GEORGE HERBERT.
Mr. Thornton left the house without coming into the dining-room again. He was rather late, and walked rapidly out to Crampton. He was anxious not to slight his new friend by any disrespectful unpunctuality. The church-clock struck half-past seven as he stood at the door awaiting Dixon’s slow movements; always doubly tardy1 when she had to degrade herself by answering the door-bell. He was ushered2 into the little drawing-room, and kindly3 greeted by Mr. Hale, who led him up to his wife, whose pale face, and shawl-draped figure made a silent excuse for the cold languor4 of her greeting. Margaret was lighting5 the lamp when he entered, for the darkness was coming on. The lamp threw a pretty light into the centre of the dusky room, from which, with country habits, they did not exclude the night-skies, and the outer darkness of air. Somehow, that room contrasted itself with the one he had lately left; handsome, ponderous6, with no sign of feminine habitation, except in the one spot where his mother sate7, and no convenience for any other employment than eating and drinking. To be sure, it was a dining-room; his mother preferred to sit in it; and her will was a household law. But the drawing-room was not like this. It was twice — twenty times as fine; not one quarter as comfortable. Here were no mirrors, not even a scrap8 of glass to reflect the light, and answer the same purpose as water in a landscape; no gilding9; a warm, sober breadth of colouring, well relieved by the dear old Helstone chintz-curtains and chair covers. An open davenport stood in the window opposite the door; in the other there was a stand, with a tall white china vase, from which drooped10 wreaths of English ivy11, pale-green birch, and copper-coloured beech-leaves. Pretty baskets of work stood about in different places: and books, not cared for on account of their binding12 solely13, lay on one table, as if recently put down. Behind the door was another table, decked out for tea, with a white tablecloth14, on which flourished the cocoa-nut cakes, and a basket piled with oranges and ruddy American apples, heaped on leaves.
It appeared to Mr. Thornton that all these graceful15 cares were habitual16 to the family; and especially of a piece with Margaret. She stood by the tea-table in a light-coloured muslin gown, which had a good deal of pink about it. She looked as if she was not attending to the conversation, but solely busy with the tea-cups, among which her round ivory hands moved with pretty, noiseless, daintiness. She had a bracelet17 on one taper18 arm, which would fall down over her round wrist. Mr. Thornton watched the replacing of this troublesome ornament19 with far more attention than he listened to her father. It seemed as if it fascinated him to see her push it up impatiently, until it tightened20 her soft flesh; and then to mark the loosening — the fall. He could almost have exclaimed —‘There it goes, again!’ There was so little left to be done after he arrived at the preparation for tea, that he was almost sorry the obligation of eating and drinking came so soon to prevent his watching Margaret. She handed him his cup of tea with the proud air of an unwilling21 slave; but her eye caught the moment when he was ready for another cup; and he almost longed to ask her to do for him what he saw her compelled to do for her father, who took her little finger and thumb in his masculine hand, and made them serve as sugar-tongs. Mr. Thornton saw her beautiful eyes lifted to her father, full of light, half-laughter and half-love, as this bit of pantomime went on between the two, unobserved, as they fancied, by any. Margaret’s head still ached, as the paleness of her complexion22, and her silence might have testified; but she was resolved to throw herself into the breach23, if there was any long untoward24 pause, rather than that her father’s friend, pupil, and guest should have cause to think himself in any way neglected. But the conversation went on; and Margaret drew into a corner, near her mother, with her work, after the tea-things were taken away; and felt that she might let her thoughts roam, without fear of being suddenly wanted to fill up a gap.
Mr. Thornton and Mr. Hale were both absorbed in the continuation of some subject which had been started at their last meeting. Margaret was recalled to a sense of the present by some trivial, low-spoken remark of her mother’s; and on suddenly looking up from her work, her eye was caught by the difference of outward appearance between her father and Mr. Thornton, as betokening26 such distinctly opposite natures. Her father was of slight figure, which made him appear taller than he really was, when not contrasted, as at this time, with the tall, massive frame of another. The lines in her father’s face were soft and waving, with a frequent undulating kind of trembling movement passing over them, showing every fluctuating emotion; the eyelids27 were large and arched, giving to the eyes a peculiar28 languid beauty which was almost feminine. The brows were finely arched, but were, by the very size of the dreamy lids, raised to a considerable distance from the eyes. Now, in Mr. Thornton’s face the straight brows fell low over the clear, deep-set earnest eyes, which, without being unpleasantly sharp, seemed intent enough to penetrate29 into the very heart and core of what he was looking at. The lines in the face were few but firm, as if they were carved in marble, and lay principally about the lips, which were slightly compressed over a set of teeth so faultless and beautiful as to give the effect of sudden sunlight when the rare bright smile, coming in an instant and shining out of the eyes, changed the whole look from the severe and resolved expression of a man ready to do and dare everything, to the keen honest enjoyment30 of the moment, which is seldom shown so fearlessly and instantaneously except by children. Margaret liked this smile; it was the first thing she had admired in this new friend of her father’s; and the opposition31 of character, shown in all these details of appearance she had just been noticing, seemed to explain the attraction they evidently felt towards each other.
She rearranged her mother’s worsted-work, and fell back into her own thoughts — as completely forgotten by Mr. Thornton as if she had not been in the room, so thoroughly32 was he occupied in explaining to Mr. Hale the magnificent power, yet delicate adjustment of the might of the steam-hammer, which was recalling to Mr. Hale some of the wonderful stories of subservient33 genii in the Arabian Nights — one moment stretching from earth to sky and filling all the width of the horizon, at the next obediently compressed into a vase small enough to be borne in the hand of a child.
‘And this imagination of power, this practical realisation of a gigantic thought, came out of one man’s brain in our good town. That very man has it within him to mount, step by step, on each wonder he achieves to higher marvels34 still. And I’ll be bound to say, we have many among us who, if he were gone, could spring into the breach and carry on the war which compels, and shall compel, all material power to yield to science.’
‘Your boast reminds me of the old lines —“I’ve a hundred captains in England,” he said, “As good as ever was he.”’
At her father’s quotation35 Margaret looked suddenly up, with inquiring wonder in her eyes. How in the world had they got from cog-wheels to Chevy Chace?
‘It is no boast of mine,’ replied Mr. Thornton; ‘it is plain matter-of-fact. I won’t deny that I am proud of belonging to a town — or perhaps I should rather say a district — the necessities of which give birth to such grandeur37 of conception. I would rather be a man toiling38, suffering — nay39, failing and successless — here, than lead a dull prosperous life in the old worn grooves40 of what you call more aristocratic society down in the South, with their slow days of careless ease. One may be clogged41 with honey and unable to rise and fly.’
‘You are mistaken,’ said Margaret, roused by the aspersion42 on her beloved South to a fond vehemence43 of defence, that brought the colour into her cheeks and the angry tears into her eyes. ‘You do not know anything about the South. If there is less adventure or less progress — I suppose I must not say less excitement — from the gambling44 spirit of trade, which seems requisite45 to force out these wonderful inventions, there is less suffering also. I see men h ere going about in the streets who look ground down by some pinching sorrow or care — who are not only sufferers but haters. Now, in the South we have our poor, but there is not that terrible expression in their countenances46 of a sullen47 sense of injustice48 which I see here. You do not know the South, Mr. Thornton,’ she concluded, collapsing49 into a determined50 silence, and angry with herself for having said so much.
‘And may I say you do not know the North?’ asked he, with an inexpressible gentleness in his tone, as he saw that he had really hurt her. She continued resolutely51 silent; yearning52 after the lovely haunts she had left far away in Hampshire, with a passionate53 longing36 that made her feel her voice would be unsteady and trembling if she spoke25.
‘At any rate, Mr. Thornton,’ said Mrs. Hale, ‘you will allow that Milton is a much more smoky, dirty town than you will ever meet with in the South.’
‘I’m afraid I must give up its cleanliness,’ said Mr. Thornton, with the quick gleaming smile. ‘But we are bidden by parliament to burn our own smoke; so I suppose, like good little children, we shall do as we are bid — some time.’
‘But I think you told me you had altered your chimneys so as to consume the smoke, did you not?’ asked Mr. Hale.
‘Mine were altered by my own will, before parliament meddled54 with the affair. It was an immediate55 outlay56, but it repays me in the saving of coal. I’m not sure whether I should have done it, if I had waited until the act was passed. At any rate, I should have waited to be informed against and fined, and given all the trouble in yielding that I legally could. But all laws which depend for their enforcement upon informers and fines, become inert57 from the odiousness58 of the machinery59. I doubt if there has been a chimney in Milton informed against for five years past, although some are constantly sending out one-third of their coal in what is called here unparliamentary smoke.’
‘I only know it is impossible to keep the muslin blinds clean here above a week together; and at Helstone we have had them up for a month or more, and they have not looked dirty at the end of that time. And as for hands — Margaret, how many times did you say you had washed your hands this morning before twelve o’clock? Three times, was it not?’
‘Yes, mamma.’
‘You seem to have a strong objection to acts of parliament and all legislation affecting your mode of management down here at Milton,’ said Mr. Hale.
‘Yes, I have; and many others have as well. And with justice, I think. The whole machinery — I don’t mean the wood and iron machinery now — of the cotton trade is so new that it is no wonder if it does not work well in every part all at once. Seventy years ago what was it? And now what is it not? Raw, crude materials came together; men of the same level, as regarded education and station, took suddenly the different positions of masters and men, owing to the motherwit, as regarded opportunities and probabilities, which distinguished60 some, and made them far-seeing as to what great future lay concealed61 in that rude model of Sir Richard Arkwright’s. The rapid development of what might be called a new trade, gave those early masters enormous power of wealth and command. I don’t mean merely over the workmen; I mean over purchasers — over the whole world’s market. Why, I may give you, as an instance, an advertisement, inserted not fifty years ago in a Milton paper, that so-and-so (one of the half-dozen calico-printers of the time) would close his warehouse62 at noon each day; therefore, that all purchasers must come before that hour. Fancy a man dictating63 in this manner the time when he would sell and when he would not sell. Now, I believe, if a good customer chose to come at midnight, I should get up, and stand hat in hand to receive his orders.’
Margaret’s lip curled, but somehow she was compelled to listen; she could no longer abstract herself in her own thoughts.
‘I only name such things to show what almost unlimited64 power the manufacturers had about the beginning of this century. The men were rendered dizzy by it. Because a man was successful in his ventures, there was no reason that in all other things his mind should be well-balanced. On the Contrary, his sense of justice, and his simplicity65, were often utterly66 smothered67 under the glut68 of wealth that came down upon him; and they tell strange tales of the wild extravagance of living indulged in on gala-days by those early cotton-lords. There can be no doubt, too, of the tyranny they exercised over their work-people. You know the proverb, Mr. Hale, “Set a beggar on horseback, and he’ll ride to the devil,”— well, some of these early manufacturers did ride to the devil in a magnificent style — crushing human bone and flesh under their horses’ hoofs69 without remorse70. But by-and-by came a re-action, there were more factories, more masters; more men were wanted. The power of masters and men became more evenly balanced; and now the battle is pretty fairly waged between us. We will hardly submit to the decision of an umpire, much less to the interference of a meddler71 with only a smattering of the knowledge of the real facts of the case, even though that meddler be called the High Court of Parliament.
‘Is there necessity for calling it a battle between the two classes?’ asked Mr. Hale. ‘I know, from your using the term, it is one which gives a true idea of the real state of things to your mind.’
‘It is true; and I believe it to be as much a necessity as that prudent72 wisdom and good conduct are always opposed to, and doing battle with ignorance and improvidence73. It is one of the great beauties of our system, that a working-man may raise himself into the power and position of a master by his own exertions74 and behaviour; that, in fact, every one who rules himself to decency75 and sobriety of conduct, and attention to his duties, comes over to our ranks; it may not be always as a master, but as an over-looker, a cashier, a book-keeper, a clerk, one on the side of authority and order.’
‘You consider all who are unsuccessful in raising themselves in the world, from whatever cause, as your enemies, then, if I under-stand you rightly,’ said Margaret’ in a clear, cold voice.
‘As their own enemies, certainly,’ said he, quickly, not a little piqued76 by the haughty77 disapproval78 her form of expression and tone of speaking implied. But, in a moment, his straightforward79 honesty made him feel that his words were but a poor and quibbling answer to what she had said; and, be she as scornful as she liked, it was a duty he owed to himself to explain, as truly as he could, what he did mean. Yet it was very difficult to separate her interpretation80, and keep it distinct from his meaning. He could best have illustrated81 what he wanted to say by telling them something of his own life; but was it not too personal a subject to speak about to strangers? Still, it was the simple straightforward way of explaining his meaning; so, putting aside the touch of shyness that brought a momentary82 flush of colour into his dark cheek, he said:
‘I am not speaking without book. Sixteen years ago, my father died under very miserable83 circumstances. I was taken from school, and had to become a man (as well as I could) in a few days. I had such a mother as few are blest with; a woman of strong power, and firm resolve. We went into a small country town, where living was cheaper than in Milton, and where I got employment in a draper’s shop (a capital place, by the way, for obtaining a knowledge of goods). Week by week our income came to fifteen shillings, out of which three people had to be kept. My mother managed so that I put by three out of these fifteen shillings regularly. This made the beginning; this taught me self-denial. Now that I am able to afford my mother such comforts as her age, rather than her own wish, requires, I thank her silently on each occasion for the early training she gave me. Now when I feel that in my own case it is no good luck, nor merit, nor talent — but simply the habits of life which taught me to despise indulgences not thoroughly earned — indeed, never to think twice about them — I believe that this suffering, which Miss Hale says is impressed on the countenances of the people of Milton, is but the natural punishment of dishonestly-enjoyed pleasure, at some former period of their lives. I do not look on self-indulgent, sensual people as worthy84 of my hatred85; I simply look upon them with contempt for their poorness of character.’
‘But you have had the rudiments86 of a good education,’ remarked Mr. Hale. ‘The quick zest87 with which you are now reading Homer, shows me that you do not come to it as an unknown book; you have read it before, and are only recalling your old knowledge.’
‘That is true — I had blundered along it at school; I dare say, I was even considered a pretty fair classic in those days, though my Latin and Greek have slipt away from me since. But I ask you, what preparation they were for such a life as I had to lead? None at all. Utterly none at all. On the point of education, any man who can read and write starts fair with me in the amount of really useful knowledge that I had at that time.’
‘Well! I don’t agree with you. But there I am perhaps somewhat of a pedant88. Did not the recollection of the heroic simplicity of the Homeric life nerve you up?’
‘Not one bit!’ exclaimed Mr. Thornton, laughing. ‘I was too busy to think about any dead people, with the living pressing alongside of me, neck to neck, in the struggle for bread. Now that I have my mother safe in the quiet peace that becomes her age, and duly rewards her former exertions, I can turn to all that old narration89 and thoroughly enjoy it.’
‘I dare say, my remark came from the professional feeling of there being nothing like leather,’ replied Mr. Hale.
When Mr. Thornton rose up to go away, after shaking hands with Mr. and Mrs. Hale, he made an advance to Margaret to wish her good-bye in a similar manner. It was the frank familiar custom of the place; but Margaret was not prepared for it. She simply bowed her farewell; although the instant she saw the hand, half put out, quickly drawn90 back, she was sorry she had not been aware of the intention. Mr. Thornton, however, knew nothing of her sorrow, and, drawing himself up to his full height, walked off, muttering as he left the house —
‘A more proud, disagreeable girl I never saw. Even her great beauty is blotted91 out of one’s memory by her scornful ways.’
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1
tardy
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| adj.缓慢的，迟缓的 | |
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ushered
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| v.引，领，陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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languor
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| n.无精力，倦怠 | |
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lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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ponderous
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| adj.沉重的，笨重的，(文章)冗长的 | |
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sate
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| v.使充分满足 | |
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scrap
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| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
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gilding
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| n.贴金箔，镀金 | |
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drooped
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| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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ivy
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| n.常青藤，常春藤 | |
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binding
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| 有约束力的，有效的，应遵守的 | |
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solely
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| adv.仅仅，唯一地 | |
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tablecloth
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| n.桌布，台布 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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habitual
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| adj.习惯性的；通常的，惯常的 | |
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bracelet
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| n.手镯，臂镯 | |
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taper
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| n.小蜡烛，尖细，渐弱；adj.尖细的；v.逐渐变小 | |
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ornament
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| v.装饰，美化；n.装饰，装饰物 | |
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tightened
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| 收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）变紧； （使）绷紧； 加紧 | |
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unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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breach
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| n.违反，不履行；破裂；vt.冲破，攻破 | |
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untoward
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| adj.不利的，不幸的，困难重重的 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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betokening
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| v.预示，表示( betoken的现在分词 ) | |
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eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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penetrate
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| v.透(渗)入；刺入，刺穿；洞察，了解 | |
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enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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subservient
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| adj.卑屈的，阿谀的 | |
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marvels
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| n.奇迹( marvel的名词复数 )；令人惊奇的事物（或事例）；不平凡的成果；成就v.惊奇，对…感到惊奇( marvel的第三人称单数 ) | |
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quotation
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| n.引文，引语，语录；报价，牌价，行情 | |
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longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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grandeur
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| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
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toiling
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| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的现在分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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grooves
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| n.沟( groove的名词复数 )；槽；老一套；（某种）音乐节奏v.沟( groove的第三人称单数 )；槽；老一套；（某种）音乐节奏 | |
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clogged
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| （使）阻碍( clog的过去式和过去分词 )； 淤滞 | |
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aspersion
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| n.诽谤，中伤 | |
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vehemence
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| n.热切；激烈；愤怒 | |
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gambling
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| n.赌博；投机 | |
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requisite
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| adj.需要的，必不可少的；n.必需品 | |
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countenances
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| n.面容( countenance的名词复数 )；表情；镇静；道义支持 | |
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sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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injustice
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| n.非正义，不公正，不公平，侵犯（别人的）权利 | |
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collapsing
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| 压扁[平]，毁坏，断裂 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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52
yearning
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| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
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passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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meddled
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| v.干涉，干预（他人事务）( meddle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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outlay
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| n.费用，经费，支出；v.花费 | |
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inert
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| adj.无活动能力的，惰性的；迟钝的 | |
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odiousness
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| n.可憎；讨厌；可恨 | |
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machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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warehouse
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| n.仓库；vt.存入仓库 | |
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dictating
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| v.大声讲或读( dictate的现在分词 )；口授；支配；摆布 | |
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unlimited
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| adj.无限的，不受控制的，无条件的 | |
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simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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smothered
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| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的过去式和过去分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
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glut
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| n.存货过多，供过于求；v.狼吞虎咽 | |
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hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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meddler
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| n.爱管闲事的人，干涉者 | |
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prudent
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| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
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improvidence
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| n.目光短浅 | |
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exertions
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| n.努力( exertion的名词复数 )；费力；（能力、权力等的）运用；行使 | |
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decency
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| n.体面，得体，合宜，正派，庄重 | |
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piqued
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| v.伤害…的自尊心( pique的过去式和过去分词 )；激起（好奇心） | |
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haughty
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| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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disapproval
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| n.反对，不赞成 | |
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straightforward
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| adj.正直的，坦率的；易懂的，简单的 | |
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interpretation
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| n.解释，说明，描述；艺术处理 | |
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illustrated
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| adj. 有插图的，列举的 动词illustrate的过去式和过去分词 | |
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momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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rudiments
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| n.基础知识，入门 | |
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zest
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| n.乐趣；滋味，风味；兴趣 | |
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pedant
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| n.迂儒；卖弄学问的人 | |
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narration
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| n.讲述，叙述；故事；记叙体 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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blotted
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| 涂污( blot的过去式和过去分词 )； （用吸墨纸）吸干 | |
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