'Dixon says it is a gift to light a fire; not an art to be
acquired.' 'Poeta nascitur, non fit,' murmured Mr. Hale; and Margaret was
glad to hear a quotation once more, however languidly given.
'Dear old Dixon! How we shall kiss each other!' said Frederick.
'She used to kiss me, and then look in my face to be sure I was
the right person, and then set to again! But, Margaret, what a
bungler you are! I never saw such a little awkward,
good-for-nothing pair of hands. Run away, and wash them, ready to
cut bread-and-butter for me, and leave the fire. I'll manage it.
Lighting fires is one of my natural accomplishments.' So Margaret went away; and returned; and passed in and out of the
room, in a glad restlessness that could not be satisfied with
sitting still. The more wants Frederick had, the better she was
pleased; and he understood all this by instinct. It was a joy
snatched in the house of mourning, and the zest of it was all the
more pungent, because they knew in the depths of their hearts
what irremediable sorrow awaited them.
In the middle, they heard Dixon's foot on the stairs. Mr. Hale
started from his languid posture in his great armchair, from
which he had been watching his children in a dreamy way, as if
they were acting some drama of happiness, which it was pretty to
look at, but which was distinct from reality, and in which he had
no part. He stood up, and faced the door, showing such a strange,
sudden anxiety to conceal Frederick from the sight of any person
entering, even though it were the faithful Dixon, that a shiver
came over Margaret's heart: it reminded her of the new fear in
their lives. She caught at Frederick's arm, and clutched it
tight, while a stern thought compressed her brows, and caused her
to set her teeth. And yet they knew it was only Dixon's measured
tread. They heard her walk the length of the passage, into the
kitchen. Margaret rose up.
I will go to her, and tell her. And I shall hear how mamma is.'
Mrs. Hale was awake. She rambled at first; but after they had
given her some tea she was refreshed, though not disposed to
talk. It was better that the night should pass over before she
was told of her son's arrival. Dr. Donaldson's appointed visit
would bring nervous excitement enough for the evening; and he
might tell them how to prepare her for seeing Frederick. He was
there, in the house; could be summoned at any moment.