"Dixon, whatever has Martha been doing?"
Mrs. Hale was feeling well enough this day to be out of bed, but she was in a querulous mood, as Dixon found to her dismay. It seemed that nothing could be done correctly this morning: Dixon fetched her the wrong cap, the tea had not steeped long enough, she was too close to the fire, she was too cold after moving away from it. Nothing was to Mrs. Hale's satisfaction, and Dixon was eager to put her dear mistress in a better temper. She had never felt herself under so much scrutiny and never had Mrs. Hale been so difficult to please.
Margaret rarely saw Dixon so discomfited, and she was a little ashamed at how much she enjoyed it. As long as her mother didn't turn her contrary humor on Margaret, she would enjoy the situation at hand.
"What is the trouble, Mama?"
"Well, I assume Dixon sends that girl to the market for fresh fruit, but I can't abide whatever is on this plate. What is it, Margaret? I can't rightly tell."
Margaret bit her lip in sympathy and amusement over Dixon's plight. The beleaguered woman looked completely bewildered. "I believe they are apples, Mama."
"Well, you would not know it to taste them, that's certain. How could you let such food escape your notice, Dixon?"
Dixon stumbled over an excuse, but it was spoken rather low, and they could not hear it for the mumbling. Such behavior from Dixon was so rare that Margaret's sympathy finally overcame her humor and she interposed in order to shield Dixon from further abuse.
"Mama, perhaps I may go to the market and find something else to tempt you. I'm sure that neither Martha nor Dixon are to blame for what is available. Perhaps there was not much variety."
Her mother's sulky purse of the lips was all the reply she received, but it was not a denial of Margaret's proposal, so Margaret, after a compassionate glance to Dixon, stood up and went to retrieve her coat. Soon Margaret was out among the crowds of the food stalls, a basket on one arm, hoping to find something that would please her mother. To be sure, Mrs. Hale's tastes had always been refined, but before now she had never been fussy about what was offered her. Margaret supposed it was an effect of the illness. Though she could do little to change her mother's taste, she could try to alleviate the foul temper being exhibited by finding something that would satisfy her. For Dixon's sake, she hoped her mother's mood would change soon.
As she made her purchases and threaded her way among the stalls, a tall figure caught the corner of her eye and she was soon distracted from her task. It was hard to miss Mr. Thornton at any time – he cut such an impressive figure – but she was surprised to find him in the market in the middle of the day. Unconsciously as her eyes followed him, her feet did, as well. He was soon stopped by an acquaintance and she hung back, trying to hide the impression of loitering to passersby. Her basket was not full, but it was heavy enough and as time passed, it became more of a burden, and she wondered how long she would have to wait.
As soon as she thought this, she shook herself. Why was she following and waiting for Mr. Thornton? What a ridiculous thing to do! It was not as though he had seen her or desired her company, so there was no reason to linger as she did. She laughed to herself over her foolishness and quickly turned away.
Unfortunately, she was so preoccupied with her thoughts that she did not note the hump in the uneven road by her feet. Down went the basket and down Margaret came with it! More embarrassed than injured, she set herself upright and began to gather up her scattered goods, denying any helpful hands and assuring her well-being to a few concerned neighbors. All was done with a red face. She did not dare lift it for the world to see until she could feel it cool.
"May I be of assistance to you, Miss Hale?" His deep voice penetrated her cloud of mortification and she finally allowed herself to look up. Concern and amusement were mingled in his face as he bent over her with outstretched hand.
"Thank you, Mr. Thornton, but I am all right. It was just a clumsy oversight of mine. I was not minding my way," she said, getting herself to her feet. His proffered hand had not been taken, and he stood up straight again as she patted any dust off her skirt. "I do not usually trip or fall, but when it happens, it is sure to create a spectacle."
He smiled. "I did not witness the spectacle itself; I only heard the commotion. I am sorry to have missed the sight. It is rare indeed to find you so out of sorts; I would have enjoyed having a chance to see it."
Was he teasing her? "Well, you may be glad of the opportunity to see me at least in my current state, for I am not much less out of sorts than I was on the ground." She felt at her hair to see if any pins were knocked loose. She could only hope she did not look too disheveled, but she could not tell from Mr. Thornton's look what her appearance must be. He had the shadow of a smile on his lips and his eyes did not stray from her. But if that meant she looked well or tumbled was not clear.
"I thank you for your concern, Mr. Thornton, but I believe I am recovered from my accident." She did not know if she spoke to thank or dismiss him, but he did not acknowledge her statement directly. Instead, he bent down to retrieve her basket. She reached out a hand to take it, but he did not relinquish it to her.
"I feel it my duty to see you safely home, Miss Hale," he said with solemnity. He seemed most serious until she gave him an exasperated look in response, which prompted his shadow-smile to give way to a real one, confirming that he was daring to tease her. He rarely showed this full smile, and having always liked it when he did, she returned it with her own, silently allowing his friendly mockery. Before the moment had passed, he switched the basket to his left hand and held an arm out to her. "It would be my pleasure to accompany you, Miss Hale."
Without thought, she took his arm and they made their way away from the crowd. She was not in a humor to deny anyone the service of carrying the basket, cumbersome as it was, and she hoped and rather expected to enjoy the company, if the previous few minutes were any indication of the turn in their acquaintance.
"I am surprised to see you in this area of the town, Mr. Thornton. No doubt you have other business to attend to."
"No, my business actually brought me to this district. My mother had an errand to run, in fact, and as I am so set at liberty," she detected a note of bitterness in that word, "I offered to take care of it for her."
"At liberty?"
"Yes, you are aware, I'm sure, that the hands have been gracious enough to turn out, leaving me free to be my mother's messenger." He took little trouble to conceal his displeasure at such events.
"Oh." Now she understood what took him away from the mill in the middle of the day. Now she was sorry to have ever mentioned his presence, because as quickly as a friendly repartee was begun, it had ended and she regretted a missed opportunity to converse with him without any awkwardness.
After a short pause, he asked, "But what brings you here, Miss Hale? Are you also bound to your mother to run errands? Because I imagine she already has an eager friend who is ever ready to attend to her needs."
Margaret laughed, relieved and grateful that he would return to a light tone and amused by his reference to Dixon. "She does have that friend, indeed, but today she has been rather hard on poor Dixon. I came here to buy some things in order to keep the peace. Mama was complaining about some fruit, so I hope to fix the problem and so relieve Dixon from some of Mama's demands."
"And how does your mother do?" he asked, his voice suddenly quiet and solicitous.
She looked up to find his deep gaze upon her, his concern apparent in the solemnity of his mouth. She did not quite know whether to confess to him what she had not revealed to her own father, but she read in his face that he might already be aware of the trouble. She appreciated his concern and willingness to ask her directly about the situation. And heaven knew it would be a relief to her to speak to someone about the difficulties, even him.
Still, it was an effort to get out the words, "She is not well." He said nothing, but his manner encouraged her to elaborate. Still uneasily, she put forth the vital confession. "Dr. Donaldson has told us to prepare for the worst." She was unable to mask the pain in her voice. How could she lose her mother? How would she bear it? It wasn't fair. But no matter what she was willing to tell Mr. Thornton, she would not publicly admit to those resentments.
She could feel that he understood her in his words. "I am very sorry to hear it, Miss Hale. I confess I had some idea that she was very ill, but I was hoping it would not be so serious."
"I thank you," she said softly. "I do not know how long we may still have with her, although it may be quite some time yet. I do not know." She hated how cold her words sounded, but as much as she had wanted to relieve the burden of telling it, she found herself unable to express all her feelings to Mr. Thornton. If only she had Edith near! If only she felt that her father could bear such news. "Mr. Thornton," she halted their walk to turn to him. "I feel ashamed to admit this, but my father does not know the extent of my mother's illness, and I must ask you to not mention it to him. He could not bear such knowledge just now."
"You may rely on me, Miss Hale, I give you my word. If there is anything I may do to help, please do not hesitate to call on me or my mother. I am more than happy to be of service to your family." He bent closer to her, his whole manner bespeaking his sincerity; she was grateful for such sympathy and consideration and began to walk again.
"Thank you, Mr. Thornton. At present we are able to shift for ourselves. Mama is feeling better today; otherwise she would not be capable of harassing poor Dixon so."
"You will let me know if there is any change or if I can assist you?" he pressed.
She turned to him, ready to assure him that he needn't take so much trouble and worry on their account, but the look in his eye stopped her before she began. He was very much in earnest, and she knew she was in no position to deny a friend to her family. They had precious few of those in Milton; she could not refuse the genuine overtures he made.
"Yes, of course, Mr. Thornton."
He gave her a gentle smile of gratitude and they continued to her door. Once again she was ready to take the basket from him, but he did not seem inclined to give it away. "I wonder, Miss Hale, if I could perhaps visit your mother for a moment. To at least spare Dixon's grief for another minute or two."
"I'm sure she would be happy to receive you. Who knows what dire straits Dixon is in?" Surprised and gratified by this attention to her mother, she led him into the house, where she was finally able to relieve him of his load by sending him to the drawing room as she moved to the kitchen with the basket.
As she came up the stairs a few minutes later with a plate of fruit, she heard a soft laugh come from the drawing room. She had not expected her mother to be overly joyful at Mr. Thornton's company, so to hear her laughter was a relief on two accounts: his comfort and her mother's health. She entered to find them both smiling.
"Margaret," her mother greeted her, "Mr. Thornton has been telling me of the possibility of a dinner party at his home in the coming month."
He turned to Margaret, saying, "Mr. Horsfall, a business acquaintance of mine, will be in Milton, and there are many people he wants to see. I am sure that he will be happy to meet your family. I was telling Mrs. Hale that she would be sure to dazzle a man expecting only stern northern stock such as I."
Mrs. Hale tittered once more at this remark and responded, "For shame, Mr. Thornton. You should not encourage an aging woman's vanity." Margaret stood in amazement at the scene before her. To see her mother enjoying this man's presence was nothing short of miraculous. As for Mr. Thornton, she was uncertain if she had ever seen him smile as much as he had today. What was happening to the world?
Before she could say anything, Mr. Thornton stood. "I should take my leave, madam, I only had a few minutes to spare. I bid you good day. Good day, Miss Hale."
As he passed Margaret, she saw her mother make a motion for her to see him out, so she followed him down the stairs. "Thank you, Mr. Thornton, for whatever it was you said to make Mama so agreeable. However did you do it?"
There was a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he responded, "I have been informed that ladies like to think they are nice to look at. I merely took advantage of that knowledge."
She was once more surprised into silence as she recognized her own advice repeated back to her. She had not imagined that he would remember what she had said that night, but somehow he had.
His manner changed suddenly as he looked away from her and lost that twinkle in his eye. He seemed to stumble over his words as he said, "I hope, Miss Hale, that when we have our dinner party, you are able to attend."
"I shall be happy to, Mr. Thornton," she said easily, wondering what could have prompted his change in manner. He nodded at her answer, gave a brief smile, and bidding farewell, walked hurriedly out the door.
As he walked away from the Hale home, he cursed his sudden anxiety. He had been doing so well and then her proximity made him almost forget himself and his resolve to be easy and friendly. It was difficult for him to keep up such behavior; he had not been in the practice of speaking to friends for a long time, after all. He simply hadn't the time. But he knew that if he was ever going to have a fighting hope to win Margaret, he would have to get in such a habit. He was relatively pleased with his efforts this day, but there was that stumble at the end, so he made his exit as quickly as possible before he gave himself completely away.
He had thought over the previous days of how to engage Margaret's attention and friendship, but he came to the conclusion that he would not be able to put his new behavior into action until the next time he was in her home. Even then, a lesson with Mr. Hale did not ensure even a glimpse of Margaret, and any meeting between them would be absurdly short. It would not give him much time to do or say anything beyond the usual formalities. A chance encounter had not ever crossed his mind, so he had despaired of how he could ever change their association before his impatience ran him mad.
But then today he had heard some exclamations in the market and saw a crowd of people surround a young lady who had taken a fall, and they parted to reveal her! She was before him, clearly uninjured but desperately trying to put herself and her basket back together, and he could not believe his good luck. Here was his chance; he had to take it. He only hoped that when he opened his mouth, he would not sound an utter fool.
And by some miracle, she had responded! He steeled up his courage and offered her his arm, and she had taken it! He was under the impression that she gave little thought to the gesture, but it meant the world to him. To be allowed in her company, in her good graces, was something to smile over, but now he was touching her for the first time. He could feel the pressure of her arm against his and he rejoiced inwardly. She had accepted this much, and it so overwhelmed him that he could not stay angry very long when she inadvertently reminded him of the strike and why he was available to be in the neighborhood at all. He was quick to turn the conversation to her.
Unfortunately, this did little to lighten the mood as she mentioned her mother. His fear was confirmed as she informed him of Mrs. Hale's condition, and he offered his sympathy as best he could. In visiting Mrs. Hale, he did wish to recommend himself to Margaret, but he also knew the pain of losing a parent, and wanted to be of some real use to her family. He respected and admired Mr. Hale, and it was the least he could do to offer his services and show Mrs. Hale some attention.
He could see he surprised Margaret by his request to see her mother, but it was nothing to the shock on Mrs. Hale's face when he entered the drawing room and pulled a chair next to her. He wasn't fully aware of everything he said, but he tried to work in an innocent compliment and it seemed to work in making some headway in Mrs. Hale's quarrelsome mood. Perhaps he was better at being in friendly company than he gave himself credit for.
But that farewell to Margaret tainted his confidence. He had become nervous after referring to their conversation, afraid she would too quickly make the connection to how he had acted around her today and cast him out in disgust. He made a hasty exit, hoping that she would not think too badly of his awkward words. He hoped for her generosity. And was it so impossible to hope for? After all, he grinned to himself, she had taken his arm today.