'My son was engaged up to the last moment on business. He will be
here directly, Mr. Hale. May I beg you to take a seat?' Mr. Hale was standing at one of the windows as Mrs. Thornton
spoke. He turned away, saying, 'Don't you find such close neighbourhood to the mill rather
unpleasant at times?' She drew herself up: 'Never. I am not become so fine as to desire to forget the source
of my son's wealth and power. Besides, there is not such another
factory in Milton. One room alone is two hundred and twenty
square yards.' 'I meant that the smoke and the noise--the constant going out and
coming in of the work-people, might be annoying!' 'I agree with you, Mr. Hale!' said Fanny. 'There is a continual
smell of steam, and oily machinery--and the noise is perfectly
deafening.' 'I have heard noise that was called music far more deafening. The
engine-room is at the street-end of the factory; we hardly hear
it, except in summer weather, when all the windows are open; and
as for the continual murmur of the work-people, it disturbs me no
more than the humming of a hive of bees. If I think of it at all,
I connect it with my son, and feel how all belongs to him, and
that his is the head that directs it. Just now, there are no
sounds to come from the mill; the hands have been ungrateful
enough to turn out, as perhaps you have heard. But the very
business (of which I spoke, when you entered), had reference to
the steps he is going to take to make them learn their place.'
The expression on her face, always stern, deepened into dark
anger, as she said this. Nor did it clear away when Mr. Thornton
entered the room; for she saw, in an instant, the weight of care
and anxiety which he could not shake off, although his guests
received from him a greeting that appeared both cheerful and
cordial. He shook hands with Margaret. He knew it was the first
time their hands had met, though she was perfectly unconscious of
the fact. He inquired after Mrs. Hale, and heard Mr. Hale's
sanguine, hopeful account; and glancing at Margaret, to
understand how far she agreed with her father, he saw that no
dissenting shadow crossed her face. And as he looked with this
intention, he was struck anew with her great beauty. He had never
seen her in such dress before and yet now it appeared as if such
elegance of attire was so befitting her noble figure and lofty
serenity of countenance, that she ought to go always thus
apparelled. She was talking to Fanny; about what, he could not
hear; but he saw his sister's restless way of continually
arranging some part of her gown, her wandering eyes, now glancing
here, now there, but without any purpose in her observation; and
he contrasted them uneasily with the large soft eyes that looked
forth steadily at one object, as if from out their light beamed
some gentle influence of repose: the curving lines of the red
lips, just parted in the interest of listening to what her
companion said--the head a little bent forwards, so as to make a
long sweeping line from the summit, where the light caught on the
glossy raven hair, to the smooth ivory tip of the shoulder; the
round white arms, and taper hands, laid lightly across each
other, but perfectly motionless in their pretty attitude. Mr.
Thornton sighed as he took in all this with one of his sudden
comprehensive glances. And then he turned his back to the young
ladies, and threw himself, with an effort, but with all his heart
and soul, into a conversation with Mr. Hale.