\"the meanest thing to which we bid adieu,loses its meanness in the parting hour.\"

elliott.

mrs. shaw took as vehement a dislike as it was possible for one of hergentle nature to do, against milton. it was noisy, and smoky, and thepoor people whom she saw in the streets were dirty, and the rich ladiesover-dressed, and not a man that she saw, high or low, had his clothesmade to fit him. she was sure margaret would never regain her loststrength while she stayed in milton; and she herself was afraid of one ofher old attacks of the nerves. margaret must return with her, and thatquickly. this, if not the exact force of her words, was at any rate thespirit of what she urged on margaret, till the latter, weak, weary, andbroken-spirited, yielded a reluctant promise that, as soon as wednesdaywas over she would prepare to acpany her aunt back to town,leāving dixon in charge of all the arrangements for paying bills,disposing of furniture, and shutting up the house. before thatwednesday--that mournful wednesday, when mr. hale was to beinterred, far away from either of the homes he had known in life, andfar away from the wife who lay lonely among strangers (and this lastwas margaret\"s great trouble, for she thought that if she had not given

way to that overwhelming stupor during the first sad days, she couldhāve arranged things otherwise)--before that wednesday, margaretreceived a letter from mr. bell.

\"my dear margaret:--i did mean to hāve returned to milton onthursday, but unluckily it turns out to be one of the rare occasionswhen we, plymouth fellows, are called upon to perform any kind ofduty, and i must not be absent from my post. captain lennox and mr.

thornton are here. the former seems a smart, well-meaning man; andhas proposed to go over to milton, and assist you in any search for thewill; of course there is none, or you would hāve found it by this time, ifyou followed my directions. then the captain declares he must takeyou and his mother-in-law home; and, in his wife\"s present state, i don\"tsee how you can expect him to remain away longer than friday.

however, that dixon of yours is trusty; and can hold her, or your own,till i e. i will put matters into the hands of my milton attorney ifthere is no will; for i doubt this smart captain is no great man ofbusiness. nevertheless, his moustachios are splendid. there will hāve tobe a sale, so select what things you wish reserved. or you can send alist afterwards. now two things more, and i hāve done. you know, or ifyou don\"t, your poor father did, that you are to hāve my money andgoods when i die. not that i mean to die yet; but i name this lust toexplain what is ing. these lennoxes seem very fond of you now;and perhaps may continue to be; perhaps not. so it is best to start with aformal agreement; namely, that you are to pay them two hundred andfifty pounds a year, as long as you and they find it pleasant to livetogether. (this, of course, includes dixon; mind you don\"t be cajoledinto paying any more for her.) then you won\"t be thrown adrift, if someday the captain wishes to hāve his house to himself, but you can carryyourself and your two hundred and fifty pounds off somewhere else; if,indeed, i hāve not claimed you to e and keep house for me first.

then as to dress, and dixon, and personal expenses, and confectionery(all young ladies eat confectionery till wisdom es by age), i shallconsult some lady of my acquaintance, and see how much you will hāvefrom your father before fixing this. now, margaret, hāve you flown outbefore you hāve read this far, and wondered what right the old man hasto settle your affairs for you so cāvalierly? i make no doubt you hāve.

yet the old man has a right. he has loved your father for five and thirtyyears; he stood beside him on his wedding-day; he closed his eyes indeath. moreover, he is your godfather; and as he cannot do you muchgood spiritually, hāving a hidden consciousness of your superiority insuch things, he would fain do you the poor good of endowing youmaterially. and the old man has not a known relation on earth; \"who isthere to mourn for adam bell?\" and his whole heart is set and bent

upon this one thing, and margaret hale is not the girl to say him nay.

write by return, if only two lines, to tell me your answer. but nothanks.\"

margaret took up a pen and scrawled with trembling hand, \"margarethale is not the girl to say him nay.\" in her weak state she could not thinkof any other words, and yet she was vexed to use these. but she was somuch fatigued even by this slight exertion, that if she could hāvethought of another form of acceptance, she could not hāve sate up towrite a syllable of it. she was obliged to lie down again, and try not tothink.