But Mr. Thornton had no general benevolence,—­no universal philanthropy; few even would have given him credit for strong affections.  But he went straight to the first fruit-shop in Milton, and chose out the bunch of purple grapes with the most delicate bloom upon them,—­the richest-coloured peaches,—­the freshest vine-leaves.  They were packed into a basket, and the shopman awaited the answer to his inquiry, ’Where shall we send them to, sir?’

There was no reply.  ‘To Marlborough Mills, I suppose, sir?’

‘No!’ Mr. Thornton said.  ‘Give the basket to me,—­I’ll take it.’

It took up both his hands to carry it; and he had to pass through the busiest part of the town for feminine shopping.  Many a young lady of his acquaintance turned to look after him, and thought it strange to see him occupied just like a porter or an errand-boy.

He was thinking, ’I will not be daunted from doing as I choose by the thought of her.  I like to take this fruit to the poor mother, and it is simply right that I should.  She shall never scorn me out of doing what I please.  A pretty joke, indeed, if, for fear of a haughty girl, I failed in doing a kindness to a man I liked I do it for Mr. Hale; I do it in defiance of her.’

He went at an unusual pace, and was soon at Crampton.  He went upstairs two steps at a time, and entered the drawing-room before Dixon could announce him,—­his face flushed, his eyes shining with kindly earnestness.  Mrs. Hale lay on the sofa, heated with fever.  Mr. Hale was reading aloud.  Margaret was working on a low stool by her mother’s side.  Her heart fluttered, if his did not, at this interview.  But he took no notice of her, hardly of Mr. Hale himself; he went up straight with his basket to Mrs. Hale, and said, in that subdued and gentle tone, which is so touching when used by a robust man in full health, speaking to a feeble invalid—­

’I met Dr. Donaldson, ma’am, and as he said fruit would be good for you, I have taken the liberty—­the great liberty of bringing you some that seemed to me fine.’  Mrs. Hale was excessively surprised; excessively pleased; quite in a tremble of eagerness.  Mr. Hale with fewer words expressed a deeper gratitude.

‘Fetch a plate, Margaret—­a basket—­anything.’  Margaret stood up by the table, half afraid of moving or making any noise to arouse Mr. Thornton into a consciousness of her being in the room.  She thought it would be awkward for both to be brought into conscious collision; and fancied that, from her being on a low seat at first, and now standing behind her father, he had overlooked her in his haste.  As if he did not feel the consciousness of her presence all over, though his eyes had never rested on her!

‘I must go,’ said he, ’I cannot stay.  If you will forgive this liberty,—­my rough ways,—­too abrupt, I fear—­but I will be more gentle next time.  You will allow me the pleasure of bringing you some fruit again, if I should see any that is tempting.  Good afternoon, Mr. Hale.  Good-bye, ma’am.’