No more contempt for her!—­no more talk about the chivalric!  Henceforward she must feel humiliated and disgraced in his sight.  But when should she see him?  Her heart leaped up in apprehension at every ring of the door-bell; and yet when it fell down to calmness, she felt strangely saddened and sick at heart at each disappointment.  It was very evident that her father expected to see him, and was surprised that he did not come.  The truth was, that there were points in their conversation the other night on which they had no time then to enlarge; but it had been understood that if possible on the succeeding evening—­if not then, at least the very first evening that Mr. Thornton could command,—­they should meet for further discussion.  Mr. Hale had looked forward to this meeting ever since they had parted.  He had not yet resumed the instruction to his pupils, which he had relinquished at the commencement of his wife’s more serious illness, so he had fewer occupations than usual; and the great interest of the last day or so (Boucher’s suicide) had driven him back with more eagerness than ever upon his speculations.  He was restless all evening.  He kept saying, ’I quite expected to have seen Mr. Thornton.  I think the messenger who brought the book last night must have had some note, and forgot to deliver it.  Do you think there has been any message left to-day?’

‘I will go and inquire, papa,’ said Margaret, after the changes on these sentences had been rung once or twice.  ’Stay, there’s a ring!’ She sate down instantly, and bent her head attentively over her work.  She heard a step on the stairs, but it was only one, and she knew it was Dixon’s.  She lifted up her head and sighed, and believed she felt glad.

’It’s that Higgins, sir.  He wants to see you, or else Miss Hale.  Or it might be Miss Hale first, and then you, sir; for he’s in a strange kind of way.

’He had better come up here, Dixon; and then he can see us both, and choose which he likes for his listener.’

’Oh! very well, sir.  I’ve no wish to hear what he’s got to say, I’m sure; only, if you could see his shoes, I’m sure you’d say the kitchen was the fitter place.

’He can wipe them, I suppose, said Mr. Hale.  So Dixon flung off, to bid him walk up-stairs.  She was a little mollified, however, when he looked at his feet with a hesitating air; and then, sitting down on the bottom stair, he took off the offending shoes, and without a word walked up-stairs.

‘Sarvant, sir!’ said he, slicking his hair down when he came into the room.  ‘If hoo’l excuse me (looking at Margaret) for being i’ my stockings; I’se been tramping a’ day, and streets is none o’ th’ cleanest.’

Margaret thought that fatigue might account for the change in his manner, for he was unusually quiet and subdued; and he had evidently some difficulty in saying what he came to say.

Mr. Hale’s ever-ready sympathy with anything of shyness or hesitation, or want of self-possession, made him come to his aid.