"Well--I suppose we must."
FRIENDS IN COUNCIL.
Mr. Thornton had had some difficulty in working up his mother to thedesired point of civility. She did not often make calls; and when shedid, it was in heavy state that she went through her duties. Her son hadgiven her a carriage; but she refused to let him keep horses for it; theywere hired for the solemn occasions, when she paid morning or eveningvisits. She had had horses for three days, not a fortnight before, and hadcomfortably "killed off" all her acquaintances, who might now putthemselves to trouble and expense in their turn. Yet Crampton was toofar off for her to walk; and she had repeatedly questioned her son as towhether his wish that she should call on the Hales was strong enough tobear the expense of cab-hire. She would have been thankful if it hadnot; for, as she said, "she saw no use in making up friendships andintimacies with all the teachers and masters in Milton; why, he wouldbe wanting her to call on Fanny"s dancing-master"s wife, the next thing!"
"And so I would, mother, if Mr. Mason and his wife were friend less in astrange place, like the Hales."
"Oh! you need not speak so hastily. I am going to-morrow. I onlywanted you exactly to understand about it."
"If you are going to-morrow, I shall order horses."
"Nonsense, John. One would think you were made of money."
"Not quite, yet. But about the horses I"m determined. The last time youwere out in a cab, you came home with a headache from the jolting."
"I never complained of it, I"m sure."
"No. My mother is not given to complaints," said he, a little proudly. "Butso much the more I have to watch over you. Now as for Fanny there, alittle hardship would do her good."
"She is not made of the same stuff as you are, John. She could not bearit."
Mrs. Thornton was silent after this; for her last words bore relation to asubject which mortified her. She had an unconscious contempt for aweak character; and Fanny was weak in the very points in which hermother and brother were strong. Mrs. Thornton was not a woman muchgiven to reasoning; her quick judgment and firm resolution served herin good stead of any long arguments and discussions with herself; shefelt instinctively that nothing could strengthen Fanny to endurehardships patiently, or face difficulties bravely; and though she wincedas she made this acknowledgment to herself about her daughter, it onlygave her a kind of pitying tenderness of manner towards her; much ofthe same description of demeanour with which mothers are wont totreat their weak and sickly children. A stranger, a careless observermight have considered that Mrs. Thornton"s manner to her childrenbetokened far more love to Fanny than to John. But such a one wouldhave been deeply mistaken. The very daringness with which mother andson spoke out unpalatable truths, the one to the other, showed a relianceon the firm centre of each other"s souls, which the uneasy tenderness ofMrs. Thornton"s manner to her daughter, the shame with which shethought to hide the poverty of her child in all the grand qualities whichshe herself possessed unconsciously, and which she set so high a valueupon in others--this shame, I say, betrayed the want of a secure resting-place for her affection. She never called her son by any name but John;"love," and "dear," and such like terms, were reserved for Fanny. But herheart gave thanks for him day and night; and she walked proudly amongwomen for his sake.
"Fanny dear I shall have horses to the carriage to-day, to go and call onthese Hales. Should not you go and see nurse? It"s in the same direction,and she"s always so glad to see you. You could go on there while I amat Mrs. Hale"s."
"Oh! mamma, it"s such a long way, and I am so tired."
"With what?" asked Mrs. Thornton, her brow slightly contracting.
"I don"t know--the weather, I think. It is so relaxing. Couldn"t you bringnurse here, mamma? The carriage could fetch her, and she could spendthe rest of the day here, which I know she would like."
Mrs. Thornton did not speak; but she laid her work on the table, andseemed to think.
"It will be a long way for her to walk back at night!" she remarked, atlast.
"Oh, but I will send her home in a cab. I never thought of her walking."
At this point, Mr. Thornton came in, just before going to the mill.
"Mother! I need hardly say, that if there is any little thing that couldserve Mrs. Hale as an invalid, you will offer it, I"m sure."
"If I can find it out, I will. But I have never been ill myself, so I am notmuch up to invalids" fancies."
"Well! here is Fanny then, who is seldom without an ailment. She willbe able to suggest something, perhaps--won"t you, Fan?"
"I have not always an ailment," said Fanny, pettishly; "and I am not goingwith mamma. I have a headache to-day, and I shan"t go out."
Mr. Thornton looked annoyed. His mother"s eyes were bent on herwork, at which she was now stitching away busily.
"Fanny! I wish you to go," said he, authoritatively. "It will do you good,instead of harm. You will oblige me by going, without my sayinganything more about it."
He went abruptly out of the room after saying this.
If he had staid a minute longer, Fanny would have cried at his tone ofcommand, even when he used the words, "You will oblige me." As itwas, she grumbled.
"John always speaks as if I fancied I was ill, and I am sure I never dofancy any such thing. Who are these Hales that he makes such a fussabout?"
"Fanny, don"t speak so of your brother. He has good reasons of somekind or other, or he would not wish us to go. Make haste and put yourthings on."
But the little altercation between her son and her daughter did notincline Mrs. Thornton more favourably towards "these Hales." Herjealous heart repeated her daughter"s question, "Who are they, that he isso anxious we should pay them all this attention?" It came up like aburden to a song, long after Fanny had forgotten all about it in thepleasant excitement of seeing the effect of a new bonnet in the lookingglass.
