They came in sight of the river. Mary shuddered.
"O Jem! take me home. Yon river seems all made of glittering,
heaving, dazzling metal, just as it did when I began to be ill."
Jem led her homewards. She dropped her head as searching for
something on the ground.
"Jem!" He was all attention. She paused for an instant. "When may
I go home? To Manchester, I mean. I am so weary of this place; and
I would fain be at home."
She spoke in a feeble voice; not at all impatiently, as the words
themselves would seem to intimate, but in a mournful way, as if
anticipating sorrow even in the very fulfilment of her wishes.
"Darling! we will go whenever you wish; whenever you feel strong
enough. I asked Job to tell Margaret to get all in readiness for
you to go there at first. She'll tend you and nurse you. You must
not go home. Job proffered for you to go there."
"Ah! but I must go home, Jem. I'll try and not fail now in what's
right. There are things we must not speak on" (lowering her voice),
"but you'll be really kind if you'll not speak against my going
home.
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