Bentinck said the Coercion Bill was ‘a second Curfew

time:2023-12-05 07:17:32 source:Tears down the net author:meat

Margaret resolved to keep silence. After all, what did it signify where they went, compared to the one terrible change?

Bentinck said the Coercion Bill was ‘a second Curfew

Mr. Hale continued: ‘A few months ago, when my misery of doubt became more than I could bear without speaking, I wrote to Mr. Bell — you remember Mr. Bell, Margaret?’

Bentinck said the Coercion Bill was ‘a second Curfew

‘No; I never saw him, I think. But I know who he is. Frederick’s godfather — your old tutor at Oxford, don’t you mean?’

Bentinck said the Coercion Bill was ‘a second Curfew

‘Yes. He is a Fellow of Plymouth College there. He is a native of Milton-Northern, I believe. At any rate, he has property there, which has very much increased in value since Milton has become such a large manufacturing town. Well, I had reason to suspect — to imagine — I had better say nothing about it, however. But I felt sure of sympathy from Mr. Bell. I don’t know that he gave me much strength. He has lived an easy life in his college all his days. But he has been as kind as can be. And it is owing to him we are going to Milton.’

‘Why he has tenants, and houses, and mills there; so, though he dislikes the place — too bustling for one of his habits — he is obliged to keep up some sort of connection; and he tells me that he hears there is a good opening for a private tutor there.’

‘A private tutor!’ said Margaret, looking scornful: ‘What in the world do manufacturers want with the classics, or literature, or the accomplishments of a gentleman?’

‘Oh,’ said her father, ‘some of them really seem to be fine fellows, conscious of their own deficiencies, which is more than many a man at Oxford is. Some want resolutely to learn, though they have come to man’s estate. Some want their children to be better instructed than they themselves have been. At any rate, there is an opening, as I have said, for a private tutor. Mr. Bell has recommended me to a Mr. Thornton, a tenant of his, and a very intelligent man, as far as I can judge from his letters. And in Milton, Margaret, I shall find a busy life, if not a happy one, and people and scenes so different that I shall never be reminded of Helstone.’

There was the secret motive, as Margaret knew from her own feelings. It would be different. Discordant as it was — with almost a detestation for all she had ever heard of the North of England, the manufacturers, the people, the wild and bleak country — there was this one recommendation — it would be different from Helstone, and could never remind them of that beloved place.


recommended content