North and South
Page 213She stood by her father, holding on to the back of his chair.
'You will go to bed soon, papa, won't you? Don't sit up alone!' What his answer was she did not hear; the words were lost in the
far smaller point of sound that magnified itself to her fears,
and filled her brain. There was a low ring at the door-bell.
She kissed her father and glided down stairs, with a rapidity of
motion of which no one would have thought her capable, who had
seen her the minute before. She put aside Dixon.
'Don't come; I will open the door. I know it is him--I can--I
must manage it all myself.' 'As you please, miss!' said Dixon testily; but in a moment
afterwards, she added, 'But you're not fit for it. You are more
aglow with strange fire, her cheeks flushed, though her lips were
baked and livid still.
She opened the door to the Inspector, and preceded him into the
study. She placed the candle on the table, and snuffed it
carefully, before she turned round and faced him.
'You are late!' said she. 'Well?' She held her breath for the
answer.
'I'm sorry to have given any unnecessary trouble, ma'am; for,
after all, they've given up all thoughts of holding an inquest. I
have been here before now.' 'Then it is ended,' said Margaret. 'There is to be no further
enquiry.' 'I believe I've got Mr. Thornton's note about me,' said the
Inspector, fumbling in his pocket-book.
'Mr. Thornton's!' said Margaret.
'Yes! he's a magistrate--ah! here it is.' She could not see to
read it--no, not although she was close to the candle. The words
swam before her. But she held it in her hand, and looked at it as
if she were intently studying it.
'I'm sure, ma'am, it's a great weight off my mind; for the
blow at all,--and if any question of identity came in, it so
complicated the case, as I told Mr. Thornton--' 'Mr. Thornton!' said Margaret, again.
'I met him this morning, just as he was coming out of this house,
and, as he's an old friend of mine, besides being the magistrate
who saw Leonards last night, I made bold to tell him of my
difficulty.' Margaret sighed deeply. She did not want to hear any more; she
was afraid alike of what she had heard, and of what she might
hear. She wished that the man would go. She forced herself to
speak.