When Margaret arrived home from the Thorntons', there was a letter waiting for her from Aunt Shaw. There were still a few months left of the social season in London. With Edith away in Corfu with her new husband, Aunt Shaw had written to beg Margaret's return to Harley Street - for at least a month - to call on friends and acquaintances and accompany her to parties and events.
Under ordinary circumstances Margaret would never have considered leaving Milton and more especially her parents so soon after their settling in. But with her recent endeavor to befriend Fanny, Margaret felt that Aunt Shaw's invitation might be the perfect opportunity to expose Fanny to new company as well as fulfill her dream to go to London.
Perhaps she would speak to Mr Thornton about it on Thursday during their tour of the mill. Whilst Margaret felt that Mrs Thornton did not look upon her friendship with Fanny favourably, it did seem that Mr Thornton was going out of his way to encourage it. If Margaret was not mistaken, Mr Thornton had even implied that she was doing them a favour by spending time with Fanny.
Margaret was a little surprised that Mr Thornton should think so highly of her given the difficult start to their relationship. They had quarreled when he came to tea. She had assumed too much about him and all but accused him of being a member of the bourgeoisie. Margaret realized her error once she heard his account of overcoming financial adversity through diligence and self-denial. She particularly found his tender respect for his mother very fine. But Margaret was still angered by his contempt for those that remained in the working class just because they lacked his iron nature and the capabilities that elevated his own situation. More infuriating was that a man in Mr Thornton's position of power and influence did not see it as his duty to assist these poor people to change, or to educate them as to how they could better help themselves.
Margaret knew that her father had come to respect Mr Thornton in their short acquaintance. He had said that Mr Thornton had a natural intellect despite a lack of formal education. If that was true, she pondered, then surely Mr Thornton could be made to see reason and alter his approach to his workers, at least in due course? Margaret decided that she would make an effort to get to know Mr Thornton better - for her father's sake.
Margaret wondered whether she might be biting off more than she could chew to try and correct the attitudes of two Thorntons at once! Still, Thursday would provide her the opportunity to better guage Mr Thornton's views, after which she could decide whether she still did not like him and if indeed he was a lost cause.
Margaret laughed at her own conceit. She had to concede that Mr Thornton was handsome. Not like a conventional London gentleman, but in a masculine, dynamic, Northern way. She couldn't help envisioning the endearing picture of him standing in the doorway of the piano room, looking unkempt, applauding her singing with a smudge of grease on on his nose. Oh it was a pity that such a handsome smile should be tainted by such incorrect opinions!
Margaret remembered the letter in her hand and determined she should speak with her parents before responding to Aunt Shaw. Margaret went to find her mother, only to be told by Dixon that she had lay down to rest awhile.
'Is she unwell Dixon? Does she have a headache?' asked Margaret, concerned that the move to Milton was taking its toll on her Mother. There had been other signs of something wrong about Mrs. Hale. Margaret had witnessed Dixon exiting her mother's room last week crying and upset. Mrs Hale was not of a strong constitution normally, and was prone to restlessness and depression at times.
'Oh you know how she can be Margaret. Do not worry yourself. A little rest and there will be pink in her cheeks again.' Dixon continued on with her dusting. Margaret would speak to her mother later.
The following morning, after helping Dixon starch some linens, Margaret sat down next to her mother in her favourite chair. 'I am no longer Peggy the laundry maid Mamma, but Margaret Hale the lady.' Margaret had intended this as a joke but her mother became distressed.
'If I had known when I was Miss Beresford, the belle of the county, that a daughter of mine would be standing all day doing laundry work and my son would be have a price on his head, marked as a traitor …Oh, Margaret, it is all too difficult for me to bear.' Mrs Hale broke into tears.
Margaret put her arm around her mother and tried to sooth her. 'Mama, it was a joke. I really don't mind doing any work for you and Papa. Please do not be upset at my careless words.' Margaret wondered at her mother's severe reaction. 'Are you unwell Mamma? I mean, you do not seem yourself..'
'I am perfectly well my dear. It is just these horrid east winds and the unrelenting grey skies. I miss the warmth of the sun. I miss Helstone.' Mrs Hale sighed.
Margaret in a teasing tone then said, 'But when you were in Helstone Mamma you missed London.' Margaret took her mother's hands and gave them a playful squeeze. Compared to her own small fingers Mrs Hale's seemed fragile and bony. 'Mamma, I have some news which may cheer you up. Aunt Shaw has invited me to stay with her for a month of the social season in London. Now I know Papa will not be interested, but do you think you would like to accompany me? I thought I might write to Aunt Shaw to suggest I also bring Fanny Thornton. It is her dearest wish to go to London. As well I thought it would please Papa to see me advance my friendship with Fanny.'
'That is a very charitable thought my dear. I think you should go ahead and write to your Aunt Shaw as planned. Only, do not accept the invitation on my behalf. As you know, I do not care to travel in the warmer weather. I should much prefer to stay here with your father.' Mrs Hale's voice caught in her throat as she said this.
'Are you sure Mamma. I would not want to leave you if you are in need of me.' Margaret tried to understand the sadness in her mother's eyes.
'No Margaret, I want you to go. With all of my heart. I will look forward to hearing all about the soirees, the clothes and the music.' Mrs Hale reached up to stroke Margaret's hair. 'Oh to be young and pretty again.'
'You are still young and pretty Mamma.' Margaret hugged her mother. She needed some way to raise her spirits. 'Mamma, do you remember how we would eat pears from the vine for dessert in Helstone? What if I go to the market now and purchase us the finest that Milton has to offer? I'm sure Papa would like that too. We could even eat them with our hands in the old way.'
'Thank you Margaret. I am particularly partial to fresh fruit of late. But send Dixon. She probably has other errands to run,' said Mrs Hale, still sensitive about Margaret taking on the tasks of a servant.
'No Mamma. I would like to go myself. You know how I like to walk.'
Margaret set out for the market carrying Dixon's weather beaten basket, wearing her favourite and very faithful straw hat. Even in her day clothes Margaret looked fetching. The healthy glow of her youthful skin, illuminated by the exercise, made her look every part the English rose. The heads of passers by would turn, but Margaret was not conscious of this. Her only thoughts were of her family, her mother in particular.
She certainly did not notice the boy, loitering in the lane. Barely fourteen, his face was covered in dirt, his clothes were soiled and his were feet bare. Margaret's small coin purse was visible in Dixon's basket. There were few others about.
Margaret suddenly heard the guttural outcry of man. Margaret turned to see a man in workers clothes, catch hold of the boy and wrench what looked to be her own coin purse from his hands. Margaret ran towards them, not sure what she was witnessing.
The man, holding on to the boy looked to Margaret and said, 'I believe this is yours miss. The young street rat just stole it. It should be all there miss. I don't think he had time to pocket any.'
'Let me go, she 'as it back!' The young boy struggled in the man's arms.
The man eyed him. 'Are you hungry boy?'
'What?'
Are you hungry? When was the last time ye ate?' He held the boy tight not easing his grip as he waited for an answer.
'I dunno, yesterday some time. I had luncheon with the Queen herself.' The boy looked flushed.
'If you can keep your hands out of pockets for the day you can eat with my kin this night. 9 Francis Street, just past the Goulden Dragon. Now get on with yo.' And with that he let the lad go.
Margaret still dazed by what had happened pulled a coin from her purse and offered it to the man who had just come to her aid.
Holding up his hand he said, 'No charge miss.'
Margaret smiled briefly and nodded, not wanting to insult the man by insisting he take it.
'You're not from around here are you miss? Otherwise yo' would know not to tempt the pick pockets by so careless placement of your purse.'
Margaret blushed. 'No I am from the south. I don't often have cause to carry coins. I was going to the market.' Margaret thought she sounded quite silly. 'My name is Margaret Hale. What is your name sir? I mean, who am I to be thanking for this service?'
The man smirked. 'It's Nicholas Higgins.' He turned to look behind him and beckoned a plain looking girl with a pale, sickly countenance. 'And this here is Bessy, my daughter.'
Margaret smiled and bowed her head at the girl. 'Mr Higgins, do you really mean to have that boy come to your home for dinner this evening? Does it not bother you that he is a common thief? What is he was to steal from you while he is in your province?'
Nicholas Higgins laughed. 'It is hard to steal from those who have little to take miss.' He looked in the direction that the boy ran off. 'I doubt he will come, but if he does I hope to influence him towards honest work for honest pay.'
Margaret had already begun to admire her new friend. 'Where do you work sir?'
At Hamper's mill. Bessy works at Marlborough.
Margaret's interest in Bessy was peaked by this revelation. 'Do you enjoy your work Bessy? Do you like working at Marlborough Mill?'
'Like is a strong word miss.' Bessy giggled. 'But the conditions are better.' Margaret couldn't help but notice Bessy wheeze as she spoke. 'Less fluff on my lungs on account of the wheel. I used to be at Hampers but my father moved me when I got sick.' Clearly fluff on the lung was irreversible.
'Well come along Bessy. I am sure we shall see this lady's bonny face again. She knows where we live.' Nicholas ushered Bessy along.
Margaret smiled and waved when Bessy looked back at her.
