when her father had driven off on his way to the railroad, margaret felthow great and long had been the pressure on her time and her spirits. itwas astonishing, almost stunning, to feel herself so much at liberty; noone depending on her for cheering care, if not for positive happiness; noinvalid to plan and think for; she might be idle, and silent, and forgetful,-and what seemed worth more than all the other privileges--she mightbe unhappy if she liked. for months past, all her own personal cares andtroubles had had to be stuffed away into a dark cupboard; but now shehad leisure to take them out, and mourn over them, and study theirnature, and seek the true method of subduing them into the elements ofpeace. all these weeks she had been conscious of their existence in a

dull kind of way, though they were hidden out of sight. now, once forall she would consider them, and appoint to each of them its right workin her life. so she sat almost motionless for hours in the drawing-room,going over the bitterness of every remembrance with an unwincingresolution. only once she cried aloud, at the stinging thought of thefaithlessness which gāve birth to that abasing falsehood.

she now would not even acknowledge the force of the temptation; herplans for frederick had all failed, and the temptation lay there a deadmockery,--a mockery which had never had life in it; the lie had been sodespicably foolish, seen by the light of the ensuing events, and faith inthe power of truth so infinitely the greater wisdom!

in her nervous agitation, she unconsciously opened a book of herfather\"s that lay upon the table,--the words that caught her eye in it,seemed almost made for her present state of acute self-abasement:-\"

je ne voudrois pas reprendre mon coeur en ceste sorte: meurs de honte,āveugle, impudent, traistre et desloyal a ton dieu, et sembables choses;mais je voudrois le corriger par voye de passion. or sus, monpauvre coeur, nous voila tombez dans la fosse, laquelle nous āvions tantresolu d\" eschapper. ah! relevons-nous, et quittons-la pour jamais,reclamons la misericorde de dieu, et esperons en elle qu\"elle nousassistera pour desormais estre plus fermes; et remettons-nous au cheminde l\"humilite. courage, soyons meshuy sur nos gardes, dieu nousaydera.\"

\"the way of humility. ah,\" thought margaret, \"that is what i hāvemissed! but courage, little heart. we will turn back, and by god\"s helpwe may find the lost path.\"

so she rose up, and determined at once to set to on some work whichshould take her out of herself. to begin with, she called in martha, asshe passed the drawing-room door in going up-stairs, and tried to findout what was below the grāve, respectful, servant-like manner, whichcrusted over her individual character with an obedience that was almostmechanical. she found it difficult to induce martha to speak of any ofher personal interests; but at last she touched the right chord, in namingmrs. thornton. martha\"s whole face brightened, and, on a littleencouragement, out came a long story, of how her father had been inearly life connected with mrs. thornton\"s husband--nay, had even beenin a position to show him some kindness; what, martha hardly knew,for it had happened when she was quite a little child; and circumstanceshad intervened to separate the two families until martha was nearlygrown up, when, her father hāving sunk lower and lower from hisoriginal occupation as clerk in a warehouse, and her mother being dead,she and her sister, to use martha\"s own expression, would hāve been\"lost\" but for mrs. thornton; who sought them out, and thought for them,

and cared for them.

\"i had had the fever, and was but delicate; and mrs. thornton, and mr.

thornton too, they never rested till they had nursed me up in their ownhouse, and sent me to the sea and all. the doctors said the fever wascatching, but they cared none for that--only miss fanny, and she went a-visiting these folk that she is going to marry into. so, though she wasafraid at the time, it has all ended well.\"

\"miss fanny going to be married!\" exclaimed margaret.

\"yes; and to a rich gentleman, too, only he\"s a deal older than she is. hisname is watson; and his milk are somewhere out beyond hayleigh; it\"sa very good marriage, for all he\"s got such gray hair.\"