She smiled a grim smile, for she had been pleased by Margaret’s frankness; and perhaps she felt that she had been asking questions too much as if she had a right to catechise. Margaret laughed outright at the notion presented to her; laughed so merrily that it grated on Mrs. Thornton’s ear, as if the words that called forth that laugh, must have been utterly and entirely ludicrous.
Margaret stopped her merriment as soon as she saw Mrs. Thornton’s annoyed look.
“I beg your pardon, madam. But I really am very much obliged to you for exonerating me from making any plans on Mr. Thornton’s heart.”
“Young ladies have, before now,” said Mrs. Thornton, stiffly.
“I hope Miss Thornton is well,” put in Mr. Hale, desirous of changing the current of the conversation.
“She is as well as she ever is. She is not strong,” replied Mrs. Thornton, shortly.
“And Mr. Thornton? I suppose I may hope to see him on Thursday?”
“I cannot answer for my son’s engagements. There is some uncomfortable work going on in the town; a threatening of a strike. If so, his experience and judgment will make him much consulted by his friends. But I should think he could come on Thursday. At any rate, I am sure he will let you know if he cannot.”
“A strike!” asked Margaret. “What for? What are they going to strike for?”
“For the mastership and ownership of other people’s property,” said Mrs. Thornton, with a fierce snort. “That is what they always strike for. If my son’s work-people strike, I will only say they are a pack of ungrateful hounds. But I have no doubt they will.”