{"id":293,"date":"2021-05-20T12:57:19","date_gmt":"2021-05-20T16:57:19","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.ryerson.ca\/northandsouth\/chapter\/chapter-xii\/"},"modified":"2022-02-03T10:47:26","modified_gmt":"2022-02-03T15:47:26","slug":"12","status":"publish","type":"chapter","link":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/northandsouth\/chapter\/12\/","title":{"raw":"Chapter XII: Morning calls","rendered":"Chapter XII: Morning calls"},"content":{"raw":"
\"Well\u2014I suppose we must.\"\r\nFriends In Council.<\/span><\/blockquote>\r\nMr. Thornton had had some difficulty in working up his mother to the desired point of civility. She did not often make calls; and when she did, it was in heavy state that she went through her duties. Her son had given her a carriage; but she refused to let him keep horses for it; they were hired for the solemn occasions, when she paid morning or evening visits. She had had horses for three days, not a fortnight before, and had comfortably \u201ckilled off\u201d all her acquaintances, who might now put themselves to trouble and expense in their turn. Yet Crampton was too far off for her to walk; and she had repeatedly questioned her son as to whether his wish that she should call on the Hales was strong enough to bear the expense of cab-hire. She would have been thankful if it had not; for, as she said, \u201cshe saw no use in making up friendships and intimacies with all the teachers and masters in Milton; why, he would be wanting her to call on Fanny's dancing-master's wife, the next thing!\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cAnd so I would, mother, if Mr. Mason and his wife were friendless in a strange place, like the Hales.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cOh! you need not speak so hastily. I am going to-morrow. I only wanted you exactly to understand about it.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cIf you are going to-morrow, I shall order horses.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cNonsense, John. One would think you were made of money.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cNot quite, yet. But about the horses I'm determined. The last time you were out in a cab, you came home with a headache from the jolting.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cI never complained of it, I'm sure.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cNo. My mother is not given to complaints,\u201d said he, a little proudly. \u201cBut so much the more I have to watch over you. Now as for Fanny there, a little hardship would do her good.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cShe is not made of the same stuff as you are, John. She could not bear it.\u201d Mrs. Thornton was silent after this; for her last words bore relation to a subject which mortified her. She had an unconscious contempt for a weak character; and Fanny was weak in the very points in which her mother and brother were strong. Mrs. Thornton was not a woman much given to reasoning; her quick judgment and firm resolution served her in good stead of any long arguments and discussions with herself; she felt instinctively that nothing could strengthen Fanny to endure hardships patiently, or face difficulties bravely; and though she winced as she made this acknowledgment to herself about her daughter, it only gave her a kind of pitying tenderness of manner towards her; much of the same description of demeanour with which mothers are wont to treat their weak and sickly children. A stranger, a careless observer might have considered that Mrs. Thornton's manner to her children betokened far more love to Fanny than to John. But such a one would have been deeply mistaken. The very daringness with which mother and son spoke out unpalatable truths, the one to the other, showed a reliance on the firm centre of each other's souls, which the uneasy tenderness of Mrs. Thornton's manner to her daughter, the shame with which she thought to hide the poverty of her child in all the grand qualities which she herself possessed unconsciously, and which she set so high a value upon in others\u2014this shame, I say, betrayed the want of a secure resting-place for her affection. She never called her son by any name but John; \u201clove,\u201d and \u201cdear,\u201d and such like terms, were reserved for Fanny. But her heart gave thanks for him day and night; and she walked proudly among women for his sake.\r\n\r\n\u201cFanny dear I shall have horses to the carriage to-day, to go and call on these Hales. Should not you go and see nurse? It's in the same direction, and she's always so glad to see you. You could go on there while I am at Mrs. Hale's.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cOh! mamma, it's such a long way, and I am so tired.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cWith what?\u201d asked Mrs. Thornton, her brow slightly contracting.\r\n\r\n\u201cI don't know\u2014the weather, I think. It is so relaxing. Couldn't you bring nurse here, mamma? The carriage could fetch her, and she could spend the rest of the day here, which I know she would like.\u201d\r\n\r\nMrs. Thornton did not speak; but she laid her work on the table, and seemed to think.\r\n\r\n\u201cIt will be a long way for her to walk back at night!\u201d she remarked, at last.\r\n\r\n\u201cOh, but I will send her home in a cab. I never thought of her walking.\u201d\r\n\r\nAt this point, Mr. Thornton came in, just before going to the mill.\r\n\r\n\u201cMother! I need hardly say, that if there is any little thing that could serve Mrs. Hale as an invalid, you will offer it, I'm sure.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cIf I can find it out, I will. But I have never been ill myself, so I am not much up to invalids' fancies.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cWell! here is Fanny then, who is seldom without an ailment. She will be able to suggest something, perhaps\u2014won't you, Fan?\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cI have not always an ailment,\u201d said Fanny, pettishly; \u201cand I am not going with mamma. I have a headache to-day, and I shan't go out.\u201d\r\n\r\nMr. Thornton looked annoyed. His mother's eyes were bent on her work, at which she was now stitching away busily.\r\n\r\n\u201cFanny! I wish you to go,\u201d said he, authoritatively. \u201cIt will do you good, instead of harm. You will oblige me by going, without my saying anything more about it.\u201d\r\n\r\nHe went abruptly out of the room after saying this.\r\n\r\nIf he had staid a minute longer, Fanny would have cried at his tone of command, even when he used the words, \u201cYou will oblige me.\u201d As it was, she grumbled.\r\n\r\n\u201cJohn always speaks as if I fancied I was ill, and I am sure I never do fancy any such thing. Who are these Hales that he makes such a fuss about?\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cFanny, don't speak so of your brother. He has good reasons of some kind or other, or he would not wish us to go. Make haste and put your things on.\u201d\r\n\r\nBut the little altercation between her son and her daughter did not incline Mrs. Thornton more favourably towards \u201cthese Hales.\u201d Her jealous heart repeated her daughter's question, \u201cWho are they, that he is so anxious we should pay them all this attention?\u201d It came up like a burden to a song, long after Fanny had forgotten all about it in the pleasant excitement of seeing the effect of a new bonnet in the looking-glass.\r\n\r\nMrs. Thornton was shy. It was only of late years that she had had leisure enough in her life to go into society; and as society she did not enjoy it. As dinner-giving, and as criticising other people's dinners, she took satisfaction in it. But this going to make acquaintance with strangers was a very different thing. She was ill at ease, and looked more than usually stern and forbidding as she entered the Hales' little drawing-room.\r\n\r\nMargaret was busy embroidering a small piece of cambric for some little article of dress for Edith's expected baby\u2014\u201cFlimsy, useless work,\u201d as Mrs. Thornton observed to herself. She liked Mrs. Hale's double knitting far better; that was sensible of its kind. The room altogether was full of knick-knacks, which must take a long time to dust; and time to people of limited income was money.\r\n\r\nShe made all these reflections as she was talking in her stately way to Mrs. Hale, and uttering all the stereotyped commonplaces that most people can find to say with their senses blindfolded. Mrs. Hale was making rather more exertion in her answers, captivated by some real old lace which Mrs. Thornton wore; \u201clace,\u201d as she afterwards observed to Dixon, \u201cof that old English point which has not been made for this seventy years, and which cannot be bought. It must have been an heir-loom, and shows that she had ancestors.\u201d So the owner of the ancestral lace became worthy of something more than the languid exertion to be agreeable to a visitor, by which Mrs. Hale's efforts at conversation would have been otherwise bounded. And presently, Margaret, racking her brain to talk to Fanny, heard her mother and Mrs. Thornton plunge into the interminable subject of servants.\r\n\r\n\u201cI suppose you are not musical,\u201d said Fanny, \u201cas I see no piano.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cI am fond of hearing good music; I cannot play well myself; and papa and mamma don't care much about it; so we sold our old piano when we came here.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cI wonder how you can exist without one. It almost seems to me a necessary of life.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cFifteen shillings a week, and three saved out of them!\u201d thought Margaret to herself \u201cBut she must have been very young. She probably has forgotten her own personal experience. But she must know of those days.\u201d Margaret's manner had an extra tinge of coldness in it when she next spoke.\r\n\r\n\u201cYou have good concerts here, I believe.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cOh, yes! Delicious! Too crowded, that is the worst. The directors admit so indiscriminately. But one is sure to hear the newest music there. I always have a large order to give to Johnson's, the day after a concert.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cDo you like new music simply for its newness, then?\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cOh; one knows it is the fashion in London, or else the singers would not bring it down here. You have been in London, of course.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cYes,\u201d said Margaret, \u201cI have lived there for several years.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cOh! London and the Alhambra are the two places I long to see!\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cLondon and the Alhambra!\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cYes! ever since I read the\u00a0Tales of the Alhambra<\/a>. Don't you know them?\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cI don't think I do. But surely, it is a very easy journey to London.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cYes; but somehow,\u201d said Fanny, lowering her voice, \u201cmamma has never been to London herself, and can't understand my longing. She is very proud of Milton; dirty, smoky place, as I feel it to be. I believe she admires it the more for those very qualities.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cIf it has been Mrs. Thornton's home for some years, I can well understand her loving it,\u201d said Margaret, in her clear bell-like voice.\r\n\r\n\u201cWhat are you saying about me, Miss Hale? May I inquire?\u201d\r\n\r\nMargaret had not the words ready for an answer to this question, which took her a little by surprise, so Miss Thornton replied:\r\n\r\n\u201cOh, mamma! we are only trying to account for your being so fond of Milton.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cThank you,\u201d said Mrs. Thornton. \u201cI do not feel that my very natural liking for the place where I was born and brought up,\u2014and which has since been my residence for some years, requires any accounting for.\u201d\r\n\r\nMargaret was vexed. As Fanny had put it, it did seem as if they had been impertinently discussing Mrs. Thornton's feelings; but she also rose up against that lady's manner of showing that she was offended.\r\n\r\nMrs. Thornton went on after a moment's pause:\r\n\r\n\u201cDo you know anything of Milton, Miss Hale? Have you seen any of our factories? our magnificent warehouses?\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cNo!\u201d said Margaret. \u201cI have not seen anything of that description as yet. Then she felt that, by concealing her utter indifference to all such places, she was hardly speaking with truth; so she went on:\r\n\r\n\u201cI dare say, papa would have taken me before now if I had cared. But I really do not find much pleasure in going over manufactories.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cThey are very curious places,\u201d said Mrs. Hale, \u201cbut there is so much noise and dirt always. I remember once going in a lilac silk to see candles made, and my gown was utterly ruined.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cVery probably,\u201d said Mrs. Thornton, in a short displeased manner. \u201cI merely thought, that as strangers newly come to reside in a town which has risen to eminence in the country, from the character and progress of its peculiar business, you might have cared to visit some of the places where it is carried on; places unique in the kingdom, I am informed. If Miss Hale changes her mind and condescends to be curious as to the manufactures of Milton, I can only say I shall be glad to procure her admission to print-works, or reed-making, or the more simple operations of spinning carried on in my son's mill. Every improvement of machinery is, I believe, to be seen there, in its highest perfection.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cI am so glad you don't like mills and manufactories, and all those kind of things,\u201d said Fanny, in a half-whisper, as she rose to accompany her mother, who was taking leave of Mrs. Hale with rustling dignity.\r\n\r\n\u201cI think I should like to know all about them, if I were you,\u201d replied Margaret quietly.\r\n\r\n\u201cFanny!\u201d said her mother, as they drove away, \u201cwe will be civil to these Hales: but don't form one of your hasty friendships with the daughter. She will do you no good, I see. The mother looks very ill, and seems a nice, quiet kind of person.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cI don't want to form any friendship with Miss Hale, mamma,\u201d said Fanny, pouting. \u201cI thought I was doing my duty by talking to her, and trying to amuse her.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cWell! at any rate John must be satisfied now.\u201d","rendered":"

“Well\u2014I suppose we must.”
\nFriends In Council.<\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Mr. Thornton had had some difficulty in working up his mother to the desired point of civility. She did not often make calls; and when she did, it was in heavy state that she went through her duties. Her son had given her a carriage; but she refused to let him keep horses for it; they were hired for the solemn occasions, when she paid morning or evening visits. She had had horses for three days, not a fortnight before, and had comfortably \u201ckilled off\u201d all her acquaintances, who might now put themselves to trouble and expense in their turn. Yet Crampton was too far off for her to walk; and she had repeatedly questioned her son as to whether his wish that she should call on the Hales was strong enough to bear the expense of cab-hire. She would have been thankful if it had not; for, as she said, \u201cshe saw no use in making up friendships and intimacies with all the teachers and masters in Milton; why, he would be wanting her to call on Fanny’s dancing-master’s wife, the next thing!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd so I would, mother, if Mr. Mason and his wife were friendless in a strange place, like the Hales.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh! you need not speak so hastily. I am going to-morrow. I only wanted you exactly to understand about it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf you are going to-morrow, I shall order horses.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNonsense, John. One would think you were made of money.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot quite, yet. But about the horses I’m determined. The last time you were out in a cab, you came home with a headache from the jolting.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI never complained of it, I’m sure.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo. My mother is not given to complaints,\u201d said he, a little proudly. \u201cBut so much the more I have to watch over you. Now as for Fanny there, a little hardship would do her good.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe is not made of the same stuff as you are, John. She could not bear it.\u201d Mrs. Thornton was silent after this; for her last words bore relation to a subject which mortified her. She had an unconscious contempt for a weak character; and Fanny was weak in the very points in which her mother and brother were strong. Mrs. Thornton was not a woman much given to reasoning; her quick judgment and firm resolution served her in good stead of any long arguments and discussions with herself; she felt instinctively that nothing could strengthen Fanny to endure hardships patiently, or face difficulties bravely; and though she winced as she made this acknowledgment to herself about her daughter, it only gave her a kind of pitying tenderness of manner towards her; much of the same description of demeanour with which mothers are wont to treat their weak and sickly children. A stranger, a careless observer might have considered that Mrs. Thornton’s manner to her children betokened far more love to Fanny than to John. But such a one would have been deeply mistaken. The very daringness with which mother and son spoke out unpalatable truths, the one to the other, showed a reliance on the firm centre of each other’s souls, which the uneasy tenderness of Mrs. Thornton’s manner to her daughter, the shame with which she thought to hide the poverty of her child in all the grand qualities which she herself possessed unconsciously, and which she set so high a value upon in others\u2014this shame, I say, betrayed the want of a secure resting-place for her affection. She never called her son by any name but John; \u201clove,\u201d and \u201cdear,\u201d and such like terms, were reserved for Fanny. But her heart gave thanks for him day and night; and she walked proudly among women for his sake.<\/p>\n

\u201cFanny dear I shall have horses to the carriage to-day, to go and call on these Hales. Should not you go and see nurse? It’s in the same direction, and she’s always so glad to see you. You could go on there while I am at Mrs. Hale’s.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh! mamma, it’s such a long way, and I am so tired.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWith what?\u201d asked Mrs. Thornton, her brow slightly contracting.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don’t know\u2014the weather, I think. It is so relaxing. Couldn’t you bring nurse here, mamma? The carriage could fetch her, and she could spend the rest of the day here, which I know she would like.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mrs. Thornton did not speak; but she laid her work on the table, and seemed to think.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt will be a long way for her to walk back at night!\u201d she remarked, at last.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, but I will send her home in a cab. I never thought of her walking.\u201d<\/p>\n

At this point, Mr. Thornton came in, just before going to the mill.<\/p>\n

\u201cMother! I need hardly say, that if there is any little thing that could serve Mrs. Hale as an invalid, you will offer it, I’m sure.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf I can find it out, I will. But I have never been ill myself, so I am not much up to invalids’ fancies.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell! here is Fanny then, who is seldom without an ailment. She will be able to suggest something, perhaps\u2014won’t you, Fan?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI have not always an ailment,\u201d said Fanny, pettishly; \u201cand I am not going with mamma. I have a headache to-day, and I shan’t go out.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mr. Thornton looked annoyed. His mother’s eyes were bent on her work, at which she was now stitching away busily.<\/p>\n

\u201cFanny! I wish you to go,\u201d said he, authoritatively. \u201cIt will do you good, instead of harm. You will oblige me by going, without my saying anything more about it.\u201d<\/p>\n

He went abruptly out of the room after saying this.<\/p>\n

If he had staid a minute longer, Fanny would have cried at his tone of command, even when he used the words, \u201cYou will oblige me.\u201d As it was, she grumbled.<\/p>\n

\u201cJohn always speaks as if I fancied I was ill, and I am sure I never do fancy any such thing. Who are these Hales that he makes such a fuss about?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFanny, don’t speak so of your brother. He has good reasons of some kind or other, or he would not wish us to go. Make haste and put your things on.\u201d<\/p>\n

But the little altercation between her son and her daughter did not incline Mrs. Thornton more favourably towards \u201cthese Hales.\u201d Her jealous heart repeated her daughter’s question, \u201cWho are they, that he is so anxious we should pay them all this attention?\u201d It came up like a burden to a song, long after Fanny had forgotten all about it in the pleasant excitement of seeing the effect of a new bonnet in the looking-glass.<\/p>\n

Mrs. Thornton was shy. It was only of late years that she had had leisure enough in her life to go into society; and as society she did not enjoy it. As dinner-giving, and as criticising other people’s dinners, she took satisfaction in it. But this going to make acquaintance with strangers was a very different thing. She was ill at ease, and looked more than usually stern and forbidding as she entered the Hales’ little drawing-room.<\/p>\n

Margaret was busy embroidering a small piece of cambric for some little article of dress for Edith’s expected baby\u2014\u201cFlimsy, useless work,\u201d as Mrs. Thornton observed to herself. She liked Mrs. Hale’s double knitting far better; that was sensible of its kind. The room altogether was full of knick-knacks, which must take a long time to dust; and time to people of limited income was money.<\/p>\n

She made all these reflections as she was talking in her stately way to Mrs. Hale, and uttering all the stereotyped commonplaces that most people can find to say with their senses blindfolded. Mrs. Hale was making rather more exertion in her answers, captivated by some real old lace which Mrs. Thornton wore; \u201clace,\u201d as she afterwards observed to Dixon, \u201cof that old English point which has not been made for this seventy years, and which cannot be bought. It must have been an heir-loom, and shows that she had ancestors.\u201d So the owner of the ancestral lace became worthy of something more than the languid exertion to be agreeable to a visitor, by which Mrs. Hale’s efforts at conversation would have been otherwise bounded. And presently, Margaret, racking her brain to talk to Fanny, heard her mother and Mrs. Thornton plunge into the interminable subject of servants.<\/p>\n

\u201cI suppose you are not musical,\u201d said Fanny, \u201cas I see no piano.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI am fond of hearing good music; I cannot play well myself; and papa and mamma don’t care much about it; so we sold our old piano when we came here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI wonder how you can exist without one. It almost seems to me a necessary of life.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFifteen shillings a week, and three saved out of them!\u201d thought Margaret to herself \u201cBut she must have been very young. She probably has forgotten her own personal experience. But she must know of those days.\u201d Margaret’s manner had an extra tinge of coldness in it when she next spoke.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou have good concerts here, I believe.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, yes! Delicious! Too crowded, that is the worst. The directors admit so indiscriminately. But one is sure to hear the newest music there. I always have a large order to give to Johnson’s, the day after a concert.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you like new music simply for its newness, then?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh; one knows it is the fashion in London, or else the singers would not bring it down here. You have been in London, of course.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes,\u201d said Margaret, \u201cI have lived there for several years.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh! London and the Alhambra are the two places I long to see!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLondon and the Alhambra!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes! ever since I read the\u00a0Tales of the Alhambra<\/a>. Don’t you know them?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don’t think I do. But surely, it is a very easy journey to London.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes; but somehow,\u201d said Fanny, lowering her voice, \u201cmamma has never been to London herself, and can’t understand my longing. She is very proud of Milton; dirty, smoky place, as I feel it to be. I believe she admires it the more for those very qualities.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf it has been Mrs. Thornton’s home for some years, I can well understand her loving it,\u201d said Margaret, in her clear bell-like voice.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are you saying about me, Miss Hale? May I inquire?\u201d<\/p>\n

Margaret had not the words ready for an answer to this question, which took her a little by surprise, so Miss Thornton replied:<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, mamma! we are only trying to account for your being so fond of Milton.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThank you,\u201d said Mrs. Thornton. \u201cI do not feel that my very natural liking for the place where I was born and brought up,\u2014and which has since been my residence for some years, requires any accounting for.\u201d<\/p>\n

Margaret was vexed. As Fanny had put it, it did seem as if they had been impertinently discussing Mrs. Thornton’s feelings; but she also rose up against that lady’s manner of showing that she was offended.<\/p>\n

Mrs. Thornton went on after a moment’s pause:<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you know anything of Milton, Miss Hale? Have you seen any of our factories? our magnificent warehouses?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo!\u201d said Margaret. \u201cI have not seen anything of that description as yet. Then she felt that, by concealing her utter indifference to all such places, she was hardly speaking with truth; so she went on:<\/p>\n

\u201cI dare say, papa would have taken me before now if I had cared. But I really do not find much pleasure in going over manufactories.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThey are very curious places,\u201d said Mrs. Hale, \u201cbut there is so much noise and dirt always. I remember once going in a lilac silk to see candles made, and my gown was utterly ruined.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cVery probably,\u201d said Mrs. Thornton, in a short displeased manner. \u201cI merely thought, that as strangers newly come to reside in a town which has risen to eminence in the country, from the character and progress of its peculiar business, you might have cared to visit some of the places where it is carried on; places unique in the kingdom, I am informed. If Miss Hale changes her mind and condescends to be curious as to the manufactures of Milton, I can only say I shall be glad to procure her admission to print-works, or reed-making, or the more simple operations of spinning carried on in my son’s mill. Every improvement of machinery is, I believe, to be seen there, in its highest perfection.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI am so glad you don’t like mills and manufactories, and all those kind of things,\u201d said Fanny, in a half-whisper, as she rose to accompany her mother, who was taking leave of Mrs. Hale with rustling dignity.<\/p>\n

\u201cI think I should like to know all about them, if I were you,\u201d replied Margaret quietly.<\/p>\n

\u201cFanny!\u201d said her mother, as they drove away, \u201cwe will be civil to these Hales: but don’t form one of your hasty friendships with the daughter. She will do you no good, I see. The mother looks very ill, and seems a nice, quiet kind of person.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don’t want to form any friendship with Miss Hale, mamma,\u201d said Fanny, pouting. \u201cI thought I was doing my duty by talking to her, and trying to amuse her.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell! at any rate John must be satisfied now.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":299,"menu_order":12,"template":"","meta":{"pb_show_title":"on","pb_short_title":"","pb_subtitle":"","pb_authors":[],"pb_section_license":""},"chapter-type":[48],"contributor":[],"license":[],"class_list":["post-293","chapter","type-chapter","status-publish","hentry","chapter-type-numberless"],"part":3,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/northandsouth\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/293","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/northandsouth\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/northandsouth\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/chapter"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/northandsouth\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/299"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/northandsouth\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/293\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":513,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/northandsouth\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/293\/revisions\/513"}],"part":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/northandsouth\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/parts\/3"}],"metadata":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/northandsouth\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/293\/metadata\/"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/northandsouth\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=293"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"chapter-type","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/northandsouth\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapter-type?post=293"},{"taxonomy":"contributor","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/northandsouth\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/contributor?post=293"},{"taxonomy":"license","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/northandsouth\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/license?post=293"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}