Monday morning dawned bright and early. As was his habit, John had awoken hours earlier. However, he was quite content to lie there and enjoy the pure bliss of married life. His arm was wrapped around his new bride as her beautiful head rested on his shoulder, body pressed against his side and one arm draped across his chest. With his free hand he twirled the ends of her long chestnut tresses which were splayed across them both.

As the sun's rays filtered in through the curtains and danced across her face, Margaret began to stir. John lifted his hand and gently slid his fingers across the velvety smooth skin of Margaret's face, tucking the loose strands of her hair behind her ear.

"Good morning, Mrs. Thornton," he said while a smile spread across his face.

"Mmmm," she replied with a grin as she blinked her eyes open. "Every time I hear that I nearly jump out of skin thinking your mother is standing somewhere behind me."

John, tightened his grip on her. He leaned over, nipped her ear and whispered in it, "I sure hope my mother isn't here right now."

Margaret giggled, not only from his words but from the feel of his lips on her skin. He was lavishing great attention on that ticklish spot behind her ear.

"John," she protested weakly, "we need to get ready to go. We are leaving soon."

"The carriage won't be here for two more hours," he replied as he slid his hand into her hair and trailed light kisses down her neck, "and I intend to make the most of every minute."

Margaret sighed contentedly. John rolled over on top of her, trailing kisses even lower. She melted into the mattress and slid her hands up his arms and into his hair.

….

Two hours later the coachman was loading their belongings into the Thornton family carriage while Margaret and John said goodbye to their quaint little honeymoon cottage and the little gray mare they had grown fond of on their many rides around the countryside. The newlywed couple settled themselves into the carriage and managed to occupy themselves quite pleasantly for the half hour ride back to Milton.

...oOo...

Hannah Thornton watched from the drawing room window as her son stepped down from the carriage. Tears came to her eyes when she noticed how positively elated he was. She had not realized how lonely he had been all these years. Truly glad was she that he had finally found someone he loved to spend the rest of his life with.

John turned and handed down his wife. As soon as her feet hit the ground he wrapped an arm around her and drew her to his side. His mother watched with a disapproving eye as he leaned down and whispered something in her ear. Margaret looked lovingly up at him as a blush crept up her face. The couple turned and made their way toward the stairs which led to the front door.

Margaret Hale was certainly not Hannah Thornton's first choice of a wife for her son. Nor her second or third for that matter, but from the moment John first met the renegade clergyman's daughter no one else would do for him. He was ruined.

Mrs. Thornton ('the elder' now, she had to remind herself) still did not understand why Miss Hale had refused her son's first proposal but ever since the brazen southern upstart had finally accepted him she had proven to be everything that was honorable and loyal and seemed just as devoted to John as he was to her.

She heard the front door open with a thud and the newlyweds laughing as John (Hannah rolled her eyes) must have been carrying his bride across the threshold. The door then shut with a slam, likely kicked closed by John's foot.

She heard Margaret protest in semi hushed tones, "John! Put me down before your mother sees us!"

"I don't care if all of Milton sees us. Let it be known far and wide: The Mast of Marlborough Mills has returned with his beautiful new bride!" was John's roguish reply, which Hannah noticed was immediately followed by silence ... for far too long.

A smile slowly spread across Hannah Thornton's face. This was how it should be. Her strong, dedicated, loyal son deserved this happiness.

The lot of the matriarch of the Thornton family was now to step aside and allow her daughter in law to take the reins. A somewhat bitter pill to swallow for the woman who had expertly run her son's household for the last ten years. Her duties and importance would diminish. However, she still had Fanny and the thought of some future grandchildren (maybe not too far off with the way her son and his new bride were carrying on) gave her hope that her usefulness was not entirely obsolete.

This thought reminded her of Margaret's mother. A daughter would surely want her own mother around when having a child and not so much her mother in law. But alas, this was not to be for Margaret and once again the matriarch felt sorrow for the girl's mother who would never hold her own grandchildren.

She had made the trip to Crampton after church the day before to visit the invalid whom she had gotten to know over the past few weeks as they planned the wedding. She replayed the visit in her mind:

...

She was met at the door by the master of the house himself.

"Ah! Good morning Mrs. Thornton," he greeted her.

"And to you Mr. Hale," she replied.

"Come in, come in," he said, "How are you today?"

"Very well," she answered, stepping into the small house. "I was hoping to see Mrs. Hale. Is she well?"

"I regret to say that she is doing rather poorly today."

Hannah immediately moved toward the door reaching for the handle. "Should I send the coachman for Margaret and John?"

"Oh, no, no, no," he adamantly replied, "Maria assures me it is merely a passing ailment. In fact your visit will help to lift her spirits, I am sure. Let me take you up to her. She is in her room."

Mrs. Thornton hesitated but allowed her hand to drop from the door knob. She knew Mr. Hale was in denial as to the real state of his wife's health, but it was not her place to say anything.

When she entered the room the invalid's son was sitting with her. Upon seeing Mrs. Thornton he rose, bowed to her in greeting and offered her his seat.

"We'll leave you two ladies alone," he said and departed with his father, shutting the door behind them.

There lay Mrs. Hale—a mother like herself-a much younger woman than she was,-on the bed from which there was no sign of hope that she might ever rise again. When Mrs. Thornton, strong and prosperous with life, came in, Mrs. Hale lay still, although from the look on her face she was evidently conscious of who it was. But she did not even open her eyes for a minute or two. The heavy moisture of tears stood on the eye-lashes before she looked up, then with her hand groping feebly over the bed-clothes, for the touch of Mrs. Thornton's large firm fingers, she said, scarcely above her breath-Mrs. Thornton had to lean in from her erectness to listen,-

"Margaret-you have a daughter-my sister is in Italy. My child will be without a mother;-in a strange place,-if I die—will you be a mother to her in place of me as you are now her mother in law?"

And her filmy wandering eyes fixed themselves with an intensity of wistfulness on Mrs. Thornton's face for a minute, there was no change in its rigidness; it was stern and unmoved;-nay, but that the eyes of the sick woman were growing dim with the slow-gathering tears, she might have seen a dark cloud cross the cold features. And it was no thought of her son, or of her living daughter Fanny, that stirred her heart at last; but a sudden remembrance, suggested by something in the arrangement of the room,-of a little daughter-dead in infancy-long years ago (who would have been about the same age as Margaret)-that, like a sudden sunbeam, melted the icy crust, behind which there was a real tender woman.

"You wish me to be a mother to Margaret," said Mrs. Thornton, in her measured voice, that would not soften with her heart, but came out distinct and clear.

Mrs. Hale, her eyes still fixed on Mrs. Thornton's face, pressed the hand that lay below hers on the coverlet. She could not speak.

Mrs. Thornton replied, "I will be a true friend. Not a tender friend. That I cannot be. It is not my nature to show affection even where I feel it, nor do I volunteer advice in general. Still, at your request,-if it will be any comfort to you, I will promise you." Then came a pause. Mrs. Thornton was too conscientious to promise what she did not mean to perform.

"I promise," said she, with grave severity; which, after all, inspired the dying woman with faith as in something more stable than life itself,-flickering, flitting, wavering life! "I promise that in any difficulty in which Margaret comes to me for help, I will help her with every power I have, as if she were my own daughter, as she now is. I also promise that if ever I see her doing what I think is wrong"-

"But Margaret never does wrong-not wilfully wrong," pleaded Mrs. Hale.

Mrs. Thornton went on as before; as if she had not heard: "If ever I see her doing what I believe to be wrong I will tell her of it, faithfully and plainly, as I should wish my own daughter to be told. I also promise to love her as my son's wife and as my own daughter as she is now quickly becoming very dear to me."

There was a long pause. Mrs. Hale felt that this promise was much and wished to thank Mrs. Thornton but she was weak, dizzy, and tired. However, she rallied herself and began to speak: "I thank you. I pray God to bless you. I shall never see you again in this world. But my last words are, I thank you for your promise of love and kindness to my child."

Mrs. Thornton pressed Mrs. Hale's soft languid hand; and rose up and went her way out of the house.

Mrs. Thornton prayed the rest of that day for Mrs. Hale to rally at least long enough for her daughter to return. Margaret would surely be devastated if her mother passed while she was away.

That evening Hannah sent word to Crampton asking after Mrs. Hale. Thankfully, the son answered the missive. She trusted that he knew what was at stake and would give her an honest answer. He told her that the doctor had visited and that his mother had improved somewhat and that the real danger was not quite so imminent.

…..

Many long minutes later Mrs. Thornton finally heard footsteps ascending the stairs.

When the couple entered the drawing room John's face was all smiles as was Margaret's, except her's was accompanied by red cheeks and bee stung lips.

"Welcome home!" Hannah proclaimed, as she approached them. John leaned down to kiss his mother's cheek. She and Margaret clasped arms and kissed cheeks as well.

She awkwardly invited them to sit on the couch as it was no longer her position to do so but neither of them seemed to notice.

"How was your wedding trip?" she inquired.

"It was quite lovely," replied Margaret shyly, with a glowing smile as she sat and folded her hands neatly in her lap.

"Very relaxing," added John, "I don't think I have ever been away from work for so long." John sat back comfortably next to his wife, crossing his legs and spreading both arms across the back of the couch.

"Well," replied Margaret, "We will have to figure out some way to get you away from the mill more often. In the mean time it will be my duty to make sure you relax every evening." She patted his leg and nodded her head.

John blinked and his smile broadened as Margaret turned to look at him not realizing the implication of what she had said until her gaze met his. Her eyes widened and she bit her lower lip. Her cheeks turned red once again in her embarrassment.

Mrs. Thornton, the elder, caught Margaret's blunder. In an effort to prevent her daughter in law from digging herself deeper with apologies or excuses she inquired, "Why don't we head to the dining room for breakfast?"

Margaret jumped at the change in subject and replied with a hearty, "Yes, please! We are famished."

John stood up and helped his wife to her feet. As they walked to the dining room he began to ask his mother about the mill and the events of the weekend that they had missed.

All was well with the mill, his mother reported. She went on to tell them about her visit to Mrs. Hale the day before. She was able to reassure Margaret that her mother was as well as could be expected.

"Thank you," Margaret said, "That was very kind of you." Looking at her husband she added, "We are heading over there shortly."

"Yes, after breakfast," replied John, "Margaret will remain there while I catch up at the mill. I will return to Crampton to fetch her in the evening."

...oOo...

As Margaret lifted her hand to knock on her parent's front door she smiled at John and said, "It feels strange to have to knock on this door now."

"Indeed," replied he with a smirk. Then bending down to whisper in her ear he said, "Your home is with me now."

Margaret leaned back to rest her head on his shoulder. After a moment she righted herself and rapped on the door.

It was Fred who answered, purposely circumventing Dixon, who would no doubt have telegraphed their mother's situation as being most dire, and their father, who would likely have told his daughter that nothing was wrong at all. Nether opinion being accurate, he wished to give Margaret and John the true measure of things.

"Fred!" she exclaimed upon seeing him. Margaret and her husband stepped in and she embraced her brother fondly. "Mother! is she alive?" she inquired suddenly feeling quite worried, as if she had just then realized that the world had continued on in her absence.

"Yes, she is alive, dear sister!" he replied, smiling at her, "She is as ill as she can be; but alive! She is alive!"

"Thank God!" praised Margaret and John.

The trio immediately went up to their mother (for she was John's mother now too). Mrs. Hale was quite languid but brightened upon seeing her daughter and son in law. Reaching for her daughter's hand which was quickly grasped she said, "Margaret, you are returned! How was your trip?"

"Before you go on," John interrupted, "I must be getting back to the mill. I am quite pleased to see you doing so well Mrs. Hale."

"John, dear," she grasped his hand as well and implored him, a little breathlessly from her weakness, "please call me Mama like Margaret does."

"Then I will bid you good day, Mama." He leaned over the bed to place a kiss on her cheek. He then bent down and kissed Margaret's temple and reminded her he would return for her that evening. He shook hands with his brother in law and father in law then retreated from the room to see himself out.

Returning her attention to her mother, Margaret gaily replied, "Our trip was quite pleasant, Mother. I did not know such a bucolic scene could be found so close to Milton."

As it seemed to brighten the elder lady's spirits Margaret told her all about their little honeymoon cottage, the walks and drives they took and the picnics they shared. After an hour or so of these tales and many reminiscences with Fred of lazy days spent in the Helstone countryside. Mrs. Hale drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

...

However, this state of tranquillity could not endure for many days, nor perhaps for many hours; so Dr. Donaldson assured Margaret when he visited the next day. After the kind doctor had gone away, she went to Frederick, who, during the visit, had been adjured to remain quietly concealed in Margaret's old room, just down the hall from their mother, which had now become the guest bedroom.

Before the night of that day, Dr. Donaldson's opinion was proved to be too well founded. Convulsions came on; and when they ceased, Mrs. Hale was unconscious. Her husband might lie by her shaking the bed with his sobs; her son's strong arms might lift her tenderly up into a comfortable position; her daughter's hands might bathe her face; and her son in law might offer up prayers but she knew them not. She would never recognise them again, till they met in Heaven.

Before the morning came all was over.