Mr. Bell took his leave the next day, bidding Margaret look to
him as one who had a right to help and protect her in all her
troubles, of whatever nature they might be. To Mr. Hale he
said,-'That Margaret of yours has gone deep into my heart. Take care of
her, for she is a very precious creature,--a great deal too good
for Milton,--only fit for Oxford, in fact. The town, I mean; not
the men. I can't match her yet. When I can, I shall bring my
young man to stand side by side with your young woman, just as
the genie in the Arabian Nights brought Prince Caralmazan to
match with the fairy's Princess Badoura.' 'I beg you'll do no such thing. Remember the misfortunes that
ensued; and besides, I can't spare Margaret.' 'No; on second thoughts, we'll have her to nurse us ten years
hence, when we shall be two cross old invalids. Seriously, Hale!
I wish you'd leave Milton; which is a most unsuitable place for
you, though it was my recommendation in the first instance. If
you would; I'd swallow my shadows of doubts, and take a college
living; and you and Margaret should come and live at the
parsonage--you to be a sort of lay curate, and take the unwashed
off my hands; and she to be our housekeeper--the village Lady
Bountiful--by day; and read us to sleep in the evenings. I could
be very happy in such a life. What do you think of it?' 'Never!' said Mr. Hale, decidedly. 'My one great change has been
made and my price of suffering paid. Here I stay out my life; and
here will I be buried, and lost in the crowd.' 'I don't give up my plan yet. Only I won't bait you with it any
more just now. Where's the Pearl? Come, Margaret, give me a
farewell kiss; and remember, my dear, where you may find a true
friend, as far as his capability goes. You are my child,
Margaret. Remember that, and 'God bless you!' So they fell back into the monotony of the quiet life they would
henceforth lead. There was no invalid to hope and fear about;
even the Higginses--so long a vivid interest--seemed to have
receded from any need of immediate thought. The Boucher children,
left motherless orphans, claimed what of Margaret's care she
could bestow; and she went pretty often to see Mary Higgins, who
had charge of them. The two families were living in one house:
the elder children were at humble schools, the younger ones were
tended, in Mary's absence at her work, by the kind neighbour
whose good sense had struck Margaret at the time of Boucher's
death. Of course she was paid for her trouble; and indeed, in all
his little plans and arrangements for these orphan children,
Nicholas showed a sober judgment, and regulated method of
thinking, which were at variance with his former more eccentric
jerks of action. He was so steady at his work, that Margaret did
not often see him during these winter months; but when she did,
she saw that he winced away from any reference to the father of
those children, whom he had so fully and heartily taken under his
care. He did not speak easily of Mr. Thornton.