POLES APART
A/N: Sorry…Sorry…Sorry….!
Thank you for all the support! Enjoy!
Chapter 12:
It had been nearly two weeks but Mrs. Thornton was still struggling with her cold. Just as she thought she was beginning to make a recovery she would suffer a relapse. The previous day and night had certainly been the worst yet. When Margaret had retired early to bed the previous evening she had been so grateful to climb into her own soft warm bed, but as her throat burned and her head ached, sleep remained as elusive as ever. The morning had finally dawned, cold and bright; but after a fitful night thrashing about in her bed, she had only eventually succumbed to her own exhaustion just as the rest of Milton was waking. Her peaceful repose however was to be short lived.
As they no longer kept any servants except for Dixon and a fairly competent kitchen maid, and a char lady that came in twice a week, it was left to Dixon's lot to answer the door when several hard thuds where cast upon this portal just before tea time. Dixon, as was her way, moaned and grumbled about "it being beneath her dignity to open doors and the like", (though secretly she managed the mill house with a rod of iron and would not have welcomed the arrival of a butler or someone superior to her that would in their position have authority over her).
Believing that the visitor could only be some common tradesman or equally lowly personage she pulled the front door open with unnecessary ferocity and a most sour expression on her face, readying herself to berate this ill-advised visitor that tradesmen and their like were generally received at the back of the house. Thus it was with indescribable astonishment and embarrassment that she hastily curtsied and begged pardon in a broken and stuttering parlance, when upon wrenching the heavy door open her eyes alighted on none other than Mrs. Shaw. She stood demurely on the threshold, her hands ensconced in her ermine muff, a matching stole draped about her shoulders and a large and exquisitely decorated hat sitting at the most precise angle on her head. Her style of dress gave her a very distinguished and imposing air, though there was the slightest sneer that seemed to curl at the corners her thin lips which not even the warmth in her large clear grey eyes could diminish. Unfortunately, despite all her evident wealth and gentility, this evidence of her disdain only served to highlight her haughtiness and the antipathy with which she seemed to regard her surroundings.
"Dixon?" uttered the bewildered traveler, for a moment forgetting the stale smoky smell that made her nose curl, in her amazement at finding Dixon answering the door of the house she had been told by her coachman was the residence of Mr. Thornton.
"My Lady!" gasped Dixon, in equally shocked accents, barely able to credit her eyes. She had longed for Margaret's Aunt to arrive in Milton and take them away from all their troubles for months, but had of late begun to despair. Yet, here she stood in the doorway, appearing for all the world to Dixon as an angel sent from heaven.
"Well I do beg your pardon for gaping so Dixon, of course I knew I would find you here, but what in heaven's name are you doing answering the door?"
"Oh my lady, Lord bless me, I am ever so glad you have come at last! We are in a right sorry state here my Lady that much I cannot hide from you!" Dixon curtsied again, (as if the lady had been the Queen herself), and shuffled to the side so that Mrs. Shaw could move past her into the hall. Dixon was in fact so overcome with astonishment and emotion that after closing the front door she had to succumb to a fit of the vapours. After a lengthy battle to extricate her handkerchief from the deep pockets of her voluminous skirt she began to dab at the streams of tears now cascading down her plump ruddy cheeks in a vain effort to staunch the leak.
"Well so it would appear Dixon, though I had not believed the situation so desperate. You make my knees quiver! Good gracious! My niece didn't ever suggest that there was aught amiss, and Mr. Bell has always been at pains to assure me that Margaret has been very well taken care of and is in the best of hands?" uttered Mrs. Shaw, confusion and consternation evident in both her tone and her features.
"Oh my lady, that much I shall leave to you to decide, though I shall only say that I couldn't take a more contrary view on the matter if you were to pay me fifty pounds to do so!"
Mrs. Shaw, never having been a very frequent visitor to Helston, (not having much a taste for the country), was not at all conversant with Dixons penchant for histrionics and doomsday prophesying. She herself, being of a rather sensitive disposition, took to heart the desperate and woebegone inflection in Dixons voice and already felt as though she may require her smelling salts before too long.
Dixon ushered her into the small parlour where a small fire crackled in the hearth, and promised to hasten to provide her with some refreshment. She also explained that Mrs. Thornton, being rather poorly of late had not yet emerged from her chamber but that she would herself go and inform her that she had a visitor waiting for her and would try and hurry back with her hostess as soon as may be contrived.
"But what of Margaret, Dixon? If Mrs. Thornton is indeed ill I should not wish to drag her from her sickbed, and after all it is Margaret whom I came to see."
"Miss Margret is…out, at present…"she faltered. She wanted desperately for Mrs. Shaw to carry Margaret and herself safely back to London and knew that there could be no surer way to achieve this than by disclosing the true nature of her nieces disgraced circumstances to the Aunt, but her sense of ill-usage and resentment towards her current circumstances were at odds with her sense of loyalty to her mistress. In the end, she knew the truth would out, and would rather Mrs. Thornton disclose the whole to Mrs. Shaw, thus preserving her from Margaret's wrath.
"Mrs. Thornton will not mind, my lady, only if you would be so kind as to wait for her while I assist her in readying herself."
With this, Dixon curtsied, (yet again,) and hastened out the parlour. She was of an age and girth that didn't allow for swiftness in her movements, but she shuffled as fast as she could towards the kitchens to inform the maid that a tea tray was needed in the parlour before breathlessly rushing up the stairs, clutching her skirts in her calloused fingers, to inform Mrs. Thornton of the much anticipated visitor which awaited her pleasure below stairs.
Thus it was Dixons loud thumping on her chamber door that rudely roused Mrs. Thornton from the first real sleep she had managed to achieve in days! She was angry for the interruption but upon spying the small carriage clock on her bedside table, and seeing at what an advanced hour of the day it was, she resigned herself to her fate and bid enter whoever it was banging on her door.
"Good morning, Mrs. Thornton," said Dixon somewhat breathlessly as she entered into the darkened bedchamber. She went straight to the window to open the curtains before turning again towards the bed and eyeing the wretchedly prostrate form of Mrs. Thornton who was squinting in the sudden deluge of sunlight and trying in vain to extricate her arms from the covers so she may try sit up. "I am so sorry to disturb your rest, only there is a visitor below stairs waiting to see you. I know you have been most desirous of seeing this particular guest grace your parlour Ma'am, and so hastened to rouse you and see if I could be of any assistance."
"No doubt Dixon," responded Mrs. Thornton dryly, not paying too much heed to the maids idle prattle as she tried to lift herself up on the pillows which Dixon was at the moment stacking up behind her back.
"It is Miss Margaret's Aunt, me lady - Mrs. Shaw." And with these words she stood back to better examine the effect her words had on the infirm Mrs. Thornton.
"Well of course it is!" she sighed under her breath. "We've only been awaiting her leisure for months and now she turns up on our doorstep without so much as a 'by your leave'!" She neither knew nor cared that Dixon had heard every word of her frustrated declamation but after closing her eyes for a few moments to fully digest this announcement she finally resigned herself to her fate and slowly spun her legs sideways on the bed and out from under the warm coverlet.
Dixon, slightly offended at the manner with which the now disgraced former-proprietor-of-a-cotton-mill's mother treated the arrival of so fine and notable a figure as Mrs. Shaw on her doorstep, tried to hide her pique; and instead hurried over to assist Mrs. Thornton as best she could.
Mrs. Thornton was not used to the ministrations of a ladies maid, having dispensed with one after her husband's untimely demise and then having grown so accustomed to managing on her own that she had felt the added financial burden of hiring a replacement to not be worth the trouble, even when the Mill was at its most profitable. Of course, once able to afford one, she had hired a maid for Fanny, but still managed her own toilette by herself.
She was tempted to swat Dixon's well-meaning hands away, and if only she had more strength maybe she would have, but as it was she was terribly weakened by her protracted illness and instead merely stood there while Dixon busied herself with dressing and undressing her; pulling on laces and crinoline skirts, and finally with Dixons aid, seating herself at the small dresser against the one wall while Dixon hurriedly but with the utmost skill and care brushed and pinned her slightly greying auburn locks up on top of her head in what was a very becoming coiffure.
Never having been overly bothered by her aging countenance, and always having been of a rather stout and healthy disposition she didn't possess any paints or powders that Dixon could have used to hide the dark rings beneath her dull and heavy eyes, or brighten up her pale and pallid cheeks. She looked wistfully into the glass before Dixon helped her to her feet again and decided that what she saw reflected there would have to do.
Downstairs; Mrs. Shaw, her keen eyes having taken in every inch of the shabby genteel décor around her, was seated near a small slightly begrimed window overlooking the mill yard. The kitchen maid had brought through some tea, which had done much to ease her nerves after Dixons melodramatic display, and she had just lifted the pale turquoise china cup to her lips to drain the last dregs of this restorative liquid from its fragile depths when the parlour door opened to admit Mrs. Thornton, as always (even in her current weakened state) a very imposing figure dressed from top to toe in her customary stiff black skirts.
"Mrs. Shaw I believe? I apologize for keeping you waiting but I am glad to see you have been looked after. I am not prone to illness as a rule but have been sadly pulled by this particular bout." She just managed to get out these few words before being taken over by a paroxysm of coughing, forcing her to hold the back of the settee to support herself.
"My dear Mrs. Thornton, it is clearly I who should apologize! Had I known I would never have dreamt of imposing on you. Of course, if my poor Niece had not chosen this moment to go jaunting about, then I would not have had to drag you out of your bed. I must humbly beg your forgiveness." Mrs. Shaw smiled kindly at the intimidating figure before her. She could see that the other woman, though of a stout frame, seemed much weakened; and though she was not possessed of an overly sympathetic nature towards her fellow creatures she was also aware that no matter what the social standing of her hostess may be, she was indebted to her for the care she showed towards Margaret and certainly didn't want to appear ungrateful or unfeeling.
Though of course with Margaret being absent, and not knowing when she would return, she was feeling a bit guilty for dragging Mrs. Thornton downstairs to keep her company, and if truth be told rather fearful of becoming infected by her, while she whiled away the unknown hours in this dark and rather depressing looking parlour awaiting Margaret's return. She was sure that Dixon wouldn't mind going out in search of Margaret if she asked it of her, and if in the course of their conversation she felt that Mrs. Thornton wouldn't object then she thought that she would suggest it; anything to hasten her removal from this dreadful dirty stinking town.
Mrs. Thornton having recovered herself took the seat opposite Mrs. Shaw by the window, a few watery rays of sunshine filtered through it and alighted on her black skirts. She too felt the awkwardness of the meeting and more especially, as it seemed by Mrs. Shaw's introduction, that she had not been made aware of Margaret's current employment. Of course she herself had never felt entirely comfortable in allowing Margaret to take the position. She may not have cared much for the girl or her airs and graces at one point but she knew that she was reared in a genteel home and that her relations would likely not look favourably on such schemes as Margaret had suggested. But with one aspect she had agreed with Margaret – she was an orphan. A penniless orphan with no income, no immediate family to take her on and no husband to care for her. She would not allow herself to become a burden on strangers, and for this Mrs. Thornton admired her. It was this admiration of Margaret's character that had swayed her in the end and resulted in her finally granting her consent to Margaret's scheme and assisting her in finding the most genteel occupation she could think of.
Mrs. Pratley may not have been quite up to the standard of the notable modiste that was clearly responsible for attiring the immaculate Mrs. Shaw, but she was certainly better than some of Margaret's other suggestions, which had included amongst other things, working as a house maid or a washer woman!
These thoughts all swirled around Mrs. Thornton's aching head as it dawned on her that the unenviable task of breaking these tidings to 'the Aunt' would now fall on her shoulders. These arguments and several more crowded her weary brain as she braced herself to defend her position in not stopping Margaret when some had felt she should have. She rallied her strengths and plunged forward with her explanation.
"I am terribly sorry Mrs. Thornton, but I feel sure I could not have heard you correctly?" responded Mrs. Shaw a few short minutes later, looking and sounding very confused.
Hannah repeated what she had just said, and whilst there was no question that Mrs. Shaw had heard her correctly, the look of sheer disbelief that still clung about her face, was testament to the complete incredulity with which this statement had been received.
"Would you like some more tea, or perhaps a glass of water?" enquired Mrs. Thornton nervously. This grand lady sitting in her parlour looked pampered and spoilt and of a rather weak and nervous disposition and the last thing she needed in her current state was having to cope with a feinting fit or mild hysterics, which by the fast pooling tears in the corners of that lady's grey eyes seemed almost imminent.
"Employed? At a dressmakers shop?" The words were spoken in soft yet scandalized accents, lest anyone be eavesdropping on their conversation. The absolute impossibility of these words forced the dear woman's head to reel and tears to prick the corners of her eyes as she tried to let this fetid truth settle in her overburdened mind.
"Yes Mrs. Shaw. You are not mistaken or hard of hearing. Miss Hale, feeling herself very beholden on her friends, took it upon herself to seek employment in an attempt to contribute towards her own expenses which she feared may cause a considerable burden on those same friends to whom she already owed so much.
"You must understand that whilst we all, Mr. Bell and my son most especially, tried to dissuade her from this course of action, she was adamant that she was now an independent woman and that she wanted to be of independent means. Perhaps her decision may seem rather shocking to her relations who know in what style of gentility she was raised, but to an outsider such as myself I must say that I am immeasurably proud of her. I admit I was very mistaken in first judging Miss Hale upon our early acquaintance, of being proud, indolent and idealistic. That was entirely my mistake and I am very sorry for it. Not only in how bravely she has borne the loss of both of her parents at such a young age and entirely on her own with no one but strangers to support her, but also in her tenacity and courage in accepting her life and moving forward with it as best she is able; she has proven herself to be strong, resilient and always putting the concerns of others before her own. Whatever path may lay before her now you are come to take her away with you, I will not be sorry for having the opportunity of learning her true nature before we parted ways."
Mrs. Thornton had enjoyed reminding Mrs. Shaw that whilst she jaunted across the continent she left her 'dear' niece in the hands of strangers, not seeming to care what became of her so long as it didn't in anyway interfere with her plans. She had no right to rebuke or condemn Margaret's actions or indeed her own in allowing Margaret to have her way. If she cared so very much then she should have come sooner.
Their tête-à-tête was momentarily interrupted when Dixon entered with a fresh tea tray and some small sandwiches arranged delicately on a small plate. Dixon of course had ulterior motives, hoping to perhaps overhear some small snippet of their conversation; a word or two to assure her that Mrs. Shaw intended to whisk them away as soon as Miss Margaret returned, and that she would never have to put a foot in the sooty dirty streets of Milton every again.
But she was sadly disappointed.
Mrs. Thornton was so grateful to see the tea being carried in. Her mouth was dry and her throat burning and she so longed for a warm soothing cup of tea that she thanked Dixon most earnestly and hastily stood up to take the fresh tray out of Dixons hands herself so that Dixon could remove the remnants of the tray that had earlier been brought in upon Mrs. Shaw's arrival. This of course meant there was no need for Dixon to linger as Mrs. Thornton was herself pouring out the fresh cups. She had no other choice but to withdraw. Not that the well-bred countenance and manners of Mrs. Shaw would ever have allowed even the smallest word or outward sign of her chagrin and concern to show in the presence of a servant even had Dixon not been forced to withdraw.
The brief disruption had given Mrs. Shaw the opportunity to master herself again. None of her acquaintance would have called Mrs. Shaw 'clever' but she had detected the rather accusatory inflection in Mrs. Thornton's voice as she related Margaret's recent circumstances and character. She was not cold hearted, only lazy to bestir herself of behalf of others if she could possibly avoid it. Her sojourn on the continent amongst her friends; a holiday which had originally been suggested to her by her physician to brighten her spirits, had been extended only as she had been of the belief that Margaret was being well looked after in her absence and that she would therefore have no reason to rush home to be by Margaret's side. Obviously Mrs. Thornton was trying to absolve her and her son's gross negligence in their management of her niece by trying to intimate that the fault was all due to her own indolence. After all, who was this shabby little nobody to point fingers at her and try and lay all the blame on her shoulders?
"Had I but known in what seemingly inept hands my niece's livelihood and care had been thrust, upon the demise of my poor brother-in-law, I would have hastened back to England with all alacrity. But any and all correspondence received from both my niece and Mr. Bell, assured me that she was in the best of care!" Her voice shook terribly as the injustice of Mrs. Thornton's words slowly began to sink in. Her conscience had been pricked but not being of a combative disposition her belligerence rapidly fizzled out. She had not abandoned poor Margaret on purpose!
Her anger now gave way to tears of self-pity, as though she was the hard done by victim in all this, rather than the long suffering Margaret. Hannah felt a great swell of pity for poor Margaret and also a great sense of pride to know that at least the poor girl was made of sterner stuff than her relations.
"Mrs. Shaw, my son and I have done our best by Margaret, but we are not her kin. We have no authority or sway over her, and besides that I'm sure I need hardly tell you that though your niece is not unbiddable she does know her own mind and is not easily swayed. Of course her stubbornness has led to previous disagreements between your niece and myself, but I would like to know in what way you would have had me behave towards the poor girl in an attempt to force her to bend to my will?" asked Mrs. Thornton, exhaustion and exasperation tainting her tone of voice in equal measure.
"Well of course, I would not have wished you be unkind to her, especially after all she has lately gone through, but what could she have been thinking to act in such an improper and vulgar way?" Mrs. Shaw was now patting at her powdered cheeks with her lacy handkerchief in one hand and fanning her face with a delicate ivory fan in the other, as she attempted to regain her composure. She could not answer Mrs. Thornton's question, but then without first speaking with Margaret herself how could she be sure that this Mrs. Thornton and her tradesman son had not forced Margaret into finding employment,? For truly she could not credit that the Margaret that she knew could commit such a grossly unladylike act unless coerced.
"You are upsetting yourself Mrs. Shaw, and considering that the deed is done and as neither you nor I can alter what has been done, I advise you to calm yourself." Hannah's head was throbbing and her patience exhausted. The watery rays of sun creeping in through the grimy windows did nothing to warm her; she longed for the soft warmth and comfort of her bed.
"It is evident from your tone that you believe me to have no feeling for my dear niece or her tragic circumstances, but you are mistaken," she said with a slight pout. "In all her missives to me she has been nothing but cheerful and expressed her contentment with her living arrangements here in Milton. Mr. Bell too has been at great pains to assure me that she was in no way a burden and that he was only too pleased to be of use to her in any way he could, including caring for all her financial requirements. I cannot credit that I have been so taken in…"she said, sniffing pathetically in-between every few words.
"All of what you believed to be true was true Mrs. Shaw. Margaret has not wanted for any material thing since her father's passing; my son and Mr. Bell have gone to great lengths to ensure she is well cared for. And Margaret herself would not contradict this. She is a fine, capable and strong young woman. She knows her own mind and I admire her for that. I was not in favour of this course of action, I will admit; but I think it has done her the world of good. Margaret has come back to herself. As you were not here to witness it allow me to inform you; after her father's death she would sit all day and night in my sons study crying over her father's old possessions. She refused food or company and it was our great fear that with nothing to live for she would slowly waste away here. Milton is not a place for weak willed people. Life is hard here and so must her people be. We prayed daily that you would come and take her away, not because we couldn't or wouldn't care for her but because she needed family. I do blame you for your continued absence, not because you believed her to be well cared for but because as a woman and a mother could you not have realized how devastated the poor girl was? She seems to have been at pains to spare you any unnecessary trouble or bother yet what pains have you exerted on her behalf?"
Of course this was too much for the gently bred Mrs. Shaw's nerves to handle. She broke down into great heaving sobs, mumbling incoherently to the world at large about how unfair Mrs. Thornton was being.
"That is…. (sob) not true…. (sob) I didn't… (sob)…. I didn't know…. (sob)"
Hannah could bare it no longer. She knew she had allowed her temper to run away with her but in her current frame of mind she couldn't listen to this woman's self-pitying lamentations any further.
"Of course you will need to discuss this matter with Margaret yourself this evening when she returns home, but if she does not wish to return to London with you then I shan't be the one to force her. So long as my son is able to provide a roof for us to live under Margaret will always be welcome in our home. Now you must forgive me, I am not feeling at all well and think it best if I return to my bed. I shall only reiterate that you are most welcome to return this evening; indeed we would be very honoured if you would join us for dinner, where after you may then discuss all of these issues with Margaret yourself. Now if you will excuse me…"and with these parting words she stood up, as steadily as her rather shaking legs would permit, to indicate that the meeting was at an end.
Mrs. Shaw was still sniffing, but she too stood up. She wiped at her wet cheeks and tried desperately to regain her composure though with little luck. Hannah herself escorted her out of the parlour and opened the front door for her. Mrs. Shaw turned in the door way, seeming to gather herself and her strength, before uttering her parting words to Mrs. Thornton.
"I thank you for the invitation and I shall certainly be grateful of a private interview with my niece. Good day to you Mrs. Thornton."
Hannah gave a curt nod to these words and hastened to close the door as soon Mrs. Shaw's retreating skirts had cleared the threshold.
She wasn't sure if the fever had addled her mind or if she had just allowed her temper to control her tongue? The things she had said…?! She couldn't comprehend from whence they had sprung and her head ached too much to consider the matter further. All she wanted was her bed, and she would trust that when she awoke perhaps this whole disastrous encounter was but a figment of her overwrought and feverish brain.