Margaret took up a pen and scrawled with trembling hand, "Margaret Hale is not the girl to say him nay." In her weak state she could not think of any other words, and yet she was vexed to use these. But she was so much fatigued even by this slight exertion, that if she could have thought of another form of acceptance, she could not have sate up to write a syllable of it. She was obliged to lie down again, and try not to think.
"My dearest child! Has that letter vexed or troubled you?"
"No!" said Margaret feebly. "I shall be better when to-morrow is over."
"I feel sure, darling, you won't be better till I get you out of this horrid air. How you can have borne it this two years I can't imagine."
"Where could I go to? I could not leave papa and mamma."
"Well! don't distress yourself, my dear. I dare say it was all for the best, only I had no conception of how you were living. Our butler's wife lives in a better house than this."
"It is sometimes very pretty—in summer; you can't judge by what it is now. I have been very