'Yes! if any one had told me, when I was Miss Beresford, and one

of the belles of the county, that a child of mine would have to

stand half a day, in a little poky kitchen, working away like any

servant, that we might prepare properly for the reception of a

tradesman, and that this tradesman should be the only'--'Oh,

mamma!' said Margaret, lifting herself up, 'don't punish me so

for a careless speech. I don't mind ironing, or any kind of work,

for you and papa. I am myself a born and bred lady through it

all, even though it comes to scouring a floor, or washing dishes.

I am tired now, just for a little while; but in half an hour I

shall be ready to do the same over again. And as to Mr.

Thornton's being in trade, why he can't help that now, poor

fellow. I don't suppose his education would fit him for much

else.' Margaret lifted herself slowly up, and went to her own

room; for just now she could not bear much more.

In Mr. Thornton's house, at this very same time, a similar, yet

different, scene was going on. A large-boned lady, long past

middle age, sat at work in a grim handsomely-furnished

dining-room. Her features, like her frame, were strong and

massive, rather than heavy. Her face moved slowly from one

decided expression to another equally decided. There was no great

variety in her countenance; but those who looked at it once,

generally looked at it again; even the passers-by in the street,

half-turned their heads to gaze an instant longer at the firm,

severe, dignified woman, who never gave way in street-courtesy,

or paused in her straight-onward course to the clearly-defined

end which she proposed to herself. She was handsomely dressed in

stout black silk, of which not a thread was worn or discoloured.

She was mending a large long table-cloth of the finest texture,

holding it up against the light occasionally to discover thin

places, which required her delicate care. There was not a book

about in the room, with the exception of Matthew Henry's Bible

Commentaries, six volumes of which lay in the centre of the

massive side-board, flanked by a tea-urn on one side, and a lamp

on the other. In some remote apartment, there was exercise upon

the piano going on. Some one was practising up a morceau de

salon, playing it very rapidly; every third note, on an average,

being either indistinct, or wholly missed out, and the loud

chords at the end being half of them false, but not the less

satisfactory to the performer. Mrs. Thornton heard a step, like

her own in its decisive character, pass the dining-room door.




readonlinefreebook.com Copyright 2016 - 2024