Feeling uncomfortable with the forbidding silence in the room, Margaret discreetly assessed their recently arrived guests. Mrs Thornton with her stern face and impeccable dress (albeit mourning attire) sat sipping her tea looking disapprovingly at her surrounds. Her daughter, with her huge starched petticoat and hoops shrouded in multicolored frills, puffs and lace seemed like she wanted to talk but held back as if awaiting her mother's cue.

Margaret could tell that her own mother, the former Beresford belle of the county, who was used to navigating social situations, found this particular company one of the most challenging yet. Mrs Thornton's resentment at being in their home at the request of her son was evident.

'Mrs Thornton, please allow me to compliment you on your lace. Such English pointwork has not been available for many years. I presume it is an heirloom?' Margaret felt relieved that her mother had broken the ice with sincere praise.

'Yes Mrs Hale. You clearly have an eye for quality,' said Mrs Thornton, returning a compliment. 'This was my Great Grandmother's. It was passed to me by my mother.' She returned to sipping her tea with no further attempt at extending the conversation.

Searching for another topic, Mrs Hale settled on seeking a recommendation from Mrs Thornton regarding a servant to assist Dixon.

Now happy that her mother was engaged in a lengthy conversation with Mrs Hale, Fanny finally spoke. 'I suppose you are not musical as I see no piano?'

Margaret almost laughed at Fanny's very frank and mildly insensitive comment. She appeared to be around her own age yet seemed younger somehow. Margaret calculated that Fanny would have been a little girl when her father died so probably remembered little of the struggles that Mr Thornton and his mother endured in the years after. She probably only knew the comforts of her current life.

'No, we sold ours before we moved to Milton.' Margaret watched as Fanny gasped in pity. 'Oh, it was of no importance. I did not play well anyway. I always seemed to find other things to do when I was meant to be practicing.' Margaret grinned at her own joke, but the meaning seemed to escape Fanny.

'What do you do with your time then Miss Hale? A piano almost seems a necessity of life to me.' Margaret could see that Fanny found her indifference to musical proficiency difficult to comprehend.

'A great many things. I like to read, and to draw. When I was at home in Helstone I would often go out with my father and visit the poor or the aged in their homes and try to be useful to them in any way I could.' Margaret observed Fanny's expression of disgust at the thought of servitude. 'However, I actually spent a good deal of my growing up in London. I lived with my Aunt in Harley Street. My cousin Edith and I took our lessons together…'

'You lived in London?' exclaimed a wide-eyed Fanny. 'London and the Alhambra are the two places I long to see. But Mamma refuses to take me. She has never left Milton in her life and doesn't understand my longing to explore new places.'

Fanny had lived an even more sheltered life than herself thought Margaret. 'Well perhaps your brother would accompany you if you asked him? He seems to take a very keen interest in the world.'

'John?' Fanny sulked. 'John would never take me to London. All he can think about is cotton and machines and looms. I'm sure he has never had a thought enter his head that did not involve Marlborough Mill.'

'I am sure that is not true, Miss Thornton. Perhaps you just need to find the right opportunity to bring it up.' Margaret smiled sympathetically at Fanny.

Just then Mrs Thornton announced their departure. 'Well Fanny, I think it is time that we left Mrs and Miss Hale to their needlework. Thank you for your hospitality Mrs Hale. We shall see ourselves out.'

As they turned to go, Fanny impetuously added, 'Miss Hale, do you think you could come to Marlborough Street to visit with us tomorrow? I desire to hear more about your life in London, and perhaps we can brush up on your piano skills? I have a new tune I can play for you. I will have John send the carriage for you at 10 o'clock.'

Margaret looked to her mother who was equally surprised by the invitation. 'Ah..that is very kind of you Miss Thornton. I would be delighted to spend more time with you, only there is no need to send a carriage. I would prefer to walk the short distance to the mill.'

Mrs Thornton, observing the conversation now intervened. 'Short distance Miss Hale? It is nearly two miles. Surely Mrs Hale you do not allow your daughter to gallivant around Milton in such a brazen manner?' Mrs Thornton did not wait for an answer to her question. 'No Miss Hale, if my daughter insists on allowing you to fill her head with frivolous tales of London, then you will arrive by carriage and that is that.' Mrs Thornton turned on her heel with Fanny scurrying behind with an anxious smile.

Margaret and her mother looked at each other with relief that the visit was over.

Later that evening Mr Hale enquired after his wife and daughter's meeting with John's relation.

'Mrs Thornton looked very handsome in her mourning clothes,' said Mrs Hale. 'I suspect she comes from a good family, although we were unable to find out very much about her history.'

Margaret smiled at her mother's subtlety. 'Mamma, you are being too kind. Mrs Thornton hardly said a word Papa, and when she did she was almost uncivil. She made it painfully clear she did not want to be here. Her daughter Fanny was amiable enough. Although I'm afraid she has an unpleasing immaturity about her.'

Mr Hale admired his daughter's clarity of mind, but wondered whether she might be too hasty in her judgments at times. 'Margaret, Mrs Thornton has had a difficult life. She probably had little opportunity to go into society. It is possible that she and her daughter are just not as practiced at making the acquaintance of strangers as you would like them to be.'

'For someone who has had a difficult life my dear, I do agree that she is uncommonly proud and condescending,' said Mrs Hale.

'I fancy Mrs. Thornton is as haughty and proud in her way, as our little Margaret here is in hers, and that she completely ignores that old time of trial, and poverty, and economy... I am sure, at any rate, she would not like strangers to know anything about it.'

'Take notice that is not my kind of haughtiness, papa, if I have any at all; which I don't agree to, though you're always accusing me of it.'

'Well my dear, I think that you should give your relationship with the Thornton women a chance to develop. In time you might find you have more in common with them than you think. I know John felt confident that you would all benefit from the companionship.' Mr Hale quietly hoped he was correct in this assessment.

'I thank Mr Thornton for his… consideration. But I think I have spent all the time I want to in the company of Mrs and Miss Thornton,' said Margaret emphatically.

'Margaret dear, I don't think you will have any choice in the matter now. You do recall that you committed to spending the morning with Miss Thornton tomorrow?' Mrs Hale reminded.

Margaret chewed her lip in irritation. 'Oh that's right. But there must be some way I can excuse myself from visiting with the Thornton's? Mrs Thornton detests me, her son finds my opinions disagreeable, and his sister..well whilst I don't dislike Miss Thornton, I do think that we are unlikely to find so much in common as to become firm friends. Personally I believe she has been wholly spoiled and sheltered by her brother and mother; perhaps in some admirable but misguided attempt to protect her from their own struggles and hardships.'

'That may be true Margaret,' said Mr Hale. 'But if that is the case, don't you think she would benefit from spending time with good company. If indeed she is naive to or unaffected by the plight of others, perhaps your influence could be of benefit to her character.'

'You flatter me Papa,' said Margaret.

'I am quite serious Margaret. "Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven."'

'Margaret will do the right thing my dear,' said Mrs Hale to her husband. 'We can always be assured of that. Now, if you will excuse me, I think I will retire for the evening.'

'I will see you upstairs, my love.' Mr Hale helped his wife stand and tucked her arm tenderly under his. 'Margaret, Mr Thornton is a good man, I am sure his family has more virtues than you currently give them credit for.' Mr and Mrs Hale left Margaret to her thoughts.