’My son was engaged up to the last moment on business.  He will be here directly, Mr. Hale.  May I beg you to take a seat?’

Mr. Hale was standing at one of the windows as Mrs. Thornton spoke.  He turned away, saying,

’Don’t you find such close neighbourhood to the mill rather unpleasant at times?’

She drew herself up: 

’Never.  I am not become so fine as to desire to forget the source of my son’s wealth and power.  Besides, there is not such another factory in Milton.  One room alone is two hundred and twenty square yards.’

’I meant that the smoke and the noise—­the constant going out and coming in of the work-people, might be annoying!’

‘I agree with you, Mr. Hale!’ said Fanny.  ’There is a continual smell of steam, and oily machinery—­and the noise is perfectly deafening.’

’I have heard noise that was called music far more deafening.  The engine-room is at the street-end of the factory; we hardly hear it, except in summer weather, when all the windows are open; and as for the continual murmur of the work-people, it disturbs me no more than the humming of a hive of bees.  If I think of it at all, I connect it with my son, and feel how all belongs to him, and that his is the head that directs it.  Just now, there are no sounds to come from the mill; the hands have been ungrateful enough to turn out, as perhaps you have heard.  But the very business (of which I spoke, when you entered), had reference to the steps he is going to take to make them learn their place.’  The expression on her face, always stern, deepened into dark anger, as she said this.  Nor did it clear away when Mr. Thornton entered the room; for she saw, in an instant, the weight of care and anxiety which he could not shake off, although his guests received from him a greeting that appeared both cheerful and cordial.  He shook hands with Margaret.  He knew it was the first time their hands had met, though she was perfectly unconscious of the fact.  He inquired after Mrs. Hale, and heard Mr. Hale’s sanguine, hopeful account; and glancing at Margaret, to understand how far she agreed with her father, he saw that no dissenting shadow crossed her face.  And as he looked with this intention, he was struck anew with her great beauty.  He had never seen her in such dress before and yet now it appeared as if such elegance of attire was so befitting her noble figure and lofty serenity of countenance, that she ought to go always thus apparelled.  She was talking to Fanny; about what, he could not hear; but he saw his sister’s restless way of continually arranging some part of her gown, her wandering eyes, now glancing here, now there, but without any purpose in her observation; and he contrasted them uneasily with the large soft eyes that looked forth steadily at one object, as if from out their light beamed some gentle influence of repose:  the curving lines of the red lips, just parted in the interest of listening to what her