The husband became distant and despondent. The son had broken down and cried violently with youthful passionate sobs. The lady's maid stood stock still with tears rolling down her cheeks. The son in law hung his head and offered up prayers for the departed and for those who remained behind. The daughter got up and started to perform the necessary duties. Her eyes were continually blinded by tears, but she felt she had no time to give way to regular crying. Her father and brother depended upon her; while they were giving way to grief, she must be working, planning, considering.

Observing his wife with concern, John rose too and stepped to the nearby writing desk. He dashed off a quick note, roused the maid out of her mournful stupor and commissioned her with having it delivered expediently.

John kindly ushered father and son off to their respective rooms and into bed. Then he approached his wife. She was leaning over her mother's body, intent upon her labors.

"Margaret," he said tenderly, placing his hands on her shoulders.

When she did not respond he slid them down her arms to clasp her hands and arrest them from their labors. He crossed their joined hands around her and cradled her against him pressing his lips to her temple.

"Margaret," he implored, "you must rest."

"But I need to…," her voice cracked as she began to protest.

He cut her off. "How wan you look, Margaret!" said he in a low voice. "You are always thinking of everybody, and no one thinks of you. Come, lie on the sofa," he said as he walked her out of her mother's bed chamber, "there is nothing for you to do. I've sent word to my mother." He cringed as he felt her stiffen at the word. He knew what she was thinking: he still had his mother, stout and healthy and older than the frail woman before them. "She will come and help with all of the necessary preparations. You need to come lie down."

Margaret turned in his arms and collapsed against him, finally letting go of her grief. Not so passionate at first, she was more suffering now and cried a good deal. She no longer needed to be the rock for her family. She had the love of her husband and the regard of his family to support her. Her tears now flowed freely. John scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the drawing room. He sat holding her on the sofa as she cried herself to sleep.

….oOo….

About an hour later John heard a knock at the door. Sniffling and mumbling under her breath, Dixon went bustling down the hallway to answer it. John knew that it must be his mother, so he gently laid Margaret down and covered her feet with a shawl. He left the room and descended the stairs to greet his mother.

Dixon took the matron's coat and bonnet and left when Mr. Thornton appeared.

"Mother," he greeted her with a kiss on the cheek, "thank you for coming."

"John," she replied, "you know I am here for you and Margaret whenever you need me."

"I know," he gratefully replied.

"Fanny was roused by the arrival of the messenger," she informed him.

"Oh," John felt bad, "I am sorry to have woken her."

"No, not at all," his mother went on to explain, "She got up when she heard the news and insisted on having breakfast sent over. She is directing the kitchen staff in that endeavor as we speak."

Shock and disbelief crossed both of their faces at the thought of Fanny's selfless behavior.

"Be sure to thank Fanny profusely for us," John asserted.

"I will," his mother replied, "The coachman will bring the breakfast when it is ready. Shall I have him bring back a maid as well? He is waiting outside. Do you have any messages to be sent? Shall he fetch the doctor?"

"No maid," John said, heading toward a table for writing supplies, "I'll send him with a note for the Higgins' to have Mary come. She has been here throughout the illness and is familiar with the family and it's goings on," he gave his mother a knowing look, he was thinking of Fred of course, "I will send Higgins some instructions for the mill as well. He is quickly becoming a most valued employee."

"The Union rabble rouser?" asked his mother.

"Yes," replied John, "Margaret recommended him and I cannot thank her enough. He's the best worker I've ever had."

He dipped a pen in the ink and dashed off a quick note for Higgins. He folded it and handed it to his mother.

"Do have the coachman fetch Dr. Donaldson," John added, the Magistrate in him taking over, "We will need him to sign the death certificate."

"Anything else?" she asked as she stepped toward the door.

"Not right now," he replied thoughtfully, "I'll probably have more letters for the coachman to deliver when he returns."

Hannah gave instructions to the coachman and then proceeded to the kitchen to help manage the household in this time of grief.

John returned to Margaret who was still fast asleep on the drawing room sofa. He found writing implements in that room and sat down to compose a few letters where he could hold vigil over her. He decided to forgo writing to Aunt Shaw and the Lennoxes as Margaret would likely prefer to do that herself. He did write a brief note to Mr. Bell at his hotel, informing him of his friend's loss and imploring him to come help the man with his grief. He also composed notes for the pastor and the undertaker to begin the upcoming funeral and burial arrangements. He consulted his mother and they both agreed to offer the Hales a portion of the Thornton family burial plot on the hill above the church.

The doctor arrived shortly before ten and John felt compelled to wake Margaret for this visit.

He went to her and then sate on the ground by her side brushing the loose strands of hair from her face.

"Margaret," he said in a subdued tone, and kissed her forehead. "Margaret," he spoke again.

Her nose scrunched up adorably and her eyes blinked open. A smile began to form on her lips as she focused on the handsome face of her husband before her. Then she remembered and the smile faded as sadness overcame her features. She bolted upright.

"Slow down, love," John said placing his hands on her arms, "I have everything under control."

Launching herself into his arms she hugged him tight.

"Thank you, John," she said, the words muffled by his chest where she had pressed her face.

As the gravity of the previous night's events washed over her, she began to sob.

"It's alright, love," he told her while stroking her hair, which had come undone as she slept, and letting her cry, "I will take care of you. Let not your heart be troubled."

He told her of Dr. Donaldson's arrival and all that would be required of her to obtain the death certificate. She ran off to clean herself up before meeting with the doctor.

As the doctor was leaving Mary Higgins arrived. She offered Margaret her deepest condolences. She herself had just recently lost her sister and knew how it felt to lose a loved one. Margaret had been there for her and her father when Bessy had died and she was happy to return the favor. She immediately went to the kitchen to help Dixon and Mrs. Thornton with the household chores.

Mary made sure that the fire was bright and crackling. Mrs. Thornton assured her son and daughter in law that everything was ready for breakfast, and the tea-kettle was singing away. Margaret gave a last look round the room before going with John to summon Mr. Hale and Frederick. She wanted everything to look as cheerful as possible; and yet, when it did so, the contrast between it and her own thoughts forced her into sudden weeping. She turned into John's embrace and hid her face against his chest that no one but him might hear her cry.

John stroked her back as she cried and whispered loving words of encouragement to her.

Her husband's tenderness of manner touched her to the heart; and, more from a desire to show her gratitude for this than for any other reason, she roused herself up, and smiled in answer to his anxious look at her; and hand in hand they went to tell her father and brother that breakfast was ready.

Mr. Hale came-as if in a dream, or rather with the unconscious motion of a sleep-walker, whose eyes and mind perceive other things than what are present. Frederick came briskly in, with a forced cheerfulness. He shook hands with John then grasped Margaret's hand, looked into her eyes, and burst into tears. John had to try and think of little nothings to say all breakfast-time, in order to prevent the recurrence of his companions' thoughts too strongly to the last meal they had taken together, when there had been a continual strained listening for some sound or signal from the sick-room.

After breakfast, John resolved to speak to his father-in-law, about the funeral. Mr. Hale shook his head, and assented to all his son in law proposed. Johnquickly realized that the man was in no condition to make any real decisions. The elder gentleman never was a good one for settling thingsand now the poor gentleman looked as if he was lost. John was leaving the room when Mr. Hale motioned him back to his side.

"John," he said, "thank you so much for all that you are doing."

"Sir, it is my pleasure…,"

His father-in-law cut him off. "Ask Mr. Bell," said he in a hollow voice, "to help you. He was my groom's-man."

"I have already sent word to Mr. Bell. He will be here as soon as he can."

"Thank you, my dear boy," replied Mr. Hale, "You are such a blessing to us. I am eternally grateful that you and Margaret found each other. It is a comfort to know that something good has come of our removal to Milton."

"It is I who am grateful to you," replied John sincerely, "if you had not come here, I would never have met your wonderful daughter and her lovely family."

The two men embraced as father and son.

A short time later Mr. Bell arrived. After being greeted by Margaret and John, he cloistered himself with his old friend in the study to listen and comfort him as he could.

Margaret sat in the drawing room with her husband, free to grieve as need be. With tears streaming down her cheeks yet a smile on her face, she regaled him with many fond memories of her mother from Helstone as well as Milton. John envied the love and affection that had existed in Margaret's family and fervently prayed that their family too would share such joy. With Margaret by his side, he felt that it would be so.

John gladly took on the mantle of family manager for this somber occasion and efficiently dispatched all the necessary arrangements for the funeral. He was prepared to have the continual whirl of melancholy business devolve upon him to spare his wife the trouble.

….oOo….

All the next day they sate together-they four. Mr. Hale hardly ever spoke but when his children asked him questions, and forced him, as it were, into the present. Frederick's grief was no more to be seen or heard; the first paroxysm had passed over, and now he was ashamed of having been so battered down by emotion; and though his sorrow for the loss of his mother was a deep real feeling, and would last out his life, it was never to be spoken of again. Margaret's manner, even when speaking on indifferent things, had a mournful tenderness about it, which was deepened whenever her looks fell on Frederick, and she thought of his impending departure. However, whenever her looks fell on John, her spirits would rise and she was reminded of his endearing love and their hope for a bright future. This gave her the fortitude to become a strong angel of comfort to her father and brother.

John and Margaret consulted with Mr. Bell as well Mrs. Thornton on the funeral arrangements. Mr. Bell insisted on paying for everything. He felt somewhat responsible as it was his recommendation that his good friend uproot his family and relocate in Milton. Mr. Thornton tried to argue this point with him but the man would have none of it. Margaret tried to reassure him that her mother's illness predated their removal to Milton and that good things had come of their move to that city, such as her marriage to John, but he maintained his position. He was, after all, wealthier than all of them.

The funeral would take place in two days at the same church that hosted John and Margaret's wedding the previous week. On behalf of her family Margaret graciously accepted a place in the Thornton burial plot for her mother. Since the hill on which the cemetery was located was one of her favorite walks in Milton, she was glad that she would be able to visit her mother's grave on a regular basis.

Finally, the quartet decided that Frederick could attend the funeral again taking on the role of John's friend and business acquaintance from Spain who had become well acquainted with Margaret's family. His recent disappearance from Milton society could be explained through the story of a side trip to visit the industrial city of Manchester. If he displayed an excess of emotion at the funeral, that could be explained as the overly empathetic nature of Spaniards.

Frederick was pleased to hear that he could attend his mother's funeral. He would be able to say goodbye properly and spend a little more time with his father and sister and help shoulder the burden the grief of the former would have on the latter. He too was thankful that Mr. Thornton had come into their lives. The man was a grounding presence for his father and a loving husband for his sister. This brought him great comfort and he did not feel so guilty about the necessity for him to leave them now that John was a part of the family.