"You forget, mamma! He is leaving the Church on account of hisopinions--his doubts would do him no good at Oxford."
Mrs. Hale was silent for some time, quietly crying. At last she said:-"
And the furniture--How in the world are we to manage the removal? Inever removed in my life, and only a fortnight to think about it!"
Margaret was inexpressibly relieved to find that her mother"s anxietyand distress was lowered to this point, so insignificant to herself, and onwhich she could do so much to help. She planned and promised, and ledher mother on to arrange fully as much as could be fixed before theyknew somewhat more definitively what Mr. Hale intended to do.
Throughout the day Margaret never left her mother; bending her wholesoul to sympathise in all the various turns her feelings took; towardsevening especially, as she became more and more anxious that herfather should find a soothing welcome home awaiting him, after hisreturn from his day of fatigue and distress. She dwelt upon what hemust have borne in secret for long; her mother only replied coldly thathe ought to have told her, and that then at any rate he would have hadan adviser to give him counsel; and Margaret turned faint at heart whenshe heard her father"s step in the hall. She dared not go to meet him, andtell him what she had done all day, for fear of her mother"s jealousannoyance. She heard him linger, as if awaiting her, or some sign ofher; and she dared not stir; she saw by her mother"s twitching lips, andchanging colour, that she too was aware that her husband had returned.
Presently he opened the room-door, and stood there uncertain whetherto come in. His face was gray and pale; he had a timid, fearful look inhis eyes; something almost pitiful to see in a man"s face; but that look ofdespondent uncertainty, of mental and bodily languor, touched hiswife"s heart. She went to him, and threw herself on his breast, crying out"Oh! Richard, Richard, you should have told me sooner!"
And then, in tears, Margaret left her, as she rushed up-stairs to throwherself on her bed, and hide her face in the pillows to stifle the hystericsobs that would force their way at last, after the rigid self-control of thewhole day.
How long she lay thus she could not tell. She heard no noise, though thehousemaid came in to arrange the room. The affrighted girl stole outagain on tip-toe, and went and told Mrs. Dixon that Miss Hale wascrying as if her heart would break: she was sure she would make herselfdeadly ill if she went on at that rate. In consequence of this, Margaretfelt herself touched, and started up into a sitting posture; she saw theaccustomed room, the figure of Dixon in shadow, as the latter stoodholding the candle a little behind her, for fear of the effect on MissHale"s startled eyes, swollen and blinded as they were.
"Oh, Dixon! I did not hear you come into the room!" said Margaret,resuming her trembling self-restraint. "Is it very late?" continued she,lifting herself languidly off the bed, yet letting her feet touch the groundwithout fairly standing down, as she shaded her wet ruffled hair off herface, and tried to look as though nothing were the matter; as if she hadonly been asleep.
"I hardly can tell what time it is," replied Dixon, in an aggrieved tone ofvoice. "Since your mamma told me this terrible news, when I dressedher for tea, I"ve lost all count of time. I"m sure I don"t know what is tobecome of us all. When Charlotte told me just now you were sobbing,Miss Hale, I thought, no wonder, poor thing! And master thinking ofturning Dissenter at his time of life, when, if it is not to be said he"sdone well in the Church, he"s not done badly after all. I had a cousin,miss, who turned Methodist preacher after he was fifty years of age, anda tailor all his life; but then he had never been able to make a pair oftrousers to fit, for as long as he had been in the trade, so it was nowonder; but for master! as I said to missus, "What would poor Sir Johnhave said? he never liked your marrying Mr. Hale, but if he could haveknown it would have come to this, he would have sworn worse oathsthan ever, if that was possible!""
Dixon had been so much accustomed to comment upon Mr. Hale"sproceedings to her mistress (who listened to her, or not, as she was inthe humour), that she never noticed Margaret"s flashing eye and dilatingnostril. To hear her father talked of in this way by a servant to her face!
"Dixon," she said, in the low tone she always used when much excited,which had a sound in it as of some distant turmoil, or threatening stormbreaking far away. "Dixon! you forget to whom you are speaking." Shestood upright and firm on her feet now, confronting the waiting-maid,and fixing her with her steady discerning eye. "I am Mr. Hale"s daughter.
Go! You have made a strange mistake, and one that I am sure your owngood feeling will make you sorry for when you think about it."
Dixon hung irresolutely about the room for a minute or two. Margaretrepeated, "You may leave me, Dixon. I wish you to go." Dixon did notknow whether to resent these decided words or to cry; either coursewould have done with her mistress: but, as she said to herself, "MissMargaret has a touch of the old gentleman about her, as well as poorMaster Frederick; I wonder where they get it from?" and she, whowould have resented such words from any one less haughty anddetermined in manner, was subdued enough to say, in a half humble,half injured tone:
"Mayn"t I unfasten your gown, miss, and do your hair?"
"No! not to-night, thank you." And Margaret gravely lighted her out ofthe room, and bolted the door. From henceforth Dixon obeyed andadmired Margaret. She said it was because she was so like poor MasterFrederick; but the truth was, that Dixon, as do many others, liked to feelherself ruled by a powerful and decided nature.
