’Thank you.  My father will return soon, and then you can tell him.’  Margaret opened the door and went in with the straight, fearless, dignified presence habitual to her.  She felt no awkwardness; she had too much the habits of society for that.  Here was a person come on business to her father; and, as he was one who had shown himself obliging, she was disposed to treat him with a full measure of civility.  Mr. Thornton was a good deal more surprised and discomfited than she.  Instead of a quiet, middle-aged clergyman, a young lady came forward with frank dignity,—­a young lady of a different type to most of those he was in the habit of seeing.  Her dress was very plain:  a close straw bonnet of the best material and shape, trimmed with white ribbon; a dark silk gown, without any trimming or flounce; a large Indian shawl, which hung about her in long heavy folds, and which she wore as an empress wears her drapery.  He did not understand who she was, as he caught the simple, straight, unabashed look, which showed that his being there was of no concern to the beautiful countenance, and called up no flush of surprise to the pale ivory of the complexion.  He had heard that Mr. Hale had a daughter, but he had imagined that she was a little girl.

‘Mr. Thornton, I believe!’ said Margaret, after a half-instant’s pause, during which his unready words would not come.  ’Will you sit down.  My father brought me to the door, not a minute ago, but unfortunately he was not told that you were here, and he has gone away on some business.  But he will come back almost directly.  I am sorry you have had the trouble of calling twice.’

Mr. Thornton was in habits of authority himself, but she seemed to assume some kind of rule over him at once.  He had been getting impatient at the loss of his time on a market-day, the moment before she appeared, yet now he calmly took a seat at her bidding.

’Do you know where it is that Mr. Hale has gone to?  Perhaps I might be able to find him.’

’He has gone to a Mr. Donkin’s in Canute Street.  He is the land-lord of the house my father wishes to take in Crampton.’

Mr. Thornton knew the house.  He had seen the advertisement, and been to look at it, in compliance with a request of Mr. Bell’s that he would assist Mr. Hale to the best of his power:  and also instigated by his own interest in the case of a clergyman who had given up his living under circumstances such as those of Mr. Hale.  Mr. Thornton had thought that the house in Crampton was really just the thing; but now that he saw Margaret, with her superb ways of moving and looking, he began to feel ashamed of having imagined that it would do very well for the Hales, in spite of a certain vulgarity in it which had struck him at the time of his looking it over.