Margaret had all the difficulty in the world to persuade her father not to invite Mr. Thornton.  She had an indescribable repugnance to this step being taken.  The night before the funeral, came a stately note from Mrs. Thornton to Miss Hale, saying that, at her son’s desire, their carriage should attend the funeral, if it would not be disagreeable to the family.  Margaret tossed the note to her father.

‘Oh, don’t let us have these forms,’ said she.  ’Let us go alone—­you and me, papa.  They don’t care for us, or else he would have offered to go himself, and not have proposed this sending an empty carriage.’

‘I thought you were so extremely averse to his going, Margaret,’ said Mr. Hale in some surprise.

’And so I am.  I don’t want him to come at all; and I should especially dislike the idea of our asking him.  But this seems such a mockery of mourning that I did not expect it from him.’  She startled her father by bursting into tears.  She had been so subdued in her grief, so thoughtful for others, so gentle and patient in all things, that he could not understand her impatient ways to-night; she seemed agitated and restless; and at all the tenderness which her father in his turn now lavished upon her, she only cried the more.

She passed so bad a night that she was ill prepared for the additional anxiety caused by a letter received from Frederick.  Mr. Lennox was out of town; his clerk said that he would return by the following Tuesday at the latest; that he might possibly be at home on Monday.  Consequently, after some consideration, Frederick had determined upon remaining in London a day or two longer.  He had thought of coming down to Milton again; the temptation had been very strong; but the idea of Mr. Bell domesticated in his father’s house, and the alarm he had received at the last moment at the railway station, had made him resolve to stay in London.  Margaret might be assured he would take every precaution against being tracked by Leonards.  Margaret was thankful that she received this letter while her father was absent in her mother’s room.  If he had been present, he would have expected her to read it aloud to him, and it would have raised in him a state of nervous alarm which she would have found it impossible to soothe away.  There was not merely the fact, which disturbed her excessively, of Frederick’s detention in London, but there were allusions to the recognition at the last moment at Milton, and the possibility of a pursuit, which made her blood run cold; and how then would it have affected her father?  Many a time did Margaret repent of having suggested and urged on the plan of consulting Mr. Lennox.  At the moment, it had seemed as if it would occasion so little delay—­add so little to the apparently small chances of detection; and yet everything that had since occurred had tended to make it so undesirable.  Margaret battled hard against this regret of hers for what could not now