CHAPTER IV
Coming to Tea

"Consult not your fears but your hopes and dreams. Think not about your frustrations, but about your unfulfilled potential. Concern yourself not with what you tried and failed, but with what it is still possible for you to do." - St. John XXIII

It was a refreshingly cool Sunday morning in Milton when Lord Bell, accompanied by the Hales and the Shaws, arrived for church a few minutes early and sat at their normal pews in the Milton Cathedral. The seating inside, as by Milton norm, was designated by rank. As dragon rider (the only one of two left) and sole surviving High Mage of the Bell Clan, Lord Bell sat at the front pew on the left hand side facing the altar. To his left was Margaret, Edith and Fred Hale (the double). Lord and Lady Shaw sat with Lord and Lady Hale behind Lord Bell. Fred Barbour (the true Fred) sat towards the back with the other attendants. Queen Hannah came punctually with her son and daughter. Upon seeing Lord Bell, a heavy frown formed on her face as she looked disapprovingly at Lord Bell's pew, "The nerve of this man, to sit his "common relatives" at such a privileged spot. It should be filled by other mage masters, not commoners. That's the Milton way," she muttered to her son, John who quickly shot her a sharp glance, "Mother, please. You know how it offends me to hear your speak so. Lord Bell is our friend and Lord Shaw is your brother. Be civil, please," John said under his breath, in an attempt to silence his mother from continuing her remarks. "So we are to be civil, to these Hales, are we?" Hannah snorted back to her son as they approached their pew. Lord Bell, ignoring Hannah's look of disapproval, smiled full of felicity at her. He stood up with the rest of his family, bowing and curtsying to show respects to the Queen and the first family of Milton.

Although Hannah outwardly showed disapproval, she quite admired her childhood friend for his courage to follow his heart, no matter the cost or obstacles. Adam had always been the odd duck amongst his brothers; whereas they excelled in the martial arts of fencing, hand to hand combat and advanced weaponry, Lord Bell excelled in academics and diplomacy. He always had keen observation skills and could understand the heart of the matter quickly. Whereas his brothers would use brawn to get their way, Lord Bell would use incentives and negotiate a win-win solution. He was critical to the war effort: his negotiated agreements funded most of the extensive cost of the campaign. Whereas once he was ridiculed, for marrying a commoner instead of another mage; he now had the love and respect of all of Milton, due mostly to his contributions during the war and the reconstruction, and for his generous and very affable personality. "How I envy you, Lord Bell. You don't seek people's good opinions, yet you have them nonetheless. Everyone is so accepting and forgiving of your past behavior. I, a woman in this man's world, must work so very hard each and every day to earn and maintain such respect as befitting a queen. It comes to you with such ease," Hannah thought with pride for her friend, and no little envy.

Queen Hannah led her children to their usual seats on the front pew to the right of the altar directly across from Lord Bell's pew. Fanny kept glancing across and looked enviously at the outfits of Edith and Margaret. They were wearing the best of London fashion and looked very smart in their Sunday dresses. Edith was a vision in a light periwinkle lace A-line dress with long sleeves adorned by pearl buttons with a matching french hood veil. Margaret looked regal in a very elegant, yet much simpler, silver empire waist satin dress with shimmering chiffon sleeves topped by a very feminine matching silver top hat veil. With a sigh. Fanny looked at her own outfit with discontent, thinking, "These London girls always look so much more in current fashion than us Milton girls. Why does the latest fashion always comes so late to Milton?" Always so engrossed with her own selfish thoughts, Fanny did not notice that her brother, John, was also stealing admiring glances towards Ms. Hale discreetly, so as not to be noticed. But he did not succeed—nothing escaped Queen Hannah as she observed, with growing prickliness, how her children paid more attention to the pew across them than to the service.

Meanwhile, Margaret remained oblivious to the envious and admiring glances she and Edith were receiving from the whole congregation. She was too occupied admiring the Cathedral of Milton. Margaret, a churchwoman, was in awe of its magnificence. She had only seen pictures of it before. But, somehow, those paled in comparison to the majestic sight she beheld before her. The Romanesque architecture with round arches, flying buttresses, large marble pillars, stained glass windows and the splendid octagonal glass dome with its ornate gold trim seemed to work together in perfect unity to draw all the light in and fill the space with radiant beams. It was very easy to feel close to the Almighty in such a place. "This place is fit for choirs of angels to sing. All sound reverberates perfectly and it all works in harmony. What an awe-inspiring structure! What a work of genius this glorious place is." Margaret thought with deep appreciation, moved by what she saw.

Before long, the church service ended. With a quick reminder from Fanny about coming for afternoon tea, a brisk nod from Lord John Thornton, and a pointed look of haughtiness from Queen Hannah; Margaret left arm in arm with Edith escorted by the two Freds. All four walked contently, chatting most amicably and in such a familiar manner that the short walk to the Market Square seemed briefer than usual. The party leisurely strolled down the Market Square for some quick shopping and a luncheon at a nearby, upscale restaurant. Margaret halted in front of a stand, picking up some fine-quality biscuits for her father and mother. She also stopped by Milton's finest tea house to buy some aromatic herbal tea for her grandfather.

While paying for the fresh yellow roses she picked out for her mother and aunt, a water elemental whispered to her, "Help us! It's killing us! Come, please! Help us!" Margaret, alarmed by the plea, quickly followed unaware that the Freds and Edith did not notice her departure as they were momentarily distracted looking at a shop window display. "To the poplar trees ahead," the elemental said as it disappeared into the air. Margaret gazed ahead and glimpsed poplar trees partially hidden by some low lying buildings. She strode towards them, soon realizing the distance was much further than she expected. Margaret, not being familiar with the city, was soon lost after a wrong turn or two. The streets meandered, became crooked and narrower. Margaret, looking around, grew apprehensive. She had entered the side of town where the factory people walked. Unfortunately, at that moment they came thronging through the street. They frightened her with their frank and fearless manner. Their harsh, out-spoken comments and undisguised admiration of her personal appearance distressed her deeply. Their jests and loud laughs frightened her, as they were aimed particularly at her. She was an easy target. She was obviously above their station and did not belong in the factory district. 'Out of her fright came a flash of indignation which made her face scarlet, and her eyes gather flame as she heard some of their speeches.'

A middle-age workman took pity on her and hollered at the others, "Leave the lass, alone! Go on. On with you." After a pause, the poorly dressed workman looked at her with an apologetic smile, "Sorry, miss, if you've been offended. They mean nothing by it. 'Your bonny face, my lass, makes their day look brighter. Pardon the impertinence.'" The man's demeanor was so genuinely sorry and 'careworn that Margaret could not help but give an answering smile, glad to think that her looks, such as they were, should have the power to' brighten someone's day.

"You are lost, are you not, lass? Where are you going?"

"I want to go to the poplar trees ahead, but I don't know the way," she replied, pointing towards the poplar trees still elusively distant.

"You want to go to the central park in Princeton District?" he said, looking disbelievingly at her. "Girls of your station do not go there, lassy. That's no place for a fine lady like you," he warned sternly.

Margaret taken aback by his stern warning began to waver, but soon regained her purpose, as she swallowed all her doubt, she replied with determination, "Nevertheless, that is where I wish to go. Can you show me how to get there?"

He kept looking at her with concern, "Very well," after a short pause, he continued, "I was on my way there to meet my daughter for luncheon. I shall escort you, if you wish," the workman said uncertainly. He could not figure for the life of him why such a fine young lady would want to be anywhere near the low-class and poor district of Princeton.

"Thank you very much, sir. I am much obliged to you." Margaret replied with a slight curtsy and a sweet smile.

"Alright, lass. But, I'm no sir. Just a plain workman. Are you sure about going to the park?" When Margaret nodded, he shrugged in surrender, "Hmph. Don't say I did not warn you... Follow me," the workman said with an exaggerated bow. Margaret smiled genuinely at his kindly gesture and, after a short inquiry, she found out that his name was Nicolas Higgins. After a few minutes' walk, they approached the Princeton central park located in the middle of the Princeton housing projects.

The park was shaped like a racing oval with walking paths on the outside lanes. In the middle of the rectangular section of the park, three goodly sized poplars stood tall in three huge circular cement planters. Flanking the poplars were dozens of rectangular planters six feet in length, four feet in width, and three feet in depth where tubers, vegetables and fruits were growing as a sort of victory garden. Margaret quickly noticed that something was wrong with the rectangular planters. Some of the leaves were beginning to brown and the stems were looking dry and brittle. As she got closer, she noticed that the water undines, the spirits helping the plants grow, were choking—unable to seep their nourishing power into the soil—thus preventing the plants' hydration. "That's odd," Margaret thought. As she looked closely at one of the planters, she noticed a faint shimmer on the loam. She reached down, brushing her fingertips gently against the surface of the dirt. Something had placed an almost invisible sheeting on the soil, magically preventing it from being watered. The undines trying to help hydrate the soil were getting trapped and choked by a net that emanated from the sheeting. She was so absorbed with helping the water elementals that she did not notice the amazed look from a young but sickly fair-haired girl staring at her curiously.

"You can see them too," the young girl said. Her light blue eyes wide in amazement and gladness. "They called you." After a pause, she looked intently at Margaret then smiled broadly, gushing, "You are here to help, thanks be the Light." With a grateful smile and an apologizing frown, she added, "I didn't know what to do. We are losing the produce. These garden plots are my father's finest achievement. The produce here saves the community money and prevents us from starving. He is part of a committee that organizes our district. He convinced every workingman here to pay a penny a week to make this planting project a reality, and now it is failing." Stepping closer to Margaret, the girl pleaded, "I asked the undines to bring help when I couldn't fix the problem. You have come at last. Please help us, miss."

Margaret could not refuse the pleading look of the girl, an Earth hedge like her. Against her grandfather's express wishes that she should never reveal her gift, she nodded her assent to the girl's plea.

"Oh, thank you, miss. You do us a great service."

"On one condition though."

"Of course, name it"

"Well, two really. One, will you tell me your name please?"

"Oh, I am Bessie Higgins, that there is my father, Nicolas. He is a committeeman of the Princeton district." Bessie added with pride.

"Oh, yes, I met him earlier," Margaret said nodding at Nicolas, and with a friendly smile to Bessie she added, "Very pleased to meet you, Ms. Higgins. My name is Margaret Hale," Margaret said with a slight curtsy and a bow of her head.

Bessie laughed at the fancy gesture from such a fine lady. "This is Princeton, Miss, not High Street. Please, call me Bessie. No one has ever called me Ms. Higgins."

"Very well, Bessie. Please call me Margaret."

"Now, may I inquire if there are omnipters stationed about, recording on camera what goes on here?"

"Omnipters, here?" Bessie asked incredulously. "Of course not. If the authorities install some, they will see the true treatment of us "hands." Heaven forbid that they be forced to do something about all the abuses, we have to endure from the masters," Bessie said with a look of disdain at the order of things in Milton.

"Thank the authorities for that neglect." Margaret mockingly commented back, dissatisfaction plain in her tone. She had observed how very stratified Milton society was and how the poor were treated with contempt. "As if the poor deserved to be punished for being poor and unsuccessful. These mages call themselves masters of Milton. But they don't know the first thing to being a true master. So worried they are about profit and loss, the well-being of their working class does not even enter their mind or heart." Margaret thought with disgust of the Milton masters. She spoke with a genial smile to Bessie, "pray, thank their neglect indeed. I would not have been able to help otherwise. As my grandfather would definitely not approve." Margaret replied in relief with a such a look of feigned derision that Bessie could not help but laugh. Her laugh was soon joined by a coughing fit that concerned Margaret and Nicolas, seeing this Bessie hurriedly reassured them, "I am fine. Just have a cough I could not shift."

"'I'm afraid you are not very strong,'" Margaret asked, very concerned, for her new friend.

"'No, nor never will be.'"

"There are still a few weeks of summer left to get better," said Margaret, as if to suggest pleasant, hopeful thoughts.

"Summer or any good weather will do me no good. I'll be lucky to live another year."

'Margaret looked up at Nicolas, almost expecting some contradiction from him, or at least some remark that would modify his daughter's utter hopelessness' but he gave none. Uncomfortable at the morbid turn of the conversation, Margaret changed the topic, and in her most cheerful tone said, "Well, the warm days of summer should help at least even a little, better than the bleak days of winter, surely." Bessie laughed again at the comical grimace Margaret made as she said the "bleak days of winter" in low tones and with emphasis.

Margaret pleased to see her friend laugh, continued kindly, "Now, my second condition... and this I ask for both our sakes." In all seriousness and with deep gravity she added, "no one must know what I am doing. It is for both our protection. You would not want to reveal our hedge gifts to the authorities who would undoubtedly send us "to the press" and force us into indentured servitude to the state, do you?" At their fierce shaking of heads in the negative, Margaret thought quickly for an explanation to give inquisitive minds, said firmly. "If asked, you will say I am just doing charity work here and donating some elixirs and soil treatments to improve the yield. That is if someone asked and you must answer, but otherwise, I would request for you to remain silent on the matter. Can you make this solemn promise that you will never reveal what you will observe me doing here, no matter what circumstance or who asked?" Father and daughter nodded quickly their agreement. Satisfied. Margaret nodded and said, "I will hold you to that promise. Pray! Don't forget it for it will put my liberty in jeopardy and cause much heartache for my family. I should not have even shown you that I could see the undines," after a pause, Margaret said firmly, "But, what's done is done." She pulled herself up, mentally settling herself on the course of action she had chosen. She turned to Bessie and inquired, "Why don't you tell me about the garden plots? What do you know of the problem?"

Seeing how engrossed in conversation about the plots the two young lassies seemed to be, Nicolas excused himself to go to his family's apartment to grab a quick luncheon before returning to work at end of the rest period. During their conversations, Margaret found out that Bessie had recently quit factory work due to her illness and now was focusing on tending the gardens. Bessie told Margaret that she did not understand what was going on. When she was working—only tending the gardens part-time—the yield from the plots was more than triple what they currently was producing. Bessie was able to see and talk in a rudimentary manner to the undines, but could not understand what was happening. She could not trace magic and did not see what was choking the undines nor what was killing the garden plants.

Margaret explained to Bessie what she observed and what she would like to try to help fix the problem. She told Bessie that she would need to return back several more times with some solutions to remove the barrier on the soil preventing the water to seep it. "But, for now. Let me try and help free the trapped undines." Margaret started humming and the soil underneath the nearly invisible sheeting started to move, freeing the undines. Bessie clapped with delight at seeing this miracle, thanking Margaret profusely. Margaret blushed at the compliment, downplayed her efforts, and warned Bessie that they still have much to do until the soil could be healthy enough for the plants to recover.

Bessie and Margaret soon became fast friends. They discovered that they were almost of the same age and shared a great passion for herbology. Margaret liked the pleasant, frank and open temperament of her new friend while Bessie admired the regal elegance, humbleness, and caring compassionate nature of her remarkably handsome friend. The time had passed pleasantly in the park for the two until Margaret heard Bessie's stomach grumble with hunger. Concerned for her sickly friend, she offered her the biscuit and tea she bought at Market Square.

Bessie, touched by the offer, invited Margaret up to the small one room apartment she shared with her father, Nicolas, and younger sister, Mary. While Bessie boiled the water for the tea, Margaret laid out her purchases on the table of the very sparsely furnished, damp and dark apartment. Margaret opened one biscuit tin and handed Bessie several tea bags to steep. Feeling bad at the derelict living conditions of her new friends, Margaret gave the rest of the biscuit tins and tea pouches to Mary as a special treat the Higgins family could enjoy later. When the girls began to protest, she told them that it was not a bother and to please accept her humble gifts for welcoming her in their home. At Margaret's firm tone that brooked no argument, the sisters dropped their resistance and gratefully accepted the offered gifts. It was well past the luncheon hour when Margaret was escorted by Bessie back up the road where there were reputable cab hires. Margaret quickly bid farewell to her friend, leaving her the yellow roses as a remembrance of their time together and a promise that she would return the next day with a plan of action for the plots.

On her return to the Harley Street mansion, Margaret was hoping to slip quietly to her room and change before her afternoon tea appointment with the Thorntons. But, no such luck as she heard talking by the open door of the front meeting area near the front entrance. She lingered by the door, wondering if she could quietly pass through without being noticed. But her father, unfortunately blessed with sharp ears, heard her come in and called out, "Is that you Margaret? Come in, child. Lord Thornton is here to escort you and Father Bell to the Thornton manor. Are Fred and Edith with you?"

Margaret with little choice walked into the room, and saw that Lord Thornton was indeed there looking quite imposing, as usual, along with her mother, aunt and grandfather, all of whom looked very surprised at her rather wild appearance.

Before she could speak, her aunt asked in alarm, "What happened to you, child? Your hair is askewed. Your dress is smudged and filthy. Your slippers must be ruined judging by the mud caked at the helm of your dress."

"I am sorry aunt. I took a wrong turn and became hopelessly lost. I had to hire a cab to return here." Margaret apologized.

"A cab hire! Why did you not take our carriage back? And where are Edith and Fred?" Her mother asked her in growing concern.

"I don't know, Mama. I am sure they are fine. I lost them in Market Square when I was finishing up my purchases."

"Lost them? How? And where are your purchases, Margaret? Did you leave them in the hallway, dear?"

"I am not quite sure how I lost Edith and Fred, I just did." Margaret dissembled. "And Mama, I'm sorry, but I do not have the purchases you asked for. I will buy you and Papa some biscuits and grandfather some Milton tea tomorrow."

"What happened to your purchases?"... "Gave them away? Why? To Whom? and Where?"

"To my new friends, in the Princeton district."

"The Princeton District? What would you be doing in the factory districts?"

"I am sorry. I got lost, but I am glad for it. I made new friends." Margaret replied meekly with a hint of hope in her voice and as much confidence as she could muster against the onslaught of questioning. To prevent further inquiries, she spoke hurriedly in halting and apologetic tones, "I believe I am running late, if you will all excuse me, I would like to get ready for the afternoon tea appointment that grandfather and I have with the Thorntons. Lord Thornton, please forgive the delay as I get ready." With that, she quickly made her exit as gracefully as she could and retired to her room to wash up, change and prepare for her afternoon visit.

On the carriage ride over to the Thorntons, sitting next to her grandfather and across from John Thornton, Margaret began to feel apprehensive as she clasped her gloved hands on her lap to calm her fraying nerves. Her grandfather was clearly not happy with her and had been ignoring her the whole carriage ride over. She started making small talk with Lord Thornton to pass the time but was only getting monosyllabic and curt replies. She had almost exhausted her repertoire of polite conversation topics when, much to her relief, the carriage pulled into the family entrance of the Thornton Manor. Her grandfather quickly disembarked from the carriage, followed by Lord Thornton. When Margaret disembarked, it was Lord Thornton who raised his arm to help her. Her grandfather already proceeded into the manor without waiting for her or even a backward glance. Margaret gave an apologetic smile to Lord Thornton, and gingerly accepted the proffered arm. Lord Thornton ordered the attendants to bring the party's dress trunks into the music room where Fanny was waiting for Margaret. Then Lord Thornton escorted Margaret to the music room, promptly excusing himself shortly thereafter to attend to Lord Bell, who had chosen to go to the conservatory to speak with Queen Hannah.

The afternoon passed pleasantly, as Margaret 'made a more than languid exertion to be agreeable' to her hostess and racked her brain to talk to Fanny about subjects that might interest the Lady Thornton.

"I suppose you are very musical," said Fanny, "as you have such a great voice."

"I am fond of hearing and singing good music; I don't play as well as Edith, though. She is the pianist in the family."

"I am sure you are just being modest. But if you like to listen, we have some good concerts here. Too crowded though, they let anybody in. Perhaps you can go sometime?"

"Perhaps. Thank you. You like to read? I see you have a book in your hand?"

"Oh yes, the Tales of the Alhambra. 'London and the Alhambra are the two places I long to see.' You lived in London, of course?"

"Yes, for my studies and my mother's family is from there. They own a clothing line, Beresford Couture. You might have heard?"

"Of course, they dress all the best and finest in society. How very fortuitous for you to be so connected."

"No, my lady, it is you who are fortuitous today as I brought with me the best of the Beresford collection!" Margaret exclaimed as she started opening the trunks with great flourish showing Fanny a glittering array of colorful new outfits that truly impressed and delighted the fashion-conscious Fanny. Margaret soon found out that she and Fanny were almost the same size and height except that Fanny was a little more svelte and slender whereas Margaret was healthily built, lithe and more amply endowed. Margaret downplayed the difference as she complimented her new friend's athletic build. Fanny prone to easy friendships quickly warmed up to Margaret as they bonded over the clothes. Fanny did indeed fit into the clothes with little alteration. Margaret, happy to have made a new friend, felt truly generous towards Fanny. "Lady Thornton was the second friend I made today," Margaret reflected with a beaming smile. Seeing how much pleasure Fanny derived from the clothes, Margaret ended up giving Fanny almost all of the dresses she brought along.

"Really, Margaret? I can keep all this? You have not worn it at all, are you certain?"

"Of course! My Beresford cousins keep sending me and Edith the new lines. I could never wear all of this as we live quite simply in Helstone. You would get more use of it here with all the functions and balls you must have to go to all the time. Besides, drab, boring outfits suit me well," Margaret said in a teasing way, gesturing at the very plain but high quality brown outfit she wore for her afternoon call to Fanny. Fanny got her joke and laughed with her. As they laughed and giggled, Lord Bell and Lord Thornton walked in.

"Ah. The sound of laughter, how it gladdens the heart. Are you Ladies almost done here? My regrets to cut the meeting short, Margaret and I have other errands to run before the end of the market day. Does the London fashion suit you, Lady Fanny?" Lord Bell asked in a friendly and kindly tone.

"Yes, Lord Bell. It suits me very well. Thank you." Fanny turned to her older brother with a slight smile. "John, please get the attendants to remove these outfits to my apartment." At John's look of surprise and questioning frown, she added, "Margaret has been kind enough to give me some outfits."

"Some outfits? It looks like you have taken them all," John said, clearly unhappy at his sister's selfishness and poor manners. He cleared his throat and added authoritatively, "I would not permit you to take advantage of our guests in this way, Fanny."

"Don't be ridiculous, John. Margaret freely gives these to me as a token of our friendship."

"Fanny, it will do you good to not be so obliged by others so much. You will not take advantage of Ms. Hale in such a way and you will oblige me by "politely refusing the offer" if she truly made it freely, which I doubt very much," John said in a commanding tone.

Feeling uncomfortable at being the source of the altercation between the siblings, Margaret interrupted gently, "It is I who would be so obliged if Lady Thornton would keep the dresses. It will give me more space to move about in my bedroom at Harley Street without constantly tripping on these trunks. Please, sir, your sister obliges me and does me a service by accepting these gifts. Please let her accept them and let us not speak anymore about it." Margaret said with her most womanly smile, the one that showed her dimples and made her eyes sparkle.

John could not help but smile back at her as he replied, "If it is your wish then Ms. Hale, I brook no objection."

"It truly is and I will accept no objections."

Glad to see the matter ended, Lord Bell announced, "Well, then that is all settled. It is getting late, my dear, we must be going. We need to hurry so we can stop by Market Square to make some purchases."

Margaret felt the weight of her grandfather's piercing stare and understood his meaning, suddenly remorseful, she made her farewells as cheerful as she could and followed her grandfather quietly and timidly. Lord Thornton walked out with them and helped Margaret into the carriage once more.

Margaret sat across from her grandfather and looked Lord Bell straight in the eye as she said, "I'm sorry if I disappointed you with my behavior this morning, but please believe me when I say that I was compelled to come there and help where I could."

"Compelled! Margaret do you know what could have happened to you? You are lucky that all you got was some smudges and mud on your dress. Heaven forbid if something untowards should happen to you!" Lord Bell worriedly exclaimed.

Before Margaret could interrupt, Adam Bell continued, "my dear, I know you have good intentions and that your heart is in the right place. But, please for the sake of your family, think of your safety and do not walk about without an escort—especially not in the factory areas. I shudder to think what could have happened to you. You could have been stabbed or killed! Promise me that you will never go back there again."

"Grandfather, I am very sorry. I must return there to help. I already promised Bessie, my new friend there that I shall return tomorrow. Hopefully, I can help cure the ailing soil of their garden plots."

"What! After all we talked about, after you promised that you would do nothing to reveal yourself, you would risk yourself for the sake of factory workers?" Adam Bell's voice had risen, booming deafeningly in the confined space.

"Grandfather, please. Stop using such tones. These are men and women like us." Margaret could not meet his burning gaze, and so stared fixedly at her hands. "Granted that they have been made more wild by circumstance but they are our fellows. They are starving, Grandfather, if I don't do anything to help, they will be driven mad with hunger. Their pay is barely enough to support their family. They need the produce from their gardens to make ends meet." She could feel her eyes welling with tears, but willed them back. "Please, Grandfather, understand. The soil in their garden plots has been poisoned by magical means. As people, trusted with abilities, it is our moral duty to help. Grandfather, please, I beg you, do not forbid me to help! I promise you that I will not reveal myself. I believe I can heal the soil using the scientific method. Please trust me, Grandfather, please." Margaret pleaded.

"Margaret, what will I do with you, child?" Lord Bell exhaled with frustration. Margaret had always had a big heart and had always been willing to empty herself for the good of others. After some introspection, Lord Bell calmed down, gave a resigned sigh and continued in a curious tone, "Magic, you say? That is very disturbing indeed. Why would a mage waste magic to be so cruel to the poor in Princeton district?"

The academic in him was intrigued by Margaret's suggested solution, "counter magic with science?" Lord Bell remarked, proud of his granddaughter's keen mind and bold spirit. "Well, far be it for me to get in the way of science. I would like to see you try and succeed, my dear," Lord Bell said softly and with a large endorsing smile. Margaret threw her arms around her grandfather, pleased that he was no longer upset with her. "Mind now, promise me you will never go there alone, by yourself. Bring Fred or myself and take the carriage, promise me."

"Of course, I promise. Thank you," Margaret replied as she squeezed her grandfather's arm reassuringly.

Adam Bell, frowning with concern still for his precious pearl, kissed her forehead lightly. Margaret gave him a most confident smile. "I can do this, grandfather, you'll see. Everything will be well."

That was the day everything changed for Margaret. No matter how gloomy or sad or awful Milton got, it was no longer a stranger to her. She had found a human interest. Well, two in fact, and that pleased Margaret. She could not wait to tell Edith.

A/N: All the words I copied straight from the book are marked with '..'. There are just some words that could only be best expressed by Mrs. Gaskell herself, brilliant writer that she was. Sorry for the formatting mess ups, I had to cut and paste this from my tablet as I have no access to my computer at this time. I had to get this out. I think it is the best chapter yet. All thanks to onceandfuturefangirl.

Writing is a lonely occupation. Most often you shut yourself out to the world in order to bring ideas and inspirations to words. I am very new to creative writing, but I have been a "dreamer of stories" my whole life. I've never had the courage to "put pen into paper" so to speak on any of the stories percolating in my head. I admire every writer here for their courage to write and I am most especially grateful to onceandfuturefangirl for helping me become a better writer. It is a source of true joy to find a fellow writer to collaborate with. This chapter is definitely much improved due to her influence. Thank you so much onceandfuturefangirl. I am much obliged to you (as Gaskellites would say :)). Thank you readers for the reviews too. I definitely use them to make the chapters and plot even better.