After such a wakeful night, Margaret slept late, rising only as Dixon entered to draw the curtains.

'Good morning Miss Margaret. You must have needed your sleep. I hope you are not coming down with anything. I wouldn't want the Mistress catching any new ills on top of what she already has.'

Margaret sat up and rubbed her tired eyes. 'No Dixon, I just did not sleep well last night. I am well. I assure you my mother is in no danger from me.'

As Dixon later helped Margaret dress she remarked, 'Mistress looks well this morning. When I left her she was sitting up and sipping tea. And reading her post she was. The potions that Dr Donaldson gave her certainly have worked wonders. She even has colour back in her cheeks.'

Margaret considered Dixon's words and felt a swell of determination. After tossing and turning for much of the early hours, Margaret finally decided that she would write to her Aunt Shaw to ask for assistance – even if it meant risking her father's anger.

'Where is Papa?'

'Last I saw he was in the dining room, eating his breakfast and reading the newspaper.'

'Thank you Dixon, I will be down for breakfast shortly. I would just like to say good morning to my Mother first.'

Satisfied that Miss Margaret was ready for the day, Dixon left to start on the linen.

As Margaret opened the door to her mother's bedroom, she was struck by how bright and alive her mother looked.

'Good morning Mamma. You look well this morning."' Margaret leaned over to kiss her mother's cheek before taking a seat in the wooden dining chair that had kept vigil beside the bed since Mrs Hale fell ill.

Mrs Hale reached out to take Margaret's hand. 'I do feel better today Margaret. My spasms have been quite carried away. In fact I think if I continue to do so well I might dress and sit in the drawing room in time for the afternoon sun to warm me.' Mrs Hale mused, 'At least in this climate there is some benefit to the windows being full west.'

Margaret frowned. 'Just promise me you will not overdo things Mamma. Perhaps I should speak to Dr Donaldson first?'

Mrs Hale reproached her daughter for fussing. 'Please Margaret, permit me a few indulgences. Dixon will see I am all right. She loves me.'

'I love you too Mamma. It's just that I worry about you. I do not want you to do anything that might make your condition worse.'

Mrs Hale reached out and rubbed Margaret's cheek. 'Of course my dear. But you must see that some time out of this room will do my spirit - if not my broken down body – a great deal of good.'

Margaret nodded and kissed her mother's hand. Looking over at the side table she saw this morning's discarded post. 'Who were your letters from this morning?'

'Oh, yes I meant to tell you - I received a letter from your Aunt Shaw.'

Margaret was enthused to hear more. 'What news? I mean, what news does she send of Edith?'

Mrs Hale smiled. 'You know your Aunt Shaw. She rather enjoys the romance of Edith's marriage for love – perhaps even more than Edith does I think. She describes your cousin's life in Corfu as all sunshine and grapes. It does not surprise me therefore that she has decided to go to Greece for the summer. I suppose she also wants to be there in time for Edith's confinement.'

Margaret did a quick mental calculation in her head and felt relief, 'So Aunt Shaw shouldn't be leaving England then for another month?'

'According to her letter she was leaving at once.'

Margaret felt panic rise up. 'Where is she going? Did she give particular details as to her plans?'

'She just said she intends to visit with some friends of the Admiral in Spain first - but she did not elaborate.' Mrs Hale looked at her daughter quizzically. 'You seem anxious my dear. Are you homesick for Aunt Shaw? I am sure we could arrange for you to go and stay with her for a spell once Edith returns to London. I am sure your father will not object.'

Margaret could not help but detect the suggestion that her mother would no longer be with them to sanction such a visit. Calming herself so as not to alarm her mother she said, 'Of course not Mamma. I am not interested in being anywhere else in the world than right here in Milton with you and Papa.'

Mrs Hale's tone became solemn. 'I see where your thoughts are Margaret.'

Margaret's heart jumped in her chest. It would be unlike her father to discuss his concerns regarding the Apothecary bill so openly with her mother. 'What do you mean Mamma?'

'You are concerned that you may need to contact your Aunt soon – when the time comes. Do not worry yourself with such pointless thoughts my dear. Your Aunt will not be able to help me once I am gone. I am sure you will do your best and that is all anyone can ask of you.' With these words Mrs Hale began to cry.

Margaret lay her head on her mother's breast in an attempt to console her. Instead Mrs Hale broke down even more with long, racking sobs.

'But, Margaret, if I am to die—if I am one of those appointed to die before many weeks are over—I must see my child first. I cannot think how it must be managed; but I charge you, Margaret, as you yourself hope for comfort in your last illness, bring him to me that I may bless him. Only for five minutes, Margaret. There could be no danger in five minutes. Oh, Margaret, let me see him before I die!'

Margaret did not think of anything that might be utterly unreasonable in this speech: we do not look for reason or logic in the passionate entreaties of those who are sick unto death; we are stung with the recollection of a thousand slighted opportunities of fulfilling the wishes of those who will soon pass away from among us: and do they ask us for the future happiness of our lives, we lay it at their feet, and will it away from us. But this wish of Mrs. Hale's was so natural, so just, so right to both parties, that Margaret felt as if, on Frederick's account as well as on her mother's, she ought to overlook all intermediate chances of danger, and pledge herself to do everything in her power for its realisation. The large, pleading, dilated eyes were fixed upon her wistfully, steady in their gaze, though the poor white lips quivered like those of a child. Margaret gently rose up and stood opposite to her frail mother; so that she might gather the secure fulfilment of her wish from the calm steadiness of her daughter's face.

'Mamma, I will write to-night, and tell Frederick what you say. I am as sure that he will come directly to us, as I am sure of my life.'

'Thank you my darling Margaret. You are better to me than I deserve.'

'But I will need to discuss it with Papa – I need to ask him how best to do it.'

Mrs Hale, though frail as she was, grabbed Margaret's forearm as if to prevent her from taking such an action. 'No Margaret. You must do this without your father's knowledge. If you mention your plan he will surely try to stop you out of fear for Frederick.' Mrs Hale's began to weep again. 'Please do not delay, do not deny me this last wish!'

'Be easy, mamma, you shall see him as far as anything earthly can be promised.'

Mrs Hale released Margaret's arm and fell back on to the pillow. Taking a deep breath she closed her eyes. She did not happen to notice the strain and worry that occupied Margaret's lovely face.

Margaret her mother's request was beyond her own will to refuse. She would do whatever was in her power to fulfill her promise to her mother. Whatever it took.

'I will leave you now Mamma and go down for breakfast. Can I bring you anything back?'

'No,my dear. I will rest now and think of Frederick.' Opening her eyes again to wipe away the last vestiges of her tears, she pleaded to Margaret in an almost childlike way, 'You will write to him today?'

'Yes Mamma.'

With her mother seemingly calmed, Margaret left the small room and made her way down the stairs. She was quite lost in her own thoughts when she entered the dining room and was surprised to find her father still sitting at the breakfast table.

'Good morning my pretty maid. Did you sleep well? You are up late this morning?'

'Yes Papa, although I have just come from sitting with my mother. Can I refresh your tea Papa?'

'Yes my dear, thank you. How is your mother?'

Margaret finished pouring their tea before sitting down and reaching for some of Dixon's freshly baked bread. 'She is without pain still, and wishes to come down to the drawing room this afternoon. I have tried to persuade her to stay in bed and rest.'

'Let her do as she wishes my dear. Dixon will take care of her.'

'That is exactly what she said.' Margaret hated that her own authority and influence in her mother's life should be usurped by Dixon. Sometimes it seemed to forgotten that Dixon was just a servant in their house.

Spreading her bread with jam and cutting it into quarters, Margaret wondered at how to broach the topic of last night. 'Papa?'

'Mmm yes, my dear?'

'Mamma had a letter from Aunt Shaw today. It says that she has sailed for the continent. But she has not given any particulars as to her whereabouts – other than to say that she will be with Edith in 6 weeks time.'

Mr Hale looked up from his newspaper as if waiting for her to continue.

Margaret swallowed and braced herself. 'I confess I had rather hoped to write to her and beg her assistance…'

Mr Hale shifted in his seat. 'Margaret you know how I feel about that. I cannot believe you would knowingly defy me in such a manner.'

'Papa, you must see that Aunt Shaw is our only hope for paying for Mamma's treatment. Treatment which may prolong her life?'

Mr Hale sat silent looking into his tea cup.

'I think it is a mute point now anyway. Even if we were to try and trace Aunt Shaw's movements – it could take weeks to find her – and I am not sure we have the luxury of time.' Margaret's face reflected her despair.

Mr Hale could not seem to meet his daughter's eyes. He nodded solemnly. 'We have so few possessions after our move to Milton, I don't suppose there is anything we could auction to raise the money?'

Margaret looked around at their sparse furniture. What was left was probably not fit to be sold. Their lack of valuable possessions was probably a godsend given the size and state of their house. In hindsight Margaret thought they were quite lucky to have secured this lease. There were far worse parts of town. Mr Bell's advice to her father had been sound.

Just then a marvelous thought occurred to her. 'What about my Godfather – Mr Bell. I know he helped you find work and get settled in Milton. I think he would be willing to lend us the money?' Margaret wondered why she had not thought of him before.

Mr Hale looked up from his daze. 'Do you think Margaret?' Mr Hale sounded doubtful. 'I mean do you think it is right for me to ask more of a friend who has already done so much for us?'

'Oh Father, it is a mark of your respectability and honor that you should not want to burden a friend. But if Mr Bell is the man that I suspect he is…Well what if the position was reversed? Would you not do this for him?'

Mr Hale paused to think before finally sighing in resignation. 'You're right of course Margaret. I will write to him today. I only hope I can reach him. Like your Aunt he travels a good deal at this time of year – although mostly for business.' Mr Hale, with hope returning to his eyes then said, 'The other person I was considering asking was Mr Thornton.'

Margaret felt heat rush to her face. Her father clearly counted Mr Thornton amongst his friends. He could not know about her refusal of Mr Thornton's marriage proposal: or of the vehement manner with which she delivered it. Margaret doubted Mr Thornton would even consider assisting her family after that. 'But we hardly know him, Papa. No I think it is far better that we seek help from those with whom we have closer bonds. I think writing to Mr Bell is the right course.' Margaret chewed her lip and began thinking about when they might receive a response from Mr Bell. 'How long can we afford to wait Papa? How long will this supply of opiates from the Apothecary last?'

Mr Hale shrugged. 'A week? Dr Donaldson is not sure. There is one more dose in the current batch. We can only wait to see how long it is until she descends into fever and restlessness.'

Margaret felt frightened – she had not realised that the situation was so dire and so urgent. Her father's idleness and uncertainty began to anger her. She needed him to be strong and resolute. She needed him to tell her that he would take care of them. All her life she had accepted and overlooked his weaknesses out of loyalty and respect. Today they almost repulsed her.

'Do you think perhaps then you should go to Oxford tomorrow to see Mr Bell in person?' Margaret urged. She began to clear the dishes lest her father notice her growing frustration.

'I suppose I could. If you think that would be best?'

'Yes father. I do think that is best. You could return on the evening train. I can go with you if you like?'

'No Margaret. I think it best you stay with your Mother. You give her great comfort, you know.'

'Thank you Papa. I try.' Margaret, stood to head to the kitchen.

'What about you my dear? What are you going to do today?'

Margaret's lip threatened to tremble at the thought of writing to Frederick. She bit hard before saying, 'Nothing of consequence Papa. I have some letters to write, and then I think I shall visit Bessie if Mamma does not need me.'

Mr Hale smiled at his daughter. 'Good, good. Very well.'

Margaret carried the dishes towards the kitchen, fear and worry still pressing down heavily on her young heart.