Mr. Thornton left the house without coming into the dining-room again, as he was rather late. Anxious not to give unintentional insult his new friend, he walked particularly hurriedly toward Crampton. He was escorted into the little drawing room; Mr. Hale's generous greeting was in contrast to his wife's cold one; Mrs. Hale, however, had the evident excuse of illness, with her drawn and pallid face, and excessive coverings.

As the darkness of evening was upon them, Margaret was occupied in lighting the lamp. 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 drooped wreaths of English ivy, pale-green birch, and copper-colored beech-leaves. Pretty baskets of work stood about in different places and books, not cared for on account of their binding solely, lay on one table, as if recently put down. Behind the door was another table, decked out for tea, with a white tablecloth, 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 graceful cares were habitual to the family; and especially of a piece with Margaret. She stood by the tea-table in a light-colored 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 bracelet on one taper arm, which would fall down over her round wrist. Mr. Thornton watched the replacing of this troublesome ornament 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 tightened her soft flesh; and then to mark the loosening-the fall. He could almost have exclaimed-'There it goes, again!'

His disappointment was acute when the preparation had passed and the consuming of the delightfully placed items was obligatory. Once her duty was completed – the tea and cakes had been appropriately handed round – Margaret withdrew to a chair at some distance from her father and his guest. The men were speaking and, as their conversation progressed, she could not but note the contrast in appearance of the two.

Mr. Hale, though a gentleman, had an almost feminine air about him; it was in the manner of his slight figure and his rather delicate features of countenance. Mr. Thornton, however, gave an impression of earnestness and great decisiveness, until he smiled, which expression caused him to look positively open and joyous. Margaret rather liked this smile and wondered what else about Mr. Thornton was quite so interesting and unexpected. She fell back into her own thoughts - as completely forgotten by Mr. Thornton as if she had not been in the room, so thoroughly 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 subservient 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 realization 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 marvels 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."'

'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 grandeur of conception. I would rather be a man toiling, suffering-nay, failing and lacking success-here, than lead a dull prosperous life in the old worn grooves of what you call more aristocratic society down in the South, with their slow days of careless ease. One may be clogged with honey and unable to rise and fly.'

'You are mistaken,' said Margaret, roused by the aspersion on her beloved South to a fond vehemence of defense, that brought the color 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 gambling spirit of trade, which seems requisite to force out these wonderful inventions, there is less suffering also. I see men here 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 countenances of a sullen sense of injustice which I see here. You do not know the South, Mr. Thornton,' she concluded,

'And may I say you do yet not know the North?' asked he, with an inexpressible gentleness in his tone, as he saw that he had really hurt her. Margaret kept her eyes down as she wished to hide the tears that were waiting, unshed, called up by her passionate rebuttal.

'At any rate, Mr. Thornton,' said Mrs. Hale, 'you will allow that Milton is a much smokier, 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.'

'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 their cleverness, as regarded opportunities and probabilities, which distinguished some, and made them far-seeing as to what great future lay concealed in that rude model of the mechanical spinning frame. 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 warehouse at noon each day; therefore, that all purchasers must come before that hour. Fancy a man dictating 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 felt compelled to listen and lifted her head to watch Mr. Thornton, curious as to what was coming next. Mr. Thornton glanced at her momentarily and continued.

'I only name such things to show what almost unlimited 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 simplicity were often utterly smothered under the glut 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. 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 meddler 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 prudent wisdom and good conduct are always opposed to, and doing battle with ignorance and improvidence. 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 exertions and behavior; that, in fact, everyone who rules himself to decency 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.'

'Do you then say that you consider those who are unsuccessful in raising themselves in the world as your enemies?' Margaret asked with no little curiosity.

'As their own enemies, certainly,' replied Mr. Thornton. But he felt that his answer was a poor one and wished to explain but to best illustrate 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 momentary flush of color into his dark cheek, he said: 'I am not speaking without reason. Sixteen years ago, my father died under very miserable 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 blessed 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 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 worthy of my hatred; I simply look upon them with contempt for their poorness of character.'

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 and Margaret was as yet unused to it. She began to bow her farewell but saw his hand half put out, quickly drawn back. She looked inquiringly at Mr. Thornton and asked benignly, 'I am accustomed to bow but you seem to be inclined to shake hands. Is this commonplace in the North?' She put forward her hand to show a willingness to accommodate.

Mr. Thornton was shocked into silence at her admission and gravely shook her outstretched hand. It was the first time their hands had touched but only Mr. Thornton appeared aware of this fact.