'John.' Mrs Thornton paused a moment before saying a little louder, 'John!'

'Sorry Mother, what did you say?'

'I said that Mr Baker's son was killed. Thrown from his horse. Took them a day to find him..' Mrs Thornton shook her head disapprovingly. 'You are somewhere else this evening I think.'

John tried to refocus. 'I'm sorry Mother. I have a lot on my mind at the moment I suppose.'

Mrs Thornton put down her knife and fork to scrutinise her handsome son. His meal remained untouched. 'I won't pretend that I don't know what this is about,' she chided.

John exhaled, awaiting the inevitable virtuous lecture from his mother. He had been kidding himself that the visit from Margaret this morning would go undetected. There was very little that occurred at Marlborough Mill without her notice.

'Her again.'

'Miss Hale, you mean,' John said, correcting his mother. Even though his relationship with Margaret was without an understanding, he still would not tolerate disrespect towards her from his mother.

'It was the servants who told me she was here. The servants! They spied her following you to your office at the crack of dawn,' said Mrs Thornton appalled. 'What on earth did "Miss Hale" want, John? What was so urgent that she could not wait for a more civilised hour to call on a respectable gentleman?'

John chastised himself for not being prepared for her questions. 'She came to..well to thank me for being of service to her family yesterday.'

Mrs Thornton's face remained stern. 'Yes, and how exactly were you "of service"?'

'I went to Crampton to see Mr Hale yesterday. Unfortunately he was in town on business when I got there. Miss Hale answered the door just as she was on her way to fetch Dr Donaldson. Her mother had taken a turn for the worst I'm afraid. I merely offered to go in her place.'

Mrs Thornton appeared skeptical. 'And do you mean to tell me that Miss Hale came all the way here in the middle of the night to thank you for running an errand?'

John did his best to stay calm and replied, 'It was not the middle of the night, Mother. The sun had been up for some time. And yes, that is why she came.'

John considered the steely woman who had been his bedrock during the darkest times. He owed her so much and would do just about anything for her. Anything but give up his dream of Margaret, he thought. 'Mother, I do wish you could show more compassion. Mrs Hale is dying. I think the Hales deserve our understanding at such a time, don't you?'

'But, what was Miss Hale thinking? Gallivanting about town at dawn. She must understand that such actions will likely bring shame and discredit to her and her family. She must be warned against such impropriety!'

'That is exactly my point, Mother. She was not thinking clearly. She is in a state of deep distress at the prospect of losing her mother. She deserves our deepest sympathy and tolerance at present. She needs our friendship.'

Mrs Thornton rolled her eyes and and gave one of her expressive snorts at the idea of Miss Hale needing anyone's sympathy. 'It is still no excuse for her behavior if you ask me.'

John was beginning to show his irritation. 'Mother, why do you object to Miss Hale?'

'How can you not object?' she countered. 'I want to know how you can continue to give your attentions to the girl who rejected you? You are blinded by your feelings for her John.' Mrs Thornton straightened the tablecloth in agitation. 'A foolish son is indeed a grief to his mother..' she said under her breath.

John left the dinner table to pour himself a drink. 'Perhaps I am being foolish Mother. But it is my heart and my life at stake here – not yours. Please do not hate her for making choices she is free to make. And please do not wish upon me a wife who agrees to marry me just because I am an eligible prospect. If ever a woman does agree to marry me, I want her to do it because she loves me.'

'You are being a sentimental fool, John. Romantic love is a whimsy. A good marriage, a strong marriage is a union based on respect and living up to your mutual obligations.'

John mused at his eternally practical mother. 'But should it follow that you cannot have one without the other?'

'That has been my experience,' muttered Mrs Thornton, looking away from John.

John moved to sit beside his mother. 'I am a grown man. I know you care about me, but you must trust me to make my own decision on the matter. ' Hesitating for a moment he added, 'You know, Miss Hale is not unlike you in many ways.'

Mrs Thornton looked aghast.

'I am perfectly serious Mother.'

'How so? How could that be?'

Mr Thornton took his mother's hand. 'Like you she is strong and bears her responsibilities to her family without complaint – regardless of how much she may be hurting. She is fiercely proud, but not vain like many other girls we know. She has a keenness of mind and a sharpness of tongue that I both admire and resent, for I fear she could best me in any argument if we were put to the test.' John smiled. 'Yes, she reminds me of you in many ways.'

'Perhaps. But you cannot say that we behave alike,' said Mrs Thornton in a sulk. 'Her and her mother they act like they are such fine ladies - with airs and graces - when they barely have two shillings to rub together.'

John sat back in his chair. 'Miss Hale and her mother spent many years in London. They have moved in very different circles. It is only natural that this experience will have affected their manners and attitudes. It is hardly fair to criticize them for their gentility is it?'

Mrs Thornton was not ready to concede. 'I still say you are blind to her John. You make her sound like an angel. But I see her flaws. I only pray to God one day that your eyes are open to them too.'

'On the contrary, I am very aware of her faults. She can be opinionated and far too quick to judge people and situations. She is stubborn and frank – sometimes to a fault. And when it comes to her family she is weak. She will sacrifice her own needs to put them first.' John frowned, 'Indeed her devotion to her family clouds her judgment at times.'

'How you sound like you know her John,' said Mrs Thornton cynically. 'Well, you may sketch our likenesses all you like, but there is one material difference between Miss Hale and I that you seem to be forgetting.'

John raised his eyebrows in expectation of her response.

'Whilst I love you unconditionally with every fiber of my being - she does not.' Mrs Thornton looked smug.

'Thank you for reminding me Mother.' John got out of his seat to refresh his drink.

Seeing she had pained her son, Mrs Thornton softened her tone. 'Surely you do not still hold hope of marrying the girl?'

John strolled with his drink over to the mantle piece over the fireplace. Resting his foot on a piece of firewood, he reached out to touch the frame holding a likeness of his father. 'I have not lost hope Mother' he said softly before turning to look at her. 'But I promise I will not make her another offer until I am sure she cares for me as much as I do her.' Throwing back his drink in the awkwardness of the moment John then said, 'Enough of Miss Hale. Where did you say Fanny was tonight?'

'Dining with Mrs Watson, Mr Watson's mother. It looks like Fanny will soon have her own mother-in-law to contend with.'

John chuckled. "I guess that will mean a wedding to pay for too,' he said rubbing his forehead in contemplation. 'Would it be too much for me to hope that Fanny will only want a small affair?'

Mrs Thornton rolled her eyes and smirked a little at the thought of her only daughter economising. 'Yes I am afraid that Fanny has grand plans.'

As John began to stoke the fire, his Mother asked, 'How are the orders?'

'The orders are fine Mother, but we are still behind. It is the labour that is the problem. I am sending some more of the incompetent Irish back home this week. I need the skilled men back…and they want to come back, I think.'

'Not that they deserve their jobs back,' snarled Mrs Thornton. 'Not after the way they behaved on the day of the riot. They should all be locked up and the key thrown away.'

'They were desperate Mother. Desperate people do foolish things.'

'How righteous you have become John. Next you will be forgiving Satan himself for his transgressions.' Shaking her head his mother said 'I cannot forgive so easily.'

'Perhaps you should try Mother. Letting go of bitterness may give way to compassion and kindness and most importantly peace – which we could all do with right now.'

Mrs Thornton didn't look convinced. 'So when the skilled workers go back to work, will things return to the way they were?'

'I don't know. I don't know whether any of it will matter in the end. Whether any of it will be enough to rescue us from…'

'Ruin?' Mrs Thornton offered.

'Let's hope it won't go that far Mother.' John looked at the Grandfather clock and saw that it was about to chime 8 o'clock. 'Well if you will excuse me, I think I will try and do a couple more hours work before I retire. Good night Mother.' Kissing her on the cheek, he strode from the room.

Later, as John sat behind his desk trying to focus on his accounts, he couldn't help but let his mind wonder to the events of the day. To think he could have been announcing his engagement to his mother this evening. John smirked at the reaction he imagined he would have gotten.

John had come close to accepting Margaret. He was ashamed to admit that part of him wanted to secure her hand – even if she did not love him - so that at least she would never belong to anyone else. The other part of him, the one that wanted her to love him as much as he loved her, cried out that such an arrangement could never make him happy.

He was glad in the end that he had come to his senses. He could not have forgiven himself for taking advantage of Margaret when she was in such a miserable state. He wanted love and respect, not gratitude and indebtedness. He had used harsh words at her, but he felt the situation had justified them. It was unlikely that she had spoken to her parents of her scheme before arriving this morning or else he was sure that they would have counseled her against it. Absurdly, the task had been left to him to correct her lapse in propriety.

Margaret had made it clear this morning that she did not love him. But it would seem that the idea of marrying him did not repulse her as it had before. In truth her words this morning had given him hope. Hope that there was still a chance for them. Hope that perhaps her regard for him was growing.

John wondered if Margaret would suspect that he was the one paying for her mother's treatment. How would she react? He hoped she would see his generosity for what it was - a gesture of friendship – and accept it gracefully, without protest. He prayed she would not choose to see it as an attempt to procure her affection.

John threw down his quill, deciding to abandon his work. As he put on his coat he began formulating a plan.

If there was any chance for them, he and Margaret needed an opportunity to start over. To put aside their differences, and try to understand each other better.

There would be sad days ahead for the Hales, and John was determined to be a friend to Margaret and her father. He knew what it was like to bear the burden of grief. He did not want them to go through it alone.

It would be difficult for him to make time due to the difficulties with the mill, but he would make an effort. The more he thought about it the more certain he became about what course of action he should take.

He was resolved to become a more regular companion of the Hales. And he would start by going to Crampton tomorrow.

Extinguishing the lamp in his office, John lit his candle and braced himself for the rush of cold air as he made his way back to the house.