her post of body-guard, attended most faithfully to her mistress, and only emerged from Mrs. Hale’s bed-room to shake her head, and murmur to herself in a manner which Margaret did not choose to hear.  For, the one thing clear and straight before her, was the necessity for leaving Helstone.  Mr. Hale’s successor in the living was appointed; and, at any rate, after her father’s decision; there must be no lingering now, for his sake, as well as from every other consideration.  For he came home every evening more and more depressed, after the necessary leave-taking which he had resolved to have with every individual parishioner.  Margaret, inexperienced as she was in all the necessary matter-of-fact business to be got through, did not know to whom to apply for advice.  The cook and Charlotte worked away with willing arms and stout hearts at all the moving and packing; and as far as that went, Margaret’s admirable sense enabled her to see what was best, and to direct how it should be done.  But where were they to go to?  In a week they must be gone.  Straight to Milton, or where?  So many arrangements depended on this decision that Margaret resolved to ask her father one evening, in spite of his evident fatigue and low spirits.  He answered: 

’My dear!  I have really had too much to think about to settle this.  What does your mother say?  What does she wish?  Poor Maria!’

He met with an echo even louder than his sigh.  Dixon had just come into the room for another cup of tea for Mrs. Hale, and catching Mr. Hale’s last words, and protected by his presence from Margaret’s upbraiding eyes, made bold to say, ’My poor mistress!’

‘You don’t think her worse to-day,’ said Mr. Hale, turning hastily.

’I’m sure I can’t say, sir.  It’s not for me to judge.  The illness seems so much more on the mind than on the body.’

Mr. Hale looked infinitely distressed.

‘You had better take mamma her tea while it is hot, Dixon,’ said Margaret, in a tone of quiet authority.

’Oh!  I beg your pardon, miss!  My thoughts was otherwise occupied in thinking of my poor——­of Mrs. Hale.’

‘Papa!’ said Margaret, ’it is this suspense that is bad for you both.  Of course, mamma must feel your change of opinions:  we can’t help that,’ she continued, softly; ’but now the course is clear, at least to a certain point.  And I think, papa, that I could get mamma to help me in planning, if you could tell me what to plan for.  She has never expressed any wish in any way, and only thinks of what can’t be helped.  Are we to go straight to Milton?  Have you taken a house there?’

‘No,’ he replied.  ’I suppose we must go into lodgings, and look about for a house.

’And pack up the furniture so that it can be left at the railway station, till we have met with one?’

’I suppose so.  Do what you think best.  Only remember, we shall have much less money to spend.’