"Mrs and Miss Thornton to see you, Miss Hale," Mary announced the next day.
Margaret looked up from her sketchbook.
This was unexpected. Margaret had begun to believe that Mr Thornton's mother did not regard a humble schoolmaster's family as worthy of her acquaintance. Which only went to show how insignificant and of little consequence she and her father were in Milton. But whatever could be the reason for a visit now? Margaret suspected that Mr Thornton must have asked his mother to do so. After last night, he must have realised that she didn't have any proper friends in Milton. She couldn't decide if she was offended by the implication or grateful for his thoughtfulness. Probably, a bit of both.
"Have you shown them to the drawing room?" Margaret asked, closing her sketchbook and putting back her pencils.
"Yes."
"Ask cook to prepare tea and some biscuits."
Margaret had to admit that she was more than a little curious about Mr Thornton's mother. Bessie had said that Mrs Thornton was a formidable lady but Margaret was not afraid or impressed. Her own Dixon was quite a formidable woman. Dixon could make grown men cower and had successfully chased off half a dozen of Margaret's undesirable suitors back in Helstone. Margaret had lived with Dixon her entire life and had survived unscathed and stronger; an hour in the company of Mrs Thornton would be a walk in the park.
But Margaret had not known about the sister. It was hard to imagine Mr Thornton with a sibling; him as a young boy. Frankly, it was hard to imagine him as anything but as he was now. Tall, proud and with that direct gaze. And with that temper. Margaret smoothed her skirt and checked her hair. She went downstairs quickly, not wanting to keep her guests waiting.
One look at Mrs Thornton and it was clear where her son got his proud bearing and scowl from. She was wearing a gown of black silk and sat erect with her hands folded neatly in her lap. Upon Margaret's entrance, both rose from the sofa. Mrs Thornton was rather tall.
"Mrs Thornton," Margaret bobbed her head in a small curtsy.
"Miss Hale," Hannah said with a slight tilt of her head.
"Miss Thornton," Margaret nodded her head.
"Miss Hale." Fanny did the same.
The sister didn't look at all like Mr Thornton. While the mother and son were all about composure, the sister was full of quick movements. She was pretty with bright eyes and wore an obviously expensive and fashionable gown.
Margaret gave both of them a warm smile. "It is kind of you to visit. Please sit down," she said.
"We would have come sooner but I wanted to give you time to settle in," Hannah said.
"That's very thoughtful of you," Margaret said.
"Your father is at the school, I believe."
"Yes."
"And your mother…?"
"She passed away when I was a young girl."
"Oh!" Fanny exclaimed.
Margaret glanced at Fanny, who was staring at her with undisguised curiosity. She wasn't sure whether the "Oh" was said in shock or sympathy, so she returned her attention to Mrs Thornton who was looking at her as if she was expecting further explanation. Further explanation about what, Margaret wasn't sure. Margaret had no recollection of her mother. She was two when her mother had died.
"And your father never remarried?"
Mrs Thornton certainly didn't beat around the bush. Margaret couldn't recall being expected to share personal details of her family less than two minutes of making someone's acquaintance.
"No. We had Dixon, my late mother's maid. She raised me."
Mrs Thornton lifted her brow.
"Along with Aunt Shaw, my mother's sister. She lives in London," Margaret added.
"London! Did you live in London?" Fanny asked.
"Yes, I spent a few years in London and visit often," Margaret said.
"I would love to go to London. I do adore the concerts. Do you sing?" Fanny asked.
"I am afraid not very well."
"Do you play the piano?"
"A little."
"Do you play any other instrument?"
"No"
"Do you ride?"
And on and on it went. Fanny asked her so many questions, it made Margaret's head spin. When Mary arrived with the tea, Margaret was glad for the reprieve. Once she handed them their cups, the onslaught continued. It was now Mrs Thornton's turn.
"How do you find Milton, Miss Hale?"
Margaret supposed there was no better way to answer the question than the truth. "I am afraid I don't understand the North too well."
"What don't you understand?"
"The customs, the people," Margaret hesitated, "the struggle between the workers and the Masters. Everything is so different and new to me. Things were simpler in Helstone."
Mrs Thornton regarded her a moment. "Do you wish to return to Helstone?"
Admitting that she wanted to return would be betraying her father and his judgement. But did she really want to return? Had Mrs Thornton asked her this question a week ago, Margaret realised that she might have said yes. But now? She thought about Bessie and Tom and Arthur and Ellie. She thought about her father. He looked happier and much more content in Milton, no longer plagued by doubt and his conscience.
"No. I only wish to understand the life here better," Margaret said with a smile.
"I see," Mrs Thornton said and then fell silent.
"Perhaps, you could join us for the concert next week," Fanny said brightly. "It's as good as the concerts in London. Ann Latimer will be there as well. I will introduce you."
"I should be delighted," Margaret said.
"Excellent! Do you read?"
"Oh… yes."
"Novels?"
"Yes."
"Which novel are you reading now?"
"Pride and Prejudice."
"Oh, I love it!" Fanny clapped her hands in delight.
Finally! Something in common, Margaret sighed with relief.
"How far along are you in the story?" Fanny asked.
"Elizabeth has just been invited to Rosings Park for dinner."
"Oh, you are about to get to the best part! Please do read it quickly so that we can discuss it," Fanny said eagerly.
"I would love that, Miss Thornton," Margaret said a bit surprised at Miss Thornton's sudden enthusiasm towards her.
"Please call me Fanny," Fanny said with what appeared to be a genuine smile.
"Then you must call me Margaret," Margaret returned her smile.
"Done! What other novels have you recently read?"
And on and on it went again. But this time Margaret didn't mind the questions. Fanny, she realised, thought and spoke with dizzying speed. Her mind moved from one topic to the next without missing a beat. Margaret found herself trying to keep up with her.
While Margaret and Fanny were discussing Sense and Sensibility, Hannah was trying to make up her mind about Miss Hale. She could clearly see her appeal. The girl had the kind of face that would stop men in their tracks. Her manners and movements were graceful but they also had the quick, playful quality of youth. Not many men would stand a chance against that. But she had expected Miss Hale to be beautiful—had John not said so himself? What Hannah was interested in was the sort of girl she was and here she was indeed surprised. She might be from the South but the girl was no blushing rose. She was honest and direct, with none of the superior Southern manner about her. She seemed like a supremely capable girl. She couldn't be more than twenty but she was already running a house. Although a shawl was tossed carelessly on one of the chairs and a few books were lying on a corner table (Hannah itched to put them back in their place), the room was tidy, not a speck of dust (quite a miracle in Milton), Hannah noted with satisfaction. Of course, it was not a big house, but its condition spoke favorably of its mistress. The maid had come with the tea quickly enough and the biscuits were hot from the oven, which was evidence of a well-run kitchen. She treated Hannah with the right amount of deference and if she could keep up with Fanny, Hannah figured she owed the girl some measure of respect.
"I could show you some of the parks in Milton. It must have been dreadful getting lost," Fanny said.
"Err… yes, that would be lovely, thank you," Margaret said, wondering where Fanny got the idea that she had lost her way.
"Had you gone out far?" Fanny asked.
For a moment, Margaret had no clue what Fanny was talking about. Then it hit her. Yesterday, at the hill. Did Mr Thornton tell his family about the incident? If yes, what exactly did he say? Margaret realised that both Fanny and Mrs Thornton were waiting for her reply.
"A bit," Margaret said cautiously.
"It's good that you found John," Fanny said.
"Yes," Margaret said. "Quite fortunate," she added, recalling the thugs who had followed her.
Margaret's confusion and guarded reply were not lost on Mrs Thornton. She wondered what part of the story John had left out. Mrs Thornton sighed. John was a grown man and she had no business asking where and with whom he spent his time. So far she was satisfied with Miss Hale. She obviously hadn't much by way of fortune (not that John needed to marry an heiress) but if John liked her, she might do well. That Miss Hale may not want to marry John was something that never occurred to Hannah.
"Miss Hale, please do not hesitate to come to me if you need any help," Mrs Thornton said rising from her chair.
"That's kind of you, Mrs Thornton. Thank you," Margaret said.
They made their farewells, with promises to meet again soon. Margaret watched as the mother and the daughter stepped into their elegant carriage and drove off.
Returning to the room, Margaret dropped into the chair. Mr Thornton's family. The mother was more or less what she had expected but the sister! She had been surprised by Fanny's offer of friendship. ByGod, she was hilarious and exhausting. She laughed as she tried to picture Mr Thornton having a conversation with Fanny. Oh, she would gladly visit the Thorntons just to see the two siblings interact. With that happy thought, she popped a biscuit into her mouth and returned to her sketchbook.
Later that evening, after dinner, Thornton sat through an elaborate discussion and dissection of Margaret's character, conducted all by Fanny. He read the newspaper while his mother sat with her embroidery. Fanny declared Margaret to be "reasonable pretty"; it was a shame that she was not blonde, for then, she could truly be called beautiful. It was also a shame that she could not sing or play the piano. But she was a great reader as was Fanny, and had promised to lend Fanny a copy of Mr Dickens' latest novel.
"She doesn't have any airs, although she has lived in London," Fanny said. "Her gown was rather plain. I promised to show her some of the latest patterns," she continued.
Thornton was quite sure that Margaret did not favour silly flounces and ribbons or the latest fashions. He himself loved the simplicity of Margaret's gowns. The simple cut and the demure colours became her, even though, he was beginning to realise that she was not a very demure young lady. This evening, she had not said anything to him except "Good evening, Mr Thornton" and "Good night, Mr Thornton." She had been engrossed in her book and stirred only to pour tea. Thornton had been glad for the peace, but also disappointed. As much as he admired looking at her, he found that he liked it better when she was speaking—arguing, he corrected himself.
He wondered what his mother had thought of Margaret. She hadn't contributed anything to the discussion. She had earlier said that she didn't expect to like Margaret much.
"Mama, I hope you invite the Hales to the annual dinner party," Fanny turned towards her mother.
"What do you think, John?" Hannah asked without raising her head from the embroidery.
"Mother, it's your dinner party. You are the hostess and it is your guest list," Thornton said, wondering why his mother was deferring the decision to him.
"Do invite them, Mama. I quite like Margaret," Fanny said. Thornton turned to look at Fanny. He was rather surprised at his sister's interest in Margaret. Margaret was not at all like her other friends. But who knew what went on in Fanny's head? He turned back to his mother.
Mrs Thornton looked at her son and said, "Any friend of yours is welcome at our house. I will send out the invitation," and with that she went back to her embroidery.
That was all she was going to reveal but knowing his mother, Thornton understood that she must have revised her opinion of Margaret. His mother would not tolerate anyone merely for his sake. And if she thought Margaret, despite her being a mere schoolteacher's daughter, was good enough to attend her annual dinner party, then that was high praise indeed.
