impertinently discussing Mrs. Thornton's feelings;
but she also rose up against that lady's
manner of showing that she was offended.

Mrs. Thornton went on after a moment's
pause:

"Do you know anything of Milton, Miss
Hale? Have you seen any of our factories?
our magnificent warehouses?"

"No! " said Margaret. " I have not seen
anything of that description as yet."

Then she felt that, by concealing her
utter indifference to all such places, she
was hardly speaking with truth; so she
went on:

"I dare say, papa would have taken me before
now if I had cared. But I really do
not find much pleasure in going over manufactories."

"They are very curious places," said Mrs.
Hale; "but there is so much noise and dirt
always. I remember once going in a lilac
silk to see candles made, and my gown was
utterly ruined."

"Very probably," said Mrs. Thornton, in a
short displeased manner. " I merely thought,
that as strangers newly come to reside in a
town which has risen to eminence in the
country, from the character and progress of
its peculiar business, you might have cared to
visit some of the places where it is carried on;
places unique in the kingdom, I am informed.
If Miss Hale changes her mind and condescends
to be curious as to the manufactures
of Milton, I can only say I shall be glad
to procure her admission to print-works, or
reed-making, or the more simple operations
of spinning carried on in my son's mill.
Every improvement of machinery is, I believe,
to be seen there, in its highest perfection."

"I am so glad you don't like mills and
manufactories, and all those kind of things,"
said Fanny, in a half-whisper, as she rose to
accompany her mother, who was taking leave
of Mrs. Hale with rustling dignity.

"I think I should like to know all
about them, if I were you," replied Margaret
quietly.

"Fanny! " said her mother, as they drove
away, " we will be civil to these Hales; but
don't form one of your hasty friendships with
the daughter. She will do you no good, I see.
The mother looks very ill, and seems a nice,
quiet kind of person."

"I don't want to form any friendship with
Miss Hale, mamma," said Fanny, pouting.
"I thought I was doing my duty by talking
to her, and trying to amuse her."

"Well! at any rate. John must be satisfied
now."

CHAPTER THE THIRTEENTH.

MARGARET flew up stairs as soon as their visitors
were gone, and put on her bonnet and
shawl, to run and inquire how Betsy Higgins
was, and sit with her as long as "she could
before dinner. As she went along the crowded
narrow streets, she felt how much of interest
they had gained by the simple fact of her
having learnt to care for a dweller in them.

Mary Higgins, the slatternly younger
sister, had endeavoured as well as she could
to tidy up the house for the expected visit.
There had been rough-stoning done in the
middle of the floor, while the flags under the
chairs and table and round the walls retained
their dark unwashed appearance. Although
the day was hot, there burnt a large tire in
the grate, making the whole place feel like an
oven; Margaret did not understand that the
lavishness of coals was a sign of hospitable
welcome to her on Mary's part, and thought
that perhaps the oppressive heat was necessary
for Bessy. Bessy herself lay on a squab, or
short sofa, placed under the window. She
was very much more feeble than on the
previous day, and tired with raising herself
at every step to look out and see if
it was Margaret coming. And now that
Margaret was there, and had taken a chair
by her, Bessy lay back silent, and content to
look at Margaret's face, and touch her articles
of dress, with a childish admiration of their
fineness of texture.

" I never knew why folk in the Bible cared
for soft raiment afore. But it must be nice
to go dressed as yo' do. It's different fro'
common. Most fine folk tire my eyes out wi'
their colours; but some how yours rest me.
Where did ye get this frock ?"

"In London," said Margaret, much amused.

"London. Have yo' been in London?"

"Yes! I lived there for some years. But
my home was in a forest; in the country."

"Tell me about it," said Bessy. " I like
to hear speak of the country, and trees, and
such like things." She leant back, and shut
her eyes, and crossed her hands over her
breast, lying at perfect rest, as if to receive
all the ideas Margaret could suggest.

Margaret had never spoken of Helstone
since she left it, except just naming the place
incidentally. She saw it in dreams more
vivid than life, and as she fell away to slumber
at nights her memory wandered in all its
pleasant places. But her heart was opened to
this girl: " Oh, Bessy, I loved the home we
have left so dearly! I wish you could see it.
I cannot tell you half its beauty. There are
great trees standing all about it, with their
branches stretching long and level, and
making a deep shade of rest even at noonday.
And yet, though every leaf may seem
still, there is a continual rushing sound of
movement all around not close at hand.
Then sometimes the turf is as soft and
fine as velvet; and sometimes quite lush
with the perpetual moisture of a little, hidden,
tinkling brook near at hand. And then
in other parts there are billowy ferns—whole
stretches of tern; some in the green shadow;
some with long streaks of golden sunlight
lying on them—just like the sea."

"I have never seen the sea," murmured
Bessy. " But go on."