expelled was soothing to Margaret Lieutenant Hale is happy now, more secure in fortune and future prospects That would ever have been in the Navy, and Hale's doubtless adopted his wise country as his own That is it, said Margaret It seems so selfish in me to regret it, trying to smile, and yet he is lost to me, and I am so lonely Mr. Lenox turned over his papers, and wished that he were as rich and prosperous as he believed he should be some day Mr. Bell blew his nose, but otherwise he also kept silence Margaret, in a minute or two, had apparently recovered her usual composure She thanked Mr. Lenox very courteously for his trouble All the more courteously and graciously, because she was conscious that, by her behaviour, he might have probably been led to imagine that he had given her needless pain Yet it was pain she would not have been without Mr. Bell came up to wish her good-bye Said he, as he fumbled with his clothes I'm going down to Halston tomorrow to look at the old place Would you like to come with me, or would it give you too much pain? Speak out, don't be afraid Oh, Mr. Bell, said she, and could say no more, but she took his old gouty hand and kissed it Come, come, that's enough, said he, reddening with awkwardness I suppose your own shore will trust you with me We go tomorrow morning, and we shall get there about two o'clock, I fancy We'll take a snack, and order dinner at the little inn The Lenox arms, it used to be, and go and get an appetite in the forest Can you stand it, Margaret? It will be a trial, I know, to both of us, but it will be a pleasure to me at least And there we'll dine, it will be but do venison, if we can get it at all And then I'll take my nap while you go out and see old friends I'll give you back safe and sound, barring Ray Ray accidents, and I'll ensure your life for a thousand pounds before starting Which may be some comfort to your relations, but otherwise I'll bring you back to Mrs. Shaw by lunchtime on Friday So if you say yes, I'll just go upstairs and propose it It's no use my trying to say how much I shall like it, said Margaret, through her tears Well, then prove your gratitude by keeping those fountains of yours dry for the next two days If you don't, I shall feel queer myself about the lacrimal ducts, and I don't like that I won't try a drop, said Margaret, winking her eyes to shake the tears of her eyelashes, and forcing a smile There's my good girl, then we'll go upstairs and settle it all Margaret was in a state of almost trembling eagerness, while Mr. Bell discussed his plan with her Aunt Shaw She was first startled, then doubtful and perplexed, and in the end yielding rather to the rough force of Mr. Bell's words than to her own conviction For to the last, whether it was right or wrong, proper or improper, she could not settle to her own satisfaction till Margaret saved her turn The happy fulfillment of the project gave her decision enough to say She was sure it had been a very kind thought of Mr. Bell's Just what she herself had been wishing for Margaret, as giving her the very change which she required after all the anxious time she had had End of Chapter 45