’You can’t think the smoky air of a manufacturing town, all chimneys and dirt like Milton-Northern, would be better than this air, which is pure and sweet, if it is too soft and relaxing.  Fancy living in the middle of factories, and factory people!  Though, of course, if your father leaves the Church, we shall not be admitted into society anywhere.  It will be such a disgrace to us!  Poor dear Sir John!  It is well he is not alive to see what your father has come to!  Every day after dinner, when I was a girl, living with your aunt Shaw, at Beresford Court, Sir John used to give for the first toast—­“Church and King, and down with the Rump."’

Margaret was glad that her mother’s thoughts were turned away from the fact of her husband’s silence to her on the point which must have been so near his heart.  Next to the serious vital anxiety as to the nature of her father’s doubts, this was the one circumstance of the case that gave Margaret the most pain.

’You know, we have very little society here, mamma.  The Gormans, who are our nearest neighbours (to call society—­and we hardly ever see them), have been in trade just as much as these Milton-Northern people.’

‘Yes,’ said Mrs. Hale, almost indignantly, ’but, at any rate, the Gormans made carriages for half the gentry of the county, and were brought into some kind of intercourse with them; but these factory people, who on earth wears cotton that can afford linen?’

’Well, mamma, I give up the cotton-spinners; I am not standing up for them, any more than for any other trades-people.  Only we shall have little enough to do with them.’

’Why on earth has your father fixed on Milton-Northern to live in?’

‘Partly,’ said Margaret, sighing, ’because it is so very different from Helstone—­partly because Mr. Bell says there is an opening there for a private tutor.’

’Private tutor in Milton!  Why can’t he go to Oxford, and be a tutor to gentlemen?’

’You forget, mamma!  He is leaving the Church on account of his opinions—­his doubts would do him no good at Oxford.’

Mrs. Hale was silent for some time, quietly crying.  At last she said:—­

’And the furniture—­How in the world are we to manage the removal?  I never removed in my life, and only a fortnight to think about it!’

Margaret was inexpressibly relieved to find that her mother’s anxiety and distress was lowered to this point, so insignificant to herself, and on which she could do so much to help.  She planned and promised, and led her mother on to arrange fully as much as could be fixed before they knew somewhat more definitively what Mr. Hale intended to do.  Throughout the day Margaret never left her mother; bending her whole soul to sympathise in all the various turns her feelings took; towards evening especially, as she became more and more anxious that her father should find a soothing welcome home awaiting him, after his