As they went, Mr. Hale began about his wife’s health, with a kind of veiled anxiety, which Margaret was glad to see awakened at last.

‘Did you consult the doctor, Margaret?  Did you send for him?’

’No, papa, you spoke of his corning to see me.  Now I was well.  But if I only knew of some good doctor, I would go this afternoon, and ask him to come, for I am sure mamma is seriously indisposed.’

She put the truth thus plainly and strongly because her father had so completely shut his mind against the idea, when she had last named her fears.  But now the case was changed.  He answered in a despondent tone: 

’Do you think she has any hidden complaint?  Do you think she is really very ill?  Has Dixon said anything?  Oh, Margaret!  I am haunted by the fear that our coming to Milton has killed her.  My poor Maria!’

‘Oh, papa! don’t imagine such things,’ said Margaret, shocked.  ’She is not well, that is all.  Many a one is not well for a time; and with good advice gets better and stronger than ever.’

‘But has Dixon said anything about her?’

’No!  You know Dixon enjoys making a mystery out of trifles; and she has been a little mysterious about mamma’s health, which has alarmed me rather, that is all.  Without any reason, I dare say.  You know, papa, you said the other day I was getting fanciful.’

’I hope and trust you are.  But don’t think of what I said then.  I like you to be fanciful about your mother’s health.  Don’t be afraid of telling me your fancies.  I like to hear them, though, I dare say, I spoke as if I was annoyed.  But we will ask Mrs. Thornton if she can tell us of a good doctor.  We won’t throw away our money on any but some one first-rate.  Stay, we turn up this street.’  The street did not look as if it could contain any house large enough for Mrs. Thornton’s habitation.  Her son’s presence never gave any impression as to the kind of house he lived in; but, unconsciously, Margaret had imagined that tall, massive, handsomely dressed Mrs. Thornton must live in a house of the same character as herself.  Now Marlborough Street consisted of long rows of small houses, with a blank wall here and there; at least that was all they could see from the point at which they entered it.

‘He told me he lived in Marlborough Street, I’m sure,’ said Mr. Hale, with a much perplexed air.

’Perhaps it is one of the economies he still practises, to live in a very small house.  But here are plenty of people about; let me ask.’

She accordingly inquired of a passer-by, and was informed that Mr. Thornton lived close to the mill, and had the factory lodge-door pointed out to her, at the end of the long dead wall they had noticed.