were gone—and then felt sick and faint and trembling in every limb.
"There, that's enough," said her brother, rising from the table. "The reality was enough for me." He was going to leave the room, when his mother stopped him with her hand upon his arm.
"You will come back here before you go to the Hales'," said she, in a low, anxious voice.
"I know what I know," said Fanny to herself.
"Why? Will it be too late to disturb them?"
"John, come back to me for this one evening. It will be late for Mrs. Hale. But that is not it. To-morrow, you will Come back to night, John!" She had seldom pleaded with her son at all—she was too proud for that: but she had never pleaded in vain.
"I will return straight here after I have done my business. You will be sure to inquire after them?—after her?"
Mrs. Thornton was by no means a talkative companion to Fanny, nor yet a good listener while her son was absent. But on his return, were keen to see and to listen to all the details which he could give, as to the steps he had taken to secure himself, and those whom he chose to employ, from any repetition of the day's outrages. He clearly saw his object. Punishment and suffering, were the natural consequences to those who had taken part in the riot. All that was necessary, in order that property should be protected, and that the will of the proprietor might cut to his end, clean and sharp as a sword.
"Mother! You know what I have got to say to Miss Hale, to-morrow?"
