Jack walked out of the rectory, needing some fresh air. It had been such a long day; he needed some time to clear his head. He had not experienced so much commotion in one day in a long time, probably since he was at Guys with Frank and there had been a flu epidemic. It was a great way for them to learn, but even for a doctor it was almost too much to look at so many people suffering so severely. He released a sigh as he walked through the Cranford countryside trying to reflect on the events of the past few hours. Whilst journeying towards Cranford, Mary's letter constantly plaguing him, he could never have fathomed the day going as it had; performing a laborious operation which did not end the way they all wanted it to, and treating a girl with a critical illness that could have killed her. It was truly a grim day. The weather seemed to reflect the day that they had, the sky grey, with rain threatening to drench the whole county. Jack looked up at the sky and let out another long sigh. His mind went back to Mr. Carter, how he was convinced at the likely end of his life. He had heard him say to Miss Galindo to bring a pen and ink, in order to draw up a will, Jack was certain. Despite this certainty, he had not told Frank this. He thought it would have done him no good to know that his patient saw death as the likely end of his procedure. His mind then turned to Miss Galindo and the unbelievable despair he had seen in her pretty, brown eyes. Jack would not have expected so strong a reaction from, what he assumed was, a mere acquaintance. Perhaps her feelings for the gentleman were more than just those of a friend, and if they were then Miss Galindo deserved his compassion. The sudden loss of someone dear could tax the strongest of characters.

The rain started to pour down on him. Jack was content to remain where he was, relishing the touch of the cool water on his body. He tilted his head up to the sky and gave out a sigh of relief as the water fell on his face and trickled down. It felt as a sort of cleansing, the guilt and the blame that had fallen upon him after what he had done, having weighed very heavily upon him. He felt as if the dark shade that had fallen on him was now lifting and he could finally breathe, he could finally smile. His mind went back to his friend and how much trouble and pain he had gotten him into. He hoped with all his heart that Frank could forgive him for his foolishness and his inability to see where the line was. He felt that he had on this tumultuous day, and perhaps their friendship had been partially recovered. He had never regretted an action as much as he did this. He had made mistakes in his life, just like many others, but nothing of this calibre.

He did feel that Frank could forgive him eventually though; he had such a kind heart, not built for resentment. Jack feared however that he had lost the affection of the one woman he could see actually living the rest of his life with, and that would not do. If she would not have him, then at least Jack would endeavour to recover his footing with her so much so that he may at least call her a friend. That at least would allow him the privilege of seeing her, speaking to her more intimately, hearing her voice. How he wanted to go to her. She hadn't let him apologise when he first arrived, and that bothered him. More than anything, her coldness hurt him. He needed to go talk to her, but now was not the time, it was late and Jack remembered Frank telling him that the Jenkyns' household had very strict calling hours, per the late Miss Deborah's rules. It was certainly too late now and besides he wasn't fit to be seen. He thought it best to call on her the next day; he had some explaining to do and he hoped that Miss Matty would allow him to truly express his apologies to both of them. He needed Mary to know that he was truly remorseful for what he did. He needed to look into her beautiful, expressive eyes and know that he was forgiven.

He walked into the George, which was situated in the centre of the town. He was completely wet through, so he bathed and dressed himself again. After ringing for some tea, he sat in a chair by a window, letting his mind rest a little and watched the town go by as the rain slowly stopped and the streets started to fill with people once more. Then as he sipped his tea, he noticed the figure that he recognized immediately. Mary; she was sitting on a stone bench with her back to him but he knew it was her. He stood up, quickly pulling on his coat as he went outside. He stopped a little before approaching her. Jack was mindful that this had been a trying day for her as well. He was perhaps the last person she wanted to see. But he remembered the look in her eyes when they were standing together in the surgery. He was certain that he had seen something akin to tenderness in her eyes. This hope, as well as his own determination, was what spurred him on, and he moved to sit down on the bench next to her. The sun was coming out from behind the clouds, the two of them had not looked at each other yet, but there was an underlying acknowledgement that they had both felt.

'Have you heard? Sophie Hutton is on the mend. Frank was able to bring her through, and we hope that she will make a quick recovery.' He looked at her, and though she didn't look up at him, she had a small smile on her face.

'I am glad.' Was all she said. Jack pressed on.

'This news at least will, I hope, bring you some comfort. The outcome with Mr. Carter being the last thing any of us wanted.' Jack looked down as he said this. As a doctor, he is often confronted with death. That, however, had not lessened his sadness at the phenomenon, at a life, full of potential, cut short. Empathy was key to any person, but to a doctor especially. He did not notice that Mary was now looking at him.

'Mr. Carter was an excellent man. He is sure to be mourned by all of Cranford.'

'I do not doubt it.' Jack replied, smiling sadly at her. They looked at one another, then returned their gazes at the street. They watched the people go by as Jack said, 'You may have a career in nursing in your future, Miss Smith. Trained professionals at Guy's are not as steadfast as you.' His voice was lighter now as he spoke. It was her turn to smile sadly and shake her head.

'You exaggerate, Dr. Marshland. I did nothing so important.' She said in her modest way. Jack smiled at that and patted her hand. There was comfortable understanding between them and they sat in silence for a while. The church bell rang out the hour, and Jack realising how late it was realising how late it was stood and once again offered his hand to her,

'May I walk you to your door, Miss Smith?' He looked straight into her eyes, and as he watched them sparkle he felt a sensation of pure elation. She looked at him and gave him her hand. They walked arm in arm down Cranford main-street in a comfortable silence, ignoring the surprised looks of the passer's by. They arrived at the Jenkyns's house and Jack watched as she climbed the step to the house and she turned to face him.

'Thank you Dr. Marshland.' The words, so simple, and yet to Jack they meant so much. He finally saw in her eyes what he wanted to see, her forgiveness; he was sure of it. The relief that he felt was indescribable. He smiled at the lady,

'It was my pleasure, Miss Smith. I do hope I will see you again very soon.' He watched as she walked into the house and then turned to walk back down to the George. He was forgiven, that was all that mattered and as he walked into his room, he had one thing on his mind; the confession, he knew that he needed to tell her, he saw in her eyes that her affection for him could be equal to his. With such a notion as that he couldn't keep it to himself much longer, it would drive him mad. He had never expected to feel so strongly about any woman he would meet; but then he had never met a woman quite like Mary. She was one of a kind. As he strolled down Princess Street, his mind was invariably on Mary and indeed his own folly.