Margaret woke in an exceptional mood, as she had all this week. Her walk with John had lifted her spirits considerably. She had missed his company and was glad they were speaking again. In her secret heart she was encouraged that he had sought her out on Sunday. His apology had been sincere. But she dared not hope further than that.

She owed her renewed friendship with Mr Thornton to Mr Bell – she was certain of that. It had been frightfully assuming of him to intervene. But if he hadn't… Margaret despaired at the thought of their hopeless impasse enduring.

Readying herself for her day at the school, Margaret smiled at herself in the looking glass. She wondered when she would see John again. Since commencing his lessons with her father at Marlborough Street he had not called at Crampton. She wondered whether perhaps he may resume his study in her father's home now that they were reconciled. It was a conceited thought, but one that Margaret couldn't help taking great delight in.

Her musings were interrupted by a knock at her bedroom. A little ashamed of her trifling thoughts, she chastised herself before gathering her shawl and opening the door.

'Goodmorning Dixon.'

'Goodmorning Miss. If you are nearly ready Miss Margaret, Mrs Phillips is downstairs to see you.' Dixon turned to leave before saying over her shoulder, 'And if you don't mind me saying so she seems terribly excited about something so I think you should make haste lest she bursts.'

Margaret grinned. Mrs Phillips was a lively person on most occasions. But when she was excited she was irrepressible. Making her way down the stairs Margaret could hear the lady wheezing as she paced the room. Mrs Phillips – who was taller and broader than Margaret by half and at least three times her age - pulled Margaret into her embrace before she could even make her entry through the doorway.

'Mrs Phillips, to what do I owe this pleasure? Can I fetch you some tea?' Margaret was genuinely pleased to see her friend. Much of what she had achieved with the school could be credited to this influential lady and Margaret was grateful beyond words.

'Oh my dear, you are a sly fox. Surely you did not think you could keep it from me for long. You know there is not much that happens in this town without me knowing about it.'

Margaret's brow furrowed. 'I don't know what you mean Mrs Phillips.'

'Come now. I was at George Street this very morning. Oh I can't tell you how many ideas I have for the bizarre. And now that the new infant school is nearly ready we can get started on the planning..'

Margaret shook her head in confusion. 'Mrs Phillips, you are not making any sense.'

'The workmen are nearly finished at the school. I spoke with the foreman. They have installed three new windows and replaced others. Today they will repair some floor boards and finish painting….'

'Mrs Phillips, you must be mistaken. I have not authorised any works on George Street.'

'I swear on the grave of my beloved Henry that I speak the truth. Someone must have authorised it. Perhaps Mr Bell?'

Margaret began to search through her purse.

'You look distracted Margaret. Are you unwell?'

Margaret appeared not to hear Mrs Phillips.

'Margaret?'

'What?..Oh, I'm sorry.' Margaret felt dazed trying to collect her thoughts. 'I am just surprised by it all. Did the foreman not say who he had taken instructions from?'

'Well no, my dear. But I did not ask as I assumed it was you.'

'Mrs Phillips, I'm sorry but I must go to George Street this instant and speak to the foreman. It is clear that either this is an enormous mistake on the part of the workmen and they have repaired the wrong property, or we are the recipient of the unstinting kindness of a friend. I am quite compelled to find out which it is.'

Margaret walked to the front door with Mrs Phillips.

'Of course my dear. I am expected at the vicarage in an hour – but I would gladly delay if you would you like me to come with you Margaret?'

'No, thank you Mrs Phillips, I shan't keep you from your engagement. But I promise I will call on you tomorrow once I have solved the mystery.'

Mrs Phillips smiled greedily at the thought of a delicious secret that she would soon be privy to.

Margaret strode with purpose to the old part of town. As she hurried up New Street, several townsfolk waved and smiled to her. She acknowledged them but did not stop to speak.

As she reached her building she was immediately struck by the profound difference in the structure. As she made her way inside, fresh beams of light reflected off crisp white walls, transforming the room from its former grotto like existence. New window panes sparkled, replacing dusty broken glass and frames that had been boarded up. New holes had been made in other walls to let the sun in. The smell of paint stung her nose and made her eyes water – or was that from another reason entirely? She did not know for sure.

'Hello Miss?' Margaret turned to find a burly man with an unruly black beard flecked with white paint.

Quickly blotting at her eyes she stammered. 'Hello.. I was wondering if you could tell me how it is you came to be working here? I mean who authorised you to be here, doing this, painting and repairing I mean.' Even to her own ears Margaret sounded incoherent.

'And who would be asking?'

'Oh, I'm sorry. My name is Margaret Hale. I am the new tenant for this building – or at least I am the tenant in name. A Mr Bell owns the building but he had not informed me that any such works would be taking place.'

The foreman ran his fingers through his beard. 'Never heard of a Mr Bell.' The man grinned. There was barely a tooth left in his mouth. 'Where's my manners, Oswald Hodge, Miss.' He tipped his cap.

Margaret felt a little frustrated by the man's evasion of her original question. 'Well you certainly are doing a fine job here Mr Hodge. I was here only three days ago, and well, I must say I am amazed by all that has been completed.'

'Well when someone like the Master says he wants something done – Oswald Hodge makes sure it gets done. I have had my men working night and day since Monday morning. We should be nearly done by week's end.'

Margaret's heart stung with anticipation. 'Sir, I beg you. Please tell me who instructed you to commence work here? Who is this Master you refer to?'

Margaret sat across from the large oak desk. The ticking of the clock echoed in the cold silence of the room. She had watched the spiny black hands change through every minute of the last thirty.

As she waited, Margaret recalled the last time she had sat in this very seat. So much had happened since that time. She winced thinking of her conduct that day. It was a time when she had felt friendless and alone. Desperate and naïve she offered herself like some possession to be traded in return for her mother's life. Oh how had he bore it? Knowing that as she tried to buy his favors, he had already bestowed them willingly by opening his pocket book to Dr Donaldson. How she had misjudged him.

Sometimes she could not help wondering what might have happened had things turned out differently that day. Had John accepted her on those terms. Would she love him as she does now? Or would any hope within her have died that day knowing that the man she was to wed did not care whether she loved him or not.

John knew better than her.

And here she sat, once again the recipient of his generosity. Only this time she would not act in such a vulgar way. This time she would show him gratitude and appreciation. Show him that she could be graceful in the acceptance of his aid.

Out in the hall she heard footsteps that then seemed to pause at the door. Margaret's heart thudded and her palms were moist. In her nervous state panic set in and a host of thoughts swarmed her mind. Should she even have come to the Mill? He was a busy man. Would he be cross and consider her presumptuous? Should she have waited for him to come to her – or would that have seemed ungrateful? How should she sit? Should she look at the floor? Or straight ahead? 'Take a deep breath Margaret,' she told herself.

'Margaret.' His deep voice set her heart to a romping pace now.

Margaret's head whipped up in shock appearing like she had not been expecting him. She met his eyes and saw that they were at ease; there was a hint of a smile in the lines that surrounded them.

She stood as he walked into the office but he motioned for her to sit. Instead of taking his place in the chair across the desk, John sat in the twin seat adjacent to her. He sat back and let his smile spread freely across his face now.

Margaret felt herself blush and looked at her feet. 'I'm sorry to interrupt your day Mr Thornton. '

'No apology required. I could not think of a more welcome distraction. '

Margaret now felt like her whole body was covered in a hot flush. 'Mr Thornton, I was just at George Street. I spoke with Mr Hodge.'

John gave the look of a man found out. 'Ah. I had hoped to keep that a surprise for a little longer. What gave it away? Your missing key?'

'No I am ashamed to say that I had not even noticed it missing. No indeed it was from another source entirely. Mrs Phillips..'

John laughed out loud. 'Of course. Who else? Next time I should make her a party to my scheme as it is clear that nothing can be concealed from her.'

'Mrs Phillips is a very good woman and a superb ally. You would do well from the association.' Once again they laughed. 'But in all seriousness, it certainly was a surprise. You are too generous. I just hope you do not think that I showed you the building on Sunday in order to evoke a charitable response. I must declare my only intention was to share my plans for the school with a friend.' Margaret's tone softened with those last words.

He seemed pleased. 'Are you happy with what you saw?'

'Yes, delighted. But the cost? I know the Mill is still …'

John held up his hand to quell her concerns. 'It cost me naught but the recovery of a debt owed to me. I did a favour for Mr Hodge once and I decided it was as good a time as any to collect on it.'

'Well I am indebted to you now. You will let me know if I can repay the favour by any means?

John rubbed his chin in mock contemplation. 'Miss Hale, you really should be more careful. One of these days I may actually take you up on one of your proposals.'

Margaret was embarassed. He remembered too.

John, though clearly having enjoyed discomposing her, returned to the subject of the renovation. His tone now was more subdued. "In truth you owe me nothing. I only hope that this will act as further proof of my remorse at my recent behaviour towards you.'

Margaret shook her head in protest.

John would not be silenced. 'The letter, and then my behaviour at the dinner with Mr Bell.. It was unforgiveable of me to insult you in front of your father like that. I was carried away by pride and jealousy. I cannot think of either offence without abhorrence.' John looked directly at Margaret. 'You must allow me to begin to atone for it in this small way.'

Margaret did not speak, but gave him a reassuring look.

'I will instruct Hodge to return your key once he is finished. I am only sorry I won't be here to see it finished before you move the children.'

Margaret faltered. 'Are you going away?' She tried to hide the distress she felt at the thought of him leaving.

'I'm afraid so.' John rolled his eyes and sighed. 'I am accompanying Fanny to London tomorrow to assemble her trousseau.'

'Oh, yes I had heard that Miss Thornton was to be married. To Mr..?'

'Watson's his name. It is a good match for Fanny. Perhaps more fortunate than she merits.'

'Well I do wish them both felicity in marriage. When is the happy event?'

'Six weeks on Friday. You and your father will come won't you?'

Margaret nodded. 'If Miss Thornton desires it?'

'What if I desire it?' asked John brazenly.

Margaret was surprised by his evident teasing and flirtation. It was so unlike the responsible and serious Master of Marlborough Mill and Magistrate that most people saw. She was all at once enjoying this repartee and yet uncertain as to how to respond. 'Well then my father and I will certainly make ourselves available.' Margaret looked down shyly before asking 'Will you be away in London long?'

John leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees a small grin playing at his lips. 'It is difficult to say. I have some other… business to attend to. A week or two perhaps.'

Margaret thought he looked like there was something else he wanted to say but was holding back. 'Will Mrs Thornton be travelling with you?'

John chortled. 'No. My mother detests town. My sister's friend, Miss Latimer will assist Fanny with her purchases. So I am spared. I will only be tasked with paying for it all.'