But I Was Right. I

Wearily She Went To Bed, Wearily She Arose In Four Or Five Hours' Time. But With The Morning Came Hope, And A Brighter View Of Things.

How Was It That He Haunted Her Imagination So Persistently? What Could It Be? Why Did She Care For What He Thought, In Spite Of All Her Pride In Spite Of Herself? She Believed That She Could Have Borne The Sense Of Almighty Displeasure, Because He Knew All, And Could Read Her Penitence, And Hear Her Cries For Help In Time To Come. But Mr.thornton-why Did She Tremble, And Hide Her Face In The Pillow? What Strong Feeling Had Overtaking Her At Last?

She Thought In Would Be Awkward For Both To Be Brought Into Conscious Collision; And Fancied That, From Her Being On A Low Seat At First, And Now Standing Behind Her Father, He Had Overlooked Her In His Haste. As If He Did Not Feel The Consciousness Of Her Presence All Over, Though His Eyes Had Never Rested On Her!

Loyalty And Obedience To Wisdom And Justice Are Fine; But It Is Still Finer To Defy Arbitrary Power, Unjustly And Cruelly Used--not On Behalf Of Ourselves, But On Behalf Of Others More Helpless.

Mr. Thornton Felt That In This Influx No One Was Speaking To Margaret, And Was Restless Under This Apparent Neglect. But He Never Went Near Her Himself; He Did Not Look At Her. Only, He Knew What She Was Doing — Or Not Doing — Better Than Anyone Else In The Room. Margaret Was So Unconscious Of Herself, And So Much Amused By Watching Other People, That She Never Thought Whether She Was Left Unnoticed Or Not.