margaret could not help her looks; but the short curled upper lip, theround, massive up-turned chin, the manner of carrying her head, hermovements, full of a soft feminine defiance, always gāve strangers the

impression of haughtiness. she was tired now, and would rather hāveremained silent, and taken the rest her father had planned for her; but, ofcourse, she owed it to herself to be a gentlewoman, and to speakcourteously from time to time to this stranger; not over-brushed, norover-polished, it must be confessed, after his rough encounter withmilton streets and crowds. she wished that he would go, as he had oncespoken of doing, instead of sitting there, answering with curt sentencesall the remarks she made. she had taken off her shawl, and hung it overthe back of her chair. she sat facing him and facing the light; her fullbeauty met his eye; her round white flexile throat rising out of the full,yet lithe figure; her lips, moving so slightly as she spoke, not breakingthe cold serene look of her face with any variation from the one lovelyhaughty curve; her eyes, with their soft gloom, meeting his with quietmaiden freedom. he almost said to himself that he did not like her,before their conversation ended; he tried so to pensate himself forthe mortified feeling, that while he looked upon her with an admirationhe could not repress, she looked at him with proud indifference, takinghim, he thought, for what, in his irritation, he told himself he was--agreat rough fellow, with not a grace or a refinement about him. herquiet coldness of demeanour he interpreted into contemptuousness, andresented it in his heart to the pitch of almost inclining him to get up andgo away, and hāve nothing more to do with these hales, and theirsuperciliousness.

just as margaret had exhausted her last subject of conversation--and yetconversation that could hardly be called which consisted of so few andsuch short speeches--her father came in, and with his pleasantgentlemanly courteousness of apology, reinstated his name and familyin mr. thornton\"s good opinion.

mr. hale and his visitor had a good deal to say respecting their mutualfriend, mr. bell; and margaret, glad that her part of entertaining thevisitor was over, went to the window to try and make herself morefamiliar with the strange aspect of the street. she got so much absorbedin watching what was going on outside that she hardly heard her fatherwhen he spoke to her, and he had to repeat what he said:

\"margaret! the landlord will persist in admiring that hideous paper, and iam afraid we must let it remain.\"

\"oh dear! i am sorry!\" she replied, and began to turn over in her mindthe possibility of hiding part of it, at least, by some of her sketches, butgāve up the idea at last, as likely only to make bad worse. her father,meanwhile, with his kindly country hospitality, was pressing mr.

thornton to stay to luncheon with them. it would hāve been veryinconvenient to him to do so, yet he felt that he should hāve yielded, ifmargaret by word or look had seconded her father\"s invitation; he was

glad she did not, and yet he was irritated at her for not doing it. shegāve him a low, grāve bow when he left, and he felt more awkward andself-conscious in every limb than he had ever done in all his life before.

\"well, margaret, now to luncheon, as fast we can. hāve you ordered it?\"

\"no, papa; that man was here when i came home, and i hāve never hadan opportunity.\"

\"then we must take anything we can get. he must hāve been waiting along time, i\"m afraid.\"

\"it seemed exceedingly long to me. i was just at the last gasp when youcame in. he never went on with any subject, but gāve little, short,abrupt answers.\"

\"very much to the point though, i should think. he is a clearheadedfellow. he said (did you hear?) that crampton is on grāvelly soil, andby far the most healthy suburb in the neighbour hood of milton.\"

when they returned to heston, there was the day\"s account to be givento mrs. hale, who was full of questions which they answered in theintervals of tea-drinking.