Chapter 35

CHAPTER XXXV - EXPIATION

'There's nought so finely spun

But it cometh to the sun.'

Mr. Thornton sate on and on. He felt that his company gave
pleasure to Mr. Hale; and was touched by the half-spoken wishful
entreaty that he would remain a little longer--the plaintive
'Don't go yet,' which his poor friend put forth from time to
time. He wondered Margaret did not return; but it was with no
view of seeing her that he lingered. For the hour--and in the
presence of one who was so thoroughly feeling the nothingness of
earth--he was reasonable and self-controlled. He was deeply
interested in all her father said

'Of death, and of the heavy lull,

And of the brain that has grown dull.'

It was curious how the presence of Mr. Thornton had power over
Mr. Hale to make him unlock the secret thoughts which he kept
shut up even from Margaret. Whether it was that her sympathy
would be so keen, and show itself in so lively a manner, that he
was afraid of the reaction upon himself, or whether it was that
to his speculative mind all kinds of doubts presented themselves
at such a time, pleading and crying aloud to be resolved into
certainties, and that he knew she would have shrunk from the
expression of any such doubts--nay, from him himself as capable
of conceiving them--whatever was the reason, he could unburden
himself better to Mr. Thornton than to her of all the thoughts
and fancies and fears that had been frost-bound in his brain till
now. Mr. Thornton said very little; but every sentence he uttered
added to Mr. Hale's reliance and regard for him. Was it that he
paused in the expression of some remembered agony, Mr. Thornton's
two or three words would complete the sentence, and show how
deeply its meaning was entered into. Was it a doubt--a fear--a
wandering uncertainty seeking rest, but finding none--so
tear-blinded were its eyes--Mr. Thornton, instead of being
shocked, seemed to have passed through that very stage of thought
himself, and could suggest where the exact ray of light was to be
found, which should make the dark places plain. Man of action as
he was, busy in the world's great battle, there was a deeper
religion binding him to God in his heart, in spite of his strong
wilfulness, through all his mistakes, than Mr. Hale had ever
dreamed. They never spoke of such things again, as it happened;
but this one conversation made them peculiar people to each
other; knit them together, in a way which no loose indiscriminate
talking about sacred things can ever accomplish. When all are
admitted, how can there be a Holy of Holies?

And all this while, Margaret lay as still and white as death on
the study floor! She had sunk under her burden. It had been heavy