Chapter 23

CHAPTER XXIII - MISTAKES

'Which when his mother saw, she in her mind

Was troubled sore, ne wist well what to ween.'

SPENSER.

Margaret had not been gone five minutes when Mr. Thornton came
in, his face all a-glow.

'I could not come sooner: the superintendent would----Where is
she?' He looked round the dining-room, and then almost fiercely
at his mother, who was quietly re-arranging the disturbed
furniture, and did not instantly reply. 'Where is Miss Hale?'
asked he again.

'Gone home,' said she, rather shortly.

'Gone home!'

'Yes. She was a great deal better. Indeed, I don't believe it was
so very much of a hurt; only some people faint at the least
thing.'

'I am sorry she is gone home,' said he, walking uneasily about.
'She could not have been fit for it.'

'She said she was; and Mr. Lowe said she was. I went for him
myself.'

'Thank you, mother.' He stopped, and partly held out his hand to
give her a grateful shake. But she did not notice the movement.

'What have you done with your Irish people?'

'Sent to the Dragon for a good meal for them, poor wretches. And
then, luckily, I caught Father Grady, and I've asked him in to
speak to them, and dissuade them from going off in a body. How
did Miss Hale go home? I'm sure she could not walk.'

'She had a cab. Everything was done properly, even to the paying.
Let us talk of something else. She has caused disturbance
enough.'

'I don't know where I should have been but for her.'

'Are you become so helpless as to have to be defended by a girl?'
asked Mrs. Thornton, scornfully.

He reddened. 'Not many girls would have taken the blows on
herself which were meant for me;--meant with right down
good-will, too.'

'A girl in love will do a good deal,' replied Mrs. Thornton,
shortly.

'Mother!' He made a step forwards; stood still; heaved with
passion.

She was a little startled at the evident force he used to keep
himself calm. She was not sure of the nature of the emotions she
had provoked. It was only their violence that was clear. Was it
anger? His eyes glowed, his figure was dilated, his breath came
thick and fast. It was a mixture of joy, of anger, of pride, of
glad surprise, of panting doubt; but she could not read it. Still
it made her uneasy,--as the presence of all strong feeling, of
which the cause is not fully understood or sympathised in, always
has this effect. She went to the side-board, opened a drawer, and
took out a duster, which she kept there for any occasional
purpose. She had seen a drop of eau de Cologne on the polished
arm of the sofa, and instinctively sought to wipe it off. But she
kept her