"Margaret Burns," he observed, sharply, "you are a fool, and I am a still greater fool not to let you rush on your fate. However, I am not going to do it; so just make up your mind to stay here."
With that he rose, took the paper for which he had come back, and left me, bidding me not to forget that "Chaos and Creation."
He did not come back for three days, which I spent alone in Thornton
House. It rained from morning until night, and I felt dull and miserable.
I passed the best part of my time in the study, reading; and there my
grandfather found me on his return.
The afternoon was not far gone, and the weather seemed inclined to improve. The rain had ceased; yellow streaks of sunlight pierced the gray sky, and lit up the wet park. I sat by the window, through which streamed in a doubtful light; a book lay on my lap unread, and with my two hands clasped upon it, and my head low bent, I was absorbed in a waking dream, when the sound of the opening door roused me. I looked up, and saw Mr. Thornton, in his travelling dress, standing on the threshold, his two hands resting on the head of his cane, his eyes attentively fixed upon me. I said something about his return, and rose. He did not answer, but came in slowly, and began taking off his great coat; then suddenly pausing in the operation, he turned to me, and said abruptly:
"What is it about?"
"What, Sir?" I asked, astonished.
"That you are crying for?"
I hung down my head, and did not reply.
"Has anything or any one annoyed you, whilst I was away?" he asked, in the same short way.
"No. Sir."