The little fellow repeated a Methodist hymn, far above hiscomprehension in point of language, but of which the swinging rhythmhad caught his ear, and which he repeated with all the developedcadence of a member of parliament. When Margaret had dulyapplauded, Nicholas called for another, and yet another, much to hersurprise, as she found him thus oddly and unconsciously led to take aninterest in the sacred things which he had formerly scouted.
It was past the usual tea-time when she reached home; but she had thecomfort of feeling that no one had been kept waiting for her; and ofthinking her own thoughts while she rested, instead of anxiouslywatching another person to learn whether to be grave or gay. After teashe resolved to examine a large packet of letters, and pick out those thatwere to be destroyed.
Among them she came to four or five of Mr. Henry Lennox"s, relatingto Frederick"s affairs; and she carefully read them over again, with thesole intention, when she began, to ascertain exactly on how fine achance the justification of her brother hung. But when she had finishedthe last, and weighed the pros and cons, the little personal revelation ofcharacter contained in them forced itself on her notice. It was evidentenough, from the stiffness of the wording, that Mr. Lennox had neverforgotten his relation to her in any interest he might feel in the subjectof the correspondence. They were clever letters; Margaret saw that in atwinkling; but she missed out of them all hearty and genial atmosphere.
They were to be preserved, however, as valuable; so she laid themcarefully on one side. When this little piece of business was ended, shefell into a reverie; and the thought of her absent father ran strangely inMargaret"s head this night. She almost blamed herself for having felt hersolitude (and consequently his absence) as a relief; but these two dayshad set her up afresh, with new strength and brighter hope. Plans whichhad lately appeared to her in the guise of tasks, now appeared likepleasures. The morbid scales had fallen from her eyes, and she saw herposition and her work more truly. If only Mr. Thornton would restoreher the lost friendship,--nay, if he would only come from time to time tocheer her father as in former days,--though she should never see him,she felt as if the course of her future life, though not brilliant inprospect, might lie clear and even before her. She sighed as she rose upto go to bed. In spite of the "One step"s enough for me,"--in spite of theone plain duty of devotion to her father,--there lay at her heart ananxiety and a pang of sorrow.
And Mr. Hale thought of Margaret, that April evening, just as strangelyand as persistently as she was thinking of him. He had been fatigued bygoing about among his old friends and old familiar places. He had hadexaggerated ideas of the change which his altered opinions might makein his friends" reception of him; but although some of them might havefelt shocked or grieved or indignant at his falling off in the abstract, assoon as they saw the face of the man whom they had once loved, theyforgot his opinions in himself; or only remembered them enough to givean additional tender gravity to their manner. For Mr. Hale had not beenknown to many; he had belonged to one of the smaller colleges, and hadalways been shy and reserved; but those who in youth had cared topenetrate to the delicacy of thought and feeling that lay below hissilence and indecision, took him to their hearts, with something of theprotecting kindness which they would have shown to a woman. And therenewal of this kindliness, after the lapse of years, and an interval of somuch change, overpowered him more than any roughness or expressionof disapproval could have done.
"I"m afraid we"ve done too much," said Mr. Bell. "You"re suffering nowfrom having lived so long in that Milton air.
"I am tired," said Mr. Hale. "But it is not Milton air. I"m fifty-five yearsof age, and that little fact of itself accounts for any loss of strength."
"Nonsense! I"m upwards of sixty, and feel no loss of strength, eitherbodily or mental. Don"t let me hear you talking so. Fifty-five! why,you"re quite a young man."
Mr. Hale shook his head. "These last few years!" said he. But after aminute"s pause, he raised himself from his half recumbent position, inone of Mr. Bell"s luxurious easy-chairs, and said with a kind oftrembling earnestness:
"Bell! you"re not to think, that if I could have foreseen all that wouldcome of my change of opinion, and my resignation of my living--no!
not even if I could have known how she would have suffered,--that Iwould undo it--the act of open acknowledgment that I no longer heldthe same faith as the church in which I was a priest. As I think now,even if I could have foreseen that cruellest martyrdom of suffering,through the sufferings of one whom I loved, I would have done just thesame as far as that step of openly leaving the church went. I might havedone differently, and acted more wisely, in all that I subsequently didfor my family. But I don"t think God endued me with over-muchwisdom or strength," he added, falling hack into his old position.
Mr. Bell blew his nose ostentatiously before answering. Then he said:
"He gave you strength to do what your conscience told you was right;and I don"t see that we need any higher or holier strength than that; orwisdom either. I know I have not that much; and yet men set me downin their fool"s books as a wise man; an independent character; strong-minded, and all that cant. The veriest idiot who obeys his own simplelaw of right, if it be but in wiping his shoes on a door-mat, is wiser andstronger than I. But what gulls men are!"
There was a pause. Mr. Hale spoke first, in continuation of his thought:
"About Margaret."
"Well! about Margaret. What then?"
"If I die----"
"Nonsense!"
"What will become of her--I often think? I suppose the Lennoxes willask her to live with them. I try to think they will. Her aunt Shaw lovedher well in her own quiet way; but she forgets to love the absent."
"A very common fault. What sort of people are the Lennoxes?"
"He, handsome, fluent, and agreeable. Edith, a sweet little spoiledbeauty. Margaret loves her with all her heart, and Edith with as much ofher heart as she can spare."
