North and South · Chapter 15 (3/3)

“That is a great admission,” said Margaret, laughing. “When I see men violent and obstinate, in pursuit of their rights, I may safely infer that the master is the same; that he is a little ignorant of that spirit which suffereth long, and is kind, and seeketh not her own.”

“You are just like all strangers who don’t understand the working of our system, Miss Hale,” said he, hastily. “You suppose that our men are puppets of dough, ready to be moulded into any amiable form we please. You forget we have only to do with them for less than a third of their lives; and you seem not to perceive that the duties of a manufacturer are far larger and wider than those merely of an employer of labour: we have a wide commercial character to maintain, which makes us into the great pioneers of civilisation.”

“It strikes me,” said Mr. Hale, smiling, “that you might pioneer a little at home. They are a rough, heathenish set of fellows, these Milton men of yours.”

“They are that,” replied Mr. Thornton. “Rose-water surgery won’t do for them. Cromwell would have made a capital mill-owner, Miss Hale. I wish we had him to put down this strike for us.”

“Cromwell is no hero of mine,” she said, coldly. “But I am trying to reconcile your admiration of despotism with your respect for other men’s independence of character.”

He reddened at her tone. “I choose to be the unquestioned and irresponsible master of my hands, during the hours they labour for me. But those hours past, our relation ceases; and then comes in the same respect for their independence that I myself exact.”

He did not speak again for a minute, he was too much vexed. But he shook it off, and bade Mr. and Mrs. Hale good night. Then, drawing near to Margaret, he said in a lower voice⁠—

“I spoke hastily to you once this evening, and I am afraid, rather rudely. But you know I am but an uncouth Milton manufacturer; will you forgive me?”

“Certainly,” said she, smiling up in his face, the expression of which was somewhat anxious and oppressed, and hardly cleared away as he met her sweet sunny countenance, out of which all the north-wind effect of their discussion had entirely vanished. But she did not put out her hand to him, and again he felt the omission, and set it down to pride.