The week following Mr. Thornton's visit was uniformly dull and dispiriting. The man himself had not visited the Hales during that time which left Margaret, not being able to satisfactorily solve the puzzle of Mr. Thornton's behavior, befuddled and worked into quite a passion against him. Visiting Bessy and Nicholas was a pleasant way to spend an afternoon which otherwise would have been spent ruminating over her confused emotions and their object.

Mrs. Hale's health was declined to the point of her not being able to leave her bed. Death was not imminent but anyone who viewed her visage could plainly see that it was not far in coming. Dixon religiously waited upon her mistress and her every desire and disapproved of any who would dare to usurp her service. Margaret, therefore, found it rather odd one day when Dixon sidled up to her and said that Mrs. Hale had requested Margaret to come to her bedroom. On entering the sick woman's room, Margaret's eyes had to adjust to the dimness of the lighting and made out the form of her mother prone on her bed. Intense worry and a vague sense of the fleetingness of mortality caused Margaret to hesitate before approaching her mother.

'Mama!' she called softly, 'You asked that I attend you?'

At Margaret's words, Mrs. Hale turned her head slowly and with great effort toward her daughter, her vanity even now causing her to attempt to hide the grimace of pain which the motion had caused. 'My child, I know that I am not much longer for this world. Please ask Mrs. Thornton to visit as soon as she may, as I have a request of her.'

Margaret's soft grey eyes widened at her mother's plea. "Mama, can I help you instead? Is Mrs. Thornton necessary?'

'Margaret, there are some things only a mother may understand. I must speak with Mrs. Thornton.' Having spoken her piece, Mrs. Hale closed her tired, filmy eyes with a soft sigh and clearly ended the conversation. Dixon signaled for silence and escorted Margaret into the adjoining sitting room.

'Miss Margaret, she's been going on and on for some weeks about taking care of you and doing her best to ensure you have a mother's care after she is gone. I know you have no love for that woman but you need to do what your poor, dear mother wanted to ease her mind and out of respect for her.' Dixon quickly tried to turn away so that Margaret would not see the tears in her eyes, even though the momentary sight only increased Margaret's affection for the long-standing servant.

Resolved to perform her duty, Margaret stepped out of her house with the determination not to allow Mr. Thornton or his forthright, overbearing mother to dissuade her. She discharged her obligation to the immense surprise and bewilderment of Mrs. Thornton, who promised to call on Mrs. Hale later that afternoon. Margaret was both relieved and disappointed to not have seen Mr. Thornton during her visit to his home. Being in his personal abode, despite the absence of his actual person, was no less disturbing to her equanimity than being in his presence. The walk back to Crampton was a respite and afforded an opportunity to breathe deeply. After informing Dixon of the success of her mission, Margaret decided to stop at Bessy's home, as the last time she had seen her friend, Bessy had been feverish and extremely weak. After knocking at the door and receiving no answer from within, Margaret tried the latch which was unlocked. There was no fire in the grate and the room had no signs of having been tended to recently. She heard the sound of weeping coming from the kitchen and, upon investigating, found Mary standing in the middle of the space sobbing into her apron.

'Mary, what has happened? How is Bessy today - not worse?' she cried. As Mary looked up with reddened, immensely sad eyes, Margaret felt as if a hand were squeezing her chest, so great was the fear for her friend.

'It's too late, Miss Hale. Bessy pass'd this morn. She'd axed if she coul' be buried in one o' yourn lovely garments. She did,' Mary gasped with the effort not to burst out crying again, 'She did so love yo'r finery. Woul' yo' be so kind?'

Margaret asked urgently, 'Would you take me to see her, Mary? I very much want to see Bessy again.' The two quickly and quietly passed through the house and upstairs into the silent presence of the dead. Margaret was glad, exceedingly glad that she had come for Bessy's face, which had been so pinched and weary with pain in life, was now graced with a peaceful smile. As tears gathered in her eyes, she stood in wonderment at the serenity that was death. Mary was softly weeping behind her and Margaret stared at the still countenance of her beloved friend.

'I will bring you a beautiful lace nightcap, Mary. Bessy can go to her final rest arrayed as she would have wished. Will you be arranging the funeral?'

Mary spoke up in a muffled voice, 'Yo'll have to be axing Father on the funeral. Yo' know, she were thinkin' of yo' at the end. Her last words were, 'Give her my affectionate respects; and keep father fro' drink.' Can yo' get Father an' tell him? He'll be sore upset when he hears and he all'ays did take a shine to yo'.'

'Where is Nicholas, Mary? Is he around the corner?'

Mary nodded her head without speaking and, taking a last glance at her unmoving sister, crept back downstairs. How many such grave commands can a person be given in just one day? It was this question that Margaret deliberated while descending the stairs and leaving the Higgins' home to find its master who was, at that moment most likely, drinking in the Goulden Dragon.