A Man Is So In The Way

It Seems Strange To Think, That What Gives Us Most Hope For The Future Should Be Called Dolores, Said Margaret.

Trust A Girl Of Sixteen For Knowing Well If She Is Pretty; Concerning Her Plainness She May Be Ignorant.

He Had Tenderness In His Heart — ‘a Soft Place,’ As Nicholas Higgins Called It; But He Had Some Pride In Concealing It; He Kept It Very Sacred And Safe, And Was Jealous Of Every Circumstance That Tried To Gain Admission. But If He Dreaded Exposure Of His Tenderness, He Was Equally Desirous That All Men Should Recognize His Justice; And He Felt That He Had Been Unjust, In Giving So Scornful A Hearing To Anyone Who Had Waited, With Humble Patience, For Five Hours, To Speak To Him.

Mr. Thornton Felt That In This Influx No One Was Speaking To Margaret, And Was Restless Under This Apparent Neglect. But He Never Went Near Her Himself; He Did Not Look At Her. Only, He Knew What She Was Doing — Or Not Doing — Better Than Anyone Else In The Room. Margaret Was So Unconscious Of Herself, And So Much Amused By Watching Other People, That She Never Thought Whether She Was Left Unnoticed Or Not.

There Is Always A Pleasure In Unravelling A Mystery, In Catching At The Gossamer Clue Which Will Guide To Certainty.