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Gaskell, Elizabeth Cleghorn, 1810-1865

"Mary Barton"


"Ay, ay, Mary! thou'rt looking a bit different to when I saw thee
last. Thou'lt give Jem and me good characters for sick nurses, I
trust. If all trades fail, I'll turn to that. Jem's place is for
life, I reckon. Nay, never redden so, lass. You and he know each
other's minds by this time!"
Margaret held her hand, and gently smiled into her face.
Job Legh took the candle up, and began a leisurely inspection.
"Thou hast gotten a bit of pink in thy cheeks,--not much; but when
last I see thee, thy lips were as white as a sheet. Thy nose is
sharpish at th' end; thou'rt more like thy father than ever thou
wert before. Lord! child, what's the matter? Art thou going to
faint?"
For Mary had sickened at the mention of that name; yet she felt that
now or never was the time to speak.
"Father's come home!" she said, "but he's very poorly; I never saw
him as he is now before. I asked Jem not to come near him for fear
it might fidget him."
She spoke hastily, and (to her own idea) in an unnatural manner.
But they did not seem to notice it, nor to take the hint she had
thrown out of company being unacceptable; for Job Legh directly put
down some insect, which he was impaling on a corking-pin, and
exclaimed--
"Thy father come home! Why, Jem never said a word of it! And
ailing too! I'll go in, and cheer him with a bit of talk.


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