eyes met Margaret's with a grave farewell, as he left the room. She sat down silent and pale.
"Do you know, Margaret, I really begin quite to like Mr. Thornton."
No answer at first. Then Margaret forced out an icy "Do you?"
"Yes! I think he is really getting quite polished in his manners."
Margaret's voice was more in order now. replied,
"He is very kind and attentive,—there is no doubt of that."
"I wonder Mrs. Thornton never calls. She must know I am ill, because of the water-bed."
"I dare say, she hears how you are from her son."
Still, I should like to see her. You have so few friends here, Margaret."
Margaret felt what was in her mother's thoughts,—a tender craving to bespeak the kindness of some woman towards the daughter that might be so soon left motherless. But she could not speak.
"Do you think," said Mrs. Hale, after a pause, "that you could go and ask Mrs. Thornton to come and see me? Only once,—I don't want to be trouble-some."
"I will do anything, if you wish it, mamma,—but if—but when Frederick comes"
"Ah, to be sure! we must keep our doors shut,— we must let no one in. I hardly know whether I dare wish him to come or not. Sometimes I think I would rather not. Sometimes I have such frightful dreams about him."
