The tea would have been very silent, but for Fanny's perpetual
description of her own feelings; how she had been alarmed--and
then thought they were gone--and then felt sick and faint and
trembling in every limb.
'There, that's enough,' said her brother, rising from the table.
'The reality was enough for me.' He was going to leave the room,
when his mother stopped him with her hand upon his arm.
'You will come back here before you go to the Hales', said she,
in a low, anxious voice.
'I know what I know,' said Fanny to herself.
'Why? Will it be too late to disturb them?' 'John, come back to me for this one evening. It will be late for
Mrs. Hale. But that is not it. To-morrow, you will----Come back
to-night, John!' She had seldom pleaded with her son at all--she
was too proud for that: but she had never pleaded in vain.
'I will return straight here after I have done my business You
will be sure to inquire after them?--after her?' Mrs. Thornton was by no means a talkative companion to Fanny, nor
yet a good listener while her son was absent. But on his return,
her eyes and ears were keen to see and to listen to all the
details which he could give, as to the steps he had taken to
secure himself, and those whom he chose to employ, from any
repetition of the day's outrages. He clearly saw his object.
Punishment and suffering, were the natural consequences to those
who had taken part in the riot. All that was necessary, in order
that property should be protected, and that the will of the
proprietor might cut to his end, clean and sharp as a sword.
'Mother! You know what I have got to say to Miss Hale,
to-morrow?' The question came upon her suddenly, during a pause
in which she, at least, had forgotten Margaret.
She looked up at him.
'Yes! I do. You can hardly do otherwise.' 'Do otherwise! I don't understand you.' 'I mean that, after allowing her feelings so to overcome her, I
consider you bound in honour--' 'Bound in honour,' said he, scornfully. 'I'm afraid honour has
nothing to do with it. "Her feelings overcome her!" What feelings
do you mean?' 'Nay, John, there is no need to be angry. Did she not rush down,
and cling to you to save you from danger?' 'She did!' said he. 'But, mother,' continued he, stopping short
in his walk right in front of her, 'I dare not hope. I never was
fainthearted before; but I cannot believe such a creature cares
for me.' 'Don't be foolish, John. Such a creature! Why, she might be a
duke's daughter, to hear you speak. And what proof more would you
have, I wonder, of her caring for you? I can believe she has had
a struggle with her aristocratic way of viewing things; but I
like her the better for seeing clearly at last. It is a good deal
for me to say,' said Mrs. Thornton, smiling slowly, while the
tears stood in her eyes; 'for after to-night, I stand second. It
was to have you to myself, all to myself, a few hours longer,
that I begged you not to go till to-morrow!' 'Dearest mother!' (Still love is selfish, and in an instant he
reverted to his own hopes and fears in a way that drew the cold
creeping shadow over Mrs. Thornton's heart.) 'But I know she does
not care for me. I shall put myself at her feet--I must. If it
were but one chance in a thousand--or a million--I should do it.' 'Don't fear!' said his mother, crushing down her own personal
mortification at the little notice he had taken of the rare
ebullition of her maternal feelings--of the pang of jealousy that
betrayed the intensity of her disregarded love. 'Don't be
afraid,' she said, coldly. 'As far as love may go she may be
worthy of you. It must have taken a good deal to overcome her
pride. Don't be afraid, John,' said she, kissing him, as she
wished him good-night. And she went slowly and majestically out
of the room. But when she got into her own, she locked the door,
and sate down to cry unwonted tears.