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第63章 CHAPTER XIX ANGEL VISITS (3)

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       masters, as well as of men, must go down into ruin, and be no moreseen among the ranks of the happy and prosperous. He spoke as if thisconsequence were so entirely logical, that neither employers noremployed had any right to complain if it became their fate: theemployer to turn aside from the race he could no longer run, with abitter sense of incompetency and failure--wounded in the struggle-trampleddown by his fellows in their haste to get rich--slighted wherehe once was honoured--humbly asking for, instead of bestowing,employment with a lordly hand. Of course, speaking so of the fate that,as a master, might be his own in the fluctuations of commerce, he wasnot likely to have more sympathy with that of the workmen, who werepassed by in the swift merciless improvement or alteration who wouldfain lie down and quietly die out of the world that needed them not, butfelt as if they could never rest in their graves for the clinging cries ofthe beloved and helpless they would leave behind; who envied thepower of the wild bird, that can feed her young with her very heart\"sblood. Margaret\"s whole soul rose up against him while he reasoned inthis way--as if commerce were everything and humanity nothing. Shecould hardly, thank him for the individual kindness, which brought himthat very evening to offer her--for the delicacy which made himunderstand that he must offer her privately--every convenience forillness that his own wealth or his mother\"s foresight had caused them toaccumulate in their household, and which, as he learnt from Dr.
     
       Donaldson, Mrs. Hale might possibly require. His presence, after theway he had spoken--his bringing before her the doom, which she wasvainly trying to persuade herself might yet be averted from her mother-allconspired to set Margaret\"s teeth on edge, as she looked at him, andlistened to him. What business had he to be the only person, except Dr.
     
       Donaldson and Dixon, admitted to the awful secret, which she held shutup in the most dark and sacred recess of her heart--not daring to look atit, unless she invoked heavenly strength to bear the sight--that, someday soon, she should cry aloud for her mother, and no answer wouldcome out of the blank, dumb darkness? Yet he knew all. She saw it inhis pitying eyes. She heard it in his grave and tremulous voice. Howreconcile those eyes, that voice, with the hard-reasoning, dry, mercilessway in which he laid down axioms of trade, and serenely followed themout to their full consequences? The discord jarred upon herinexpressibly. The more because of the gathering woe of which sheheard from Bessy. To be sure, Nicholas Higgins, the father, spokedifferently. He had been appointed a committee-man, and said that heknew secrets of which the exoteric knew nothing. He said this moreexpressly and particularly, on the very day before Mrs. Thornton\"sdinner-party, when Margaret, going in to speak to Bessy, found him
     
       arguing the point with Boucher, the neighbour of whom she hadfrequently heard mention, as by turns exciting Higgins\"s compassion, asan unskilful workman with a large family depending upon him forsupport, and at other times enraging his more energetic and sanguineneighbour by his want of what the latter called spirit. It was veryevident that Higgins was in a passion when Margaret entered. Boucherstood, with both hands on the rather high mantel-piece, swaying himselfa little on the support which his arms, thus placed, gave him, andlooking wildly into the fire, with a kind of despair that irritated Higgins,even while it went to his heart. Bessy was rocking herself violentlybackwards and forwards, as was her wont (Margaret knew by this time)when she was agitated, Her sister Mary was tying on her bonnet (ingreat clumsy bows, as suited her great clumsy fingers), to go to herfustian-cutting, blubbering out loud the while, and evidently longing tobe away from a scene that distressed her.
     
       Margaret came in upon this scene. She stood for a moment at the door-then,her finger on her lips, she stole to a seat on the squab near Bessy.
     
       Nicholas saw her come in, and greeted her with a gruff, but notunfriendly nod. Mary hurried out of the house catching gladly at theopen door, and crying aloud when she got away from her father\"spresence. It was only John Boucher that took no notice whatever whocame in and who went out.
     
       \"It\"s no use, Higgins. Hoo cannot live long a\" this\"n. Hoo\"s just sinkingaway--not for want o\" meat hersel\"--but because hoo cannot stand th\"
     
     
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