Mistakes Cleared Up

'Your beauty was the first that won the place,
And scal'd the walls of my undaunted heart,
Which, captive now, pines in a caitive case,
Unkindly met with rigour for desert;--
Yet not the less your servant shall abide,
In spite of rude repulse or silent pride.'
WILLIAM FOWLER.

The next morning, Margaret dragged herself up, thankful that the
night was over,--unrefreshed, yet rested. All had gone well
through the house; her mother had only wakened once. A little
breeze was stirring in the hot air, and though there were no
trees to show the playful tossing movement caused by the wind
among the leaves, Margaret knew how, somewhere or another, by
way-side, in copses, or in thick green woods, there was a
pleasant, murmuring, dancing sound,--a rushing and falling noise,
the very thought of which was an echo of distant gladness in her
heart.

She sat at her work in Mrs. Hale's room. As soon as that forenoon
slumber was over, she would help her mother to dress after
dinner, she would go and see Bessy Higgins. She would banish all
recollection of the Thornton family,--no need to think of them
till they absolutely stood before her in flesh and blood. But, of
course, the effort not to think of them brought them only the
more strongly before her; and from time to time, the hot flush
came over her pale face sweeping it into colour, as a sunbeam
from between watery clouds comes swiftly moving over the sea.