It had been exactly sixty days since Margaret had penned her letter to John. It would have been improper for her to write everything that was in her heart and beg his immediate return. So instead she had laid out the facts of her inheritance, her plans for investment, and prayed that John would interpret her information correctly and understand her wishes.

Each day as the mail arrived brought fresh disappointment. Each day Margaret checked for word from John, but there was none.

Anxieties began to creep into Margaret's mind. Maybe he had found a new life in New England? Maybe time and distance had given him new perspective? Now that Fanny and Watson were so rich, he could be assured that his mother was well taken care of. He could start afresh if he wished. Maybe she was entirely mistaken in the strength of his affection for her?

It was on one morning as Margaret was leaving for the school that a telegram arrived for her. Intrigued, Margaret delayed her departure to sit and read the message. Nothing could have prepared her for the words to come.

John is gravely ill. You must come to Milton. Hannah Thornton.

It took no more than a heartbeat for Margaret to be on her feet. Running upstairs she was mentally calculating how long it would take her to get to Milton, providing she made this morning's train.

Margaret hurried past Dixon in the hall on the way to her room. 'Dixon, have the carriage readied for me, immediately!'

As she was in the middle of throwing some essential items together into a travel case, Dixon appeared at her door.

'Miss Margaret, what is the matter? What are you doing?' Dixon was now starting to worry about Margaret's state of mind.

'I am going to Milton, today.' Margaret completed a mental check of her belongings before leaving her room.

'But who will go with you?' Miss Edith is due any day now so neither Mr Lennox nor I can be spared. Why don't you send a note to Mr Henry Lennox if the matter is so urgent? I am sure he would oblige you.'

'I do not have time to wait for Henry, Dixon. I must go now.'

Dixon, disturbed by the lack of concern for propriety being shown by this headstrong girl pleaded 'But what about your Aunt Shaw? She will not be happy about this Miss Margaret. Think about her; think about all she has done for you?

Margaret, exasperated by the older woman's interference exclaimed 'I have done nothing but think of Aunt Shaw and everyone else. For once in my life I am going to think of me!' And with that Margaret stormed from the house.

**Now alone in her first class carriage, Margaret was finally able to think. There were so many questions but so few answers. John was gravely ill. What was wrong with him? Why was he back? And when did he return?

All she could be certain of was that John's condition must be very serious indeed to have driven his mother to appeal to Margaret to come to Milton. It was Mrs Thornton's actions that gave her the most cause for concern.

Margaret felt nauseated. Taking deep breaths she closed her eyes and tried to let the sound of the train sooth her. Getting lost in its rhythm she rest her head against the window, wrapping her arms around her waist. She willed the train on, unable to bring herself to even consider that she could be too late.

**As the train slowed to a stop at Milton station, Margaret prayed that a cab would be waiting ready to take her to John. She would go to the home of Fanny Watson first. At least there she may be redirected. Mrs Thornton had given her so few details to go by.

As Margaret descended the stairs to the nearby street, the familiar form of Hannah Thornton stepped into her path. 'Miss Hale, I have a carriage waiting.'

Completely taken aback by her sudden appearance, Margaret followed Mrs Thornton into the coach.

As they sat, Margaret noted that her usual frost-bound expression had been replaced with a despondency that implied resignation and…hopelessness. Margaret waited for Mrs Thorton to speak.

'You have packed light,' Mrs Thornton observed. 'We shall see to it that you can borrow some of Fanny's clothes while you are with us. You shall stay as my guest of course.'

'Thankyou, Mrs Thornton. I had not the time nor the inclination to concern myself with packing when I received your telegram.' Margaret impatient for news of John now entreated, 'Mrs Thornton, I can go no longer, please tell me of John, what is his condition?' Margaret's voice shook with the wave of emotion that threatened her self-possession.

Mrs Thornton looked out of the window, as if to avoid looking at Margaret. 'His vessel arrived five days ago. There had been an outbreak of ship fever. John tried to help those he could during the voyage but many perished.' A single tear was hurriedly brushed away from Mrs Thornton's cheek before she continued. 'The rash appeared two days before they docked. John knew then it was only a matter of time before he fell ill. He arrived in time to collapse into my arms.' Her tears were flowing now.

Mrs Thornton took a moment to gather herself. Margaret instinctively reached out and placed her hand on Mrs Thornton's arm. Margaret felt her stiffen at the touch so withdrew her hand slowly.

'He has spent much of the last three days thrashing about with fever and pain. In between he rests in fitful sleep. Dr Donaldson visits daily and has applied leaches and bled John. His condition has not improved.'

Margaret tried to imagine John lying weak, robbed of all vitality. It was unthinkable. 'How did you know.. why did you decide to send for me?' Margaret needed to understand Mrs Thornton's motive, though heaven knew she was glad to be here.

'He has had a few lucid moments in these days.' Mrs Thornton now looked directly at Margaret and said stiffly,'He asked for you, repeatedly. I thought at first it was the fever speaking but his eyes were earnest. I knew it was his true wish.' Mrs Thornton averted her gaze again, uncomfortable with the conversation.

It was now Margaret's turn to shed a tear. Any joy or relief she felt in being asked to be by his side was swiftly quashed by the fear and sorrow that was beginning to engulf her.

'You knew I would be on today's train?' Margaret enquired, curious that Mrs Thornton would come to meet her.

'When I left John, he was sleeping. I needed an occupation to stay my mind from the worst of thoughts, so brought the carriage to collect you.' Hannah allowed herself a moment from her grief to form a derisive smirk. 'I suspected that if the attachment between you was real, nothing would stop the spirited Miss Hale from breaking all rules of propriety and rushing to Milton.'

Margaret, knowing that Mrs Thornton was not one for outward displays of emotion, did her best to convey the profoundness of her gratitude. 'Thank you, Mrs Thornton.'

Hannah nodded, and continued to look out of the window.

The carriage took them to a very affluent part of Milton, where only the best families lived. Watson and Fanny had moved into a larger home with extensive grounds, no doubt befitting their elevation into the ranks of Milton's wealthiest residents.

Margaret followed Mrs Thornton to the door, which had been opened by a housekeeper at the arrival of the coach. As she was ushered into the cloakroom to remove her hat and gloves, a manservant took her bag. Fanny arrived presently to greet Margaret.

'Miss Hale, welcome to our home. It is lovely to see you again. Perhaps finally I shall be able to show you my Indian wallpapers….'

Fanny had hardly finished her sentence when Mrs Thornton scolded her for her insensitivity at such a time. 'Margaret has no mind for your decorations Fanny. She is here to give comfort to your brother in his time of need. Honestly!'

Fanny pouted as her mother strode up the stairs with Margaret closely in tow.