"For never any thing can be amissWhen simpleness and duty tender it."
MIDSUMMER NIGHT"S DREAM.
Mr. Thornton went straight and clear into all the interests of thefollowing day. There was a slight demand for finished goods; and as itaffected his branch of the trade, he took advantage of it, and drove hardbargains. He was sharp to the hour at the meeting of his brothermagistrates,--giving them the best assistance of his strong sense, and hispower of seeing consequences at a glance, and so coming to a rapiddecision. Older men, men of long standing in the town, men of fargreater wealth--realised and turned into land, while his was all floatingcapital, engaged in his trade--looked to him for prompt, ready wisdom.
He was the one deputed to see and arrange with the police--to lead in allthe requisite steps. And he cared for their unconscious deference nomore than for the soft west wind, that scarcely made the smoke from thegreat tall chimneys swerve in its straight upward course. He was notaware of the silent respect paid to him. If it had been otherwise, hewould have felt it as an obstacle in his progress to the object he had inview. As it was, he looked to the speedy accomplishment of that alone.
It was his mother"s greedy ears that sucked in, from the women-kind ofthese magistrates and wealthy men, how highly Mr. This or Mr. Thatthought of Mr. Thornton; that if he had not been there, things wouldhave gone on very differently,--very badly, indeed. He swept off hisbusiness right and left that day. It seemed as though his deepmortification of yesterday, and the stunned purposeless course of thehours afterwards, had cleared away all the mists from his intellect. Hefelt his power and revelled in it. He could almost defy his heart. If hehad known it, he could have sang the song of the miller who lived bythe river Dee:-"
I care for nobody-Nobodycares for me."
The evidence against Boucher, and other ringleaders of the riot, wastaken before him; that against the three others, for conspiracy, failed.
But he sternly charged the police to be on the watch; for the swift rightarm of the law should be in readiness to strike, as soon as they couldprove a fault. And then he left the hot reeking room in the boroughcourt, and went out into the fresher, but still sultry street. It seemed asthough he gave way all at once; he was so languid that he could notcontrol his thoughts; they would wander to her; they would bring backthe scene,--not of his repulse and rejection the day before but the looks,the actions of the day before that. He went along the crowded streetsmechanically, winding in and out among the people, but never seeingthem,--almost sick with longing for that one half-hour--that one briefspace of time when she clung to him, and her heart beat against his--tocome once again.
"Why, Mr. Thornton you"re cutting me very coolly, I must say. And howis Mrs. Thornton? Brave weather this! We doctors don"t like it, I can tellyou!"
"I beg your pardon, Dr. Donaldson. I really didn"t see you. My mother"squite well, thank you. It is a fine day, and good for the harvest, I hope.
If the wheat is well got in, we shall have a brisk trade next year,whatever you doctors have."
"Ay, ay. Each man for himself Your bad weather, and your bad times,are my good ones. When trade is bad, there"s more undermining ofhealth, and preparation for death, going on among you Milton men thanyou"re aware of."
"Not with me, Doctor. I"m made of iron. The news of the worst bad debtI ever had, never made my pulse vary. This strike, which affects memore than any one else in Milton,--more than Hamper,--never comesnear my appetite. You must go elsewhere for a patient, Doctor."
"By the way, you"ve recommended me a good patient, poor lady! Not togo on talking in this heartless way, I seriously believe that Mrs. Hale-thatlady in Crampton, you know--hasn"t many weeks to live. I neverhad any hope of cure, as I think I told you; but I"ve been seeing her today,and I think very badly of her."
Mr. Thornton was silent. The vaunted steadiness of pulse failed him foran instant.
"Can I do anything, Doctor?" he asked, in an altered voice. "You know-youwould see, that money is not very plentiful; are there any comfortsor dainties she ought to have?"
"No," replied the Doctor, shaking his head. "She craves for fruit,--she hasa constant fever on her; but jargonelle pears will do as well as anything,and there are quantities of them in the market."
"You will tell me, if there is anything I can do, I"m sure, replied Mr.
Thornton. "I rely upon you."
"Oh! never fear! I"ll not spare your purse,--I know it"s deep enough. Iwish you"d give me carte-blanche for all my patients, and all theirwants."
But Mr. Thornton had no general benevolence,--no universalphilanthropy; few even would have given him credit for strongaffections. But he went straight to the first fruit-shop in Milton, andchose out the bunch of purple grapes with the most delicate bloom uponthem,--the richest-coloured peaches,--the freshest vine-leaves. Theywere packed into a basket, and the shopman awaited the answer to hisinquiry, "Where shall we send them to, sir?"
There was no reply. "To Marlborough Mills, I suppose, sir?"
"No!" Mr. Thornton said. "Give the basket to me,--I"ll take it."
It took up both his hands to carry it; and he had to pass through thebusiest part of the town for feminine shopping. Many a young lady ofhis acquaintance turned to look after him, and thought it strange to seehim occupied just like a porter or an errand-boy.
He was thinking, "I will not be daunted from doing as I choose by thethought of her. I like to take this fruit to the poor mother, and it issimply right that I should. She shall never scorn me out of doing what Iplease. A pretty joke, indeed, if, for fear of a haughty girl, I failed indoing a kindness to a man I liked I do it for Mr. Hale; I do it in defianceof her."
