'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.




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