Hello!

This is a translation of my own OS, written in French, in one hour on the theme "pensée" that means "tought". But I choose another meaning of "pensée", that is "pansy", the little flower that you can see in spring on the grass.

English is not my first language, so if I made any grammar mistakes, feel free to tell me, so I can improve my English.

Disclaimer : of course the characters belong to Elizabeth Gaskell.

I hope you'll like it, enjoy!

Margaret was grieving. Of course, she had left black clothes to wear dark-coloured and grey dresses, but her heart was still full of sorrow. She had to leave a place she saw as paradise to live in a smokey and noisy city. She had lost both her parents a few months apart. Then, she had to leave this same city, still smokey and noisy, but where she knew there lived a few people she liked and who liked her back.

Life in Harley Street in her Aunt's house seemed sometimes exhausting. Because of her grieving, she could not join the receptions held by Mrs. Shaw's friends. However, Edith always insisted that she took care of Sholto when she was out with her mother. Her cousin's son was only one, but had a strong character, so Margaret often wondered if she would run out of patience and ask Edith to hire a nurse or to take care of him herself. Margaret wanted to be undisturbed, to write letters for her godfather, Mr. Bell, or for Frederick, thanks to Henry Lennox.

She knew, she saw. The lawyer hoped for something from her, but her heart did not want to give it to him. She would not make the mistake to accept a man she respected but knew she could not love. The more she thought about it, the more she knew there was only one man she could see as the one who was able to take her heart. However, since she had left Milton, she had not been given any news. She had no news about how the master of Marlborough Mills managed, how well the Irish who had stayed settled in, how Nicholas Higgins coped with raising Boucher's children.

Months passed, and time brought back colours on Margaret's dresses, although she had to wear grey clothes when Mr. Bell left for Argentina, giving her his fortune and belongings. She learnt of Marlborough Mills' bankruptcy with a twinge. He had not succeeded in resolving the situation, orders had been to few and clients had not paid. Somehow, she knew that the success of the speculation might had been hard to him, and Milton's Masters might be laughing at him during their meetings.

However, one day as she tidied her papers, Margaret came up with an idea. He was still her tenant, and she could find a way to keep him as such. With the help of Mr. Lennox, who had been managing her property with her, she made an offer and sent it to Marlborough Mills, hoping for a quick answer. She wanted news from him, even if it was fewer than what she wanted.

Two weeks later, Edith knocked on her office door, where she managed her properties. "Margaret, there is a letter for you. It seems it has been put directly in the letterbox. "

Margaret was as intrigued as her cousin was. A twinge of hope in her heart, she took the letter. It was not heavy, but bigger than expected. She openend the enveloppe, and a small violet bouquet fell on her knees. Pansies. Who could be sending her pansies ? How was it even possible to find pansies in London?

Suddenly she realised. She knew the writing on the envelope, she has seen it in letters for her father or mother, with a fruit basket or a philosophy book. She knew, thanks to her childhood readings, what purple pansies meant.

I've loved you and still am loving

There was nothing more in the envelope, but now Margaret knew who went to Harley Street to put a modest flower bouquet in the mail.

She rose from her chair, surprising Edith. The pansies in her hand, she ran the stairs down to the hall. She did not care to put a shawl or hat and walked out of the house. People strolled on Harley Street, and passengers were getting in a coach. But a big silhouette clothed in black with a hat caught her eyes. He was here. Seeing her, he left the fence he was leaning on and smiled at her.

Margaret approached John Thornton like in a dream. Was it really him? Yes, he was there, in the flesh. She was standing in front of him and tried to speak, but no sound left her mouth. She was dreading and anticipating the next minutes. She rose the bouquet. "I hoped you would understand the meaning of these flowers", he began. His deep voice sounded like a purr.

How she had missed his voice…

"After all, you told me about Helstone's flowers, so I thought you could know the meaning of pansies."

Margaret nodded.

"I received your letter. And I've been surprised. Pleasanlty surprised. So much that I began to hope that something had changed in your feelings toward me. All I said that day is still true." He whispered.

"And my offer?" Margaret asked, desperately trying to change the subject.

"I cannot bear such a debt, Margaret."

She rose her eyes and met his own, filled with intensity, concern, and hope. Intimidated, she looked down.

"You would not owe me anything. And you would give me much more than bank interests. You see, it is you who would be doing me the service."

John took her hands in his big, callous, and warm ones, and Margaret rose her head.

"In that case, allow me one debt." He implored her. His voice full of restraint. "Allow me a lifetime debt. The one a man owes to his wife. Please."

Emotion ran through her vein. Margaret had guessed right, he still loved her. He had the same wishes than the day she had so cruelly rejected him.

"I am not worthy of you, Mr. Thornton," she whispered. "Not after what I said and done to you."

"Not worthy! Margaret, do not mock me, as I am convinced that I do not deserve you."

John rose her hands and kissed both on the back, giving her delicious shivers. If her life should be as delicious as this, then accepting his love debt would be the most marvellous thing.

Suddenly concious that they were in the middle of the street, she offered him to come for tea. After all, he would have to meet his future in-laws.