'Show not that manner, and these features all,

The serpent's cunning, and the sinner's fall?'

CRABBE.

The chill, shivery October morning came; not the October morning

of the country, with soft, silvery mists, clearing off before the

sunbeams that bring out all the gorgeous beauty of colouring, but

the October morning of Milton, whose silver mists were heavy

fogs, and where the sun could only show long dusky streets when

he did break through and shine. Margaret went languidly about,

assisting Dixon in her task of arranging the house. Her eyes were

continually blinded by tears, but she had no time to give way to

regular crying. The father and brother depended upon her; while

they were giving way to grief, she must be working, planning,

considering. Even the necessary arrangements for the funeral

seemed to devolve upon her.

When the fire was bright and crackling--when everything was ready

for breakfast, and the tea-kettle was singing away, Margaret gave

a last look round the room before going to summon Mr. Hale and

Frederick. She wanted everything to look as cheerful as possible;

and yet, when it did so, the contrast between it and her own

thoughts forced her into sudden weeping. She was kneeling by the

sofa, hiding her face in the cushions that no one might hear her

cry, when she was touched on the shoulder by Dixon.

'Come, Miss Hale--come, my dear! You must not give way, or where

shall we all be? There is not another person in the house fit to

give a direction of any kind, and there is so much to be done.

There's who's to manage the funeral; and who's to come to it; and

where it's to be; and all to be settled: and Master Frederick's

like one crazed with crying, and master never was a good one for

settling; and, poor gentleman, he goes about now as if he was

lost. It's bad enough, my dear, I know; but death comes to us

all; and you're well off never to have lost any friend till

now. 'Perhaps so. But this seemed a loss by itself; not to bear

comparison with any other event in the world. Margaret did not

take any comfort from what Dixon said, but the unusual tenderness

of the prim old servant's manner touched her to the heart; and,

more from a desire to show her gratitude for this than for any

other reason, she roused herself up, and smiled in answer to

Dixon's anxious look at her; and went to tell her father and

brother that breakfast was ready.

Mr. Hale came--as if in a dream, or rather with the unconscious

motion of a sleep-walker, whose eyes and mind perceive other

things than what are present. Frederick came briskly in, with a

forced cheerfulness, grasped her hand, looked into her eyes, and

burst into tears. She had to try and think of little nothings to

say all breakfast-time, in order to prevent the recurrence of her

companions' thoughts too strongly to the last meal they had taken

together, when there had been a continual strained listening for

some sound or signal from the sick-room.




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