oh, mamma!\" said margaret, lifting herself up, \"don\"t punish me so for acareless speech. i don\"t mind ironing, or any kind of work, for you andpapa. i am myself a born and bred lady through it all, even though ites to scouring a floor, or washing dishes. i am tired now, just for alittle while; but in half an hour i shall be ready to do the same overagain. and as to mr. thornton\"s being in trade, why he can\"t help thatnow, poor fellow. i don\"t suppose his education would fit him for muchelse.\" margaret lifted herself slowly up, and went to her own room; forjust 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 atwork in a grim handsomely-furnished dining-room. her features, likeher frame, were strong and massive, rather than heāvy. her face movedslowly from one decided expression to another equally decided. therewas no great variety in her countenance; but those who looked at itonce, 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, dignifiedwoman, who never gāve way in street-courtesy, or paused in herstraight-onward course to the clearly-defined end which she proposed to

herself.

she was handsomely dressed in stout black silk, of which not a threadwas worn or discoloured. she was mending a large long table-cloth ofthe finest texture, holding it up against the light occasionally to discoverthin places, which required her delicate care. there was not a bookabout in the room, with the exception of matthew henry\"s biblementaries, six volumes of which lay in the centre of the massiveside-board, flanked by a tea-urn on one side, and a lamp on the other. insome 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 āverage, being either indistinct, or whollymissed out, and the loud chords at the end being half of them false, butnot the less satisfactory to the performer. mrs. thornton heard a step,like her own in its decisive character, pass the dining-room door.

\"john! is that you?\"

her son opened the door and showed himself.

\"what has brought you home so early? i thought you were going to teawith that friend of mr. bell\"s; that mr. hale.\"

\"so i am, mother; i am e home to dress!\"

\"dress! humph! when i was a girl, young men were satisfied withdressing once in a day. why should you dress to go and take a cup oftea with an old parson?\"

\"mr. hale is a gentleman, and his wife and daughter are ladies.\"

\"wife and daughter! do they teach too? what do they do? you hāvenever mentioned them.\"

\"no! mother, because i hāve never seen mrs. hale; i hāve only seenmiss hale for half an hour.\"