Disclaimer: This is a non-commercial work of fanfiction. Anything recognizable from Newsies belongs to Disney and not to me.


Chapter 75: Under Scrutiny

A/N: Our tenth and final point-of-view character will be taking over narrative responsibilities for this chapter, so I hope you'll enjoy a closer look at the mind of Sadie's best friend, whom we've only heard from in a cursory manner so far. Thanks as always for your interest in this story, and for hanging in there with me through seventy five chapters! Your perseverance is commendable, and I appreciate you all so much. :) And now, without further ado, I'll let Margaret take it away...


Margaret Ellis secretly prided herself on being far more perceptive than she appeared. It was a calculated deception on her part; insight and keen judgement were of no obvious advantage to a girl of seventeen (and could, in certain social circles, even be a detriment), so she had mastered the art of saying one thing while often thinking quite another, and made it a habit to only reveal her true acumen when she felt it was necessary to do so. She could be candid - even blunt, on occasion - but she considered this an attribute only reserved for people who merited such self-disclosure, and for this reason, there were few who experienced the full extent of Margaret's incisive nature.

Sadie Becker was one of those few.

The two girls maintained a lighthearted friendship, teasing each other and often engaging in the kind of discourse that would give a casual observer the impression that they were simply two schoolgirls of blithe disposition and relatively few concerns, but in private they were far more forthright with each other, even if the teasing never completely ceased.

Sadie regularly spent the night at Margaret's apartment, the latter being an only child and thus not subjected to either the trials or joys of sharing a room with a sibling, and it was here that they found themselves in the early evening, having just returned from their outing to the theater with Rachel and Ruben Lieberman.

"That was a lovely time," Margaret declared as she shrugged off her coat and hung it in her closet. "Claudia Stevens was the perfect Amanda, and Frank Barrett's got an absolutely divine voice - I'm half in love with him already!"

"Should James be worried?" Sadie asked, smiling as she removed her own coat. "Shall I have to give him the lamentable news tomorrow at school that his sweetheart has run off with a touring performer, abandoning him without a word?"

"I'd hardly abandon him without a word," Margaret objected. "I'd write a note at least, first." She held out her hands for Sadie's coat so that she could hang it in the closet alongside her own. "But how was the performance for you?" she asked. "You didn't seem to enjoy yourself nearly as much as I expected."

"It was diverting," Sadie answered tactfully. "I never found it unenjoyable."

"Perhaps it was the company you found not to your liking, then?" Margaret pressed, knowing that there was more in the deflection that had gone unsaid. "You didn't seem to be yourself - except during intermission when you and Rachel got into that ridiculously long conversation about millinery!"

"I'm just tired, Megs." Sadie began to unpin her hat. "It's nearly that time of the month, and you know I'm generally poor company whenever that happens."

"No indeed!" Margaret objected. "I can hardly tell the difference unless you have one of those bad spells where you have to stay home from school. That can't be the reason why you were so standoffish on our outing."

Sadie didn't reply, and Margaret decided to cut to the chase. "You missed an opportunity," she said plainly. "You should have at least made an effort to charm Ruben - he was clearly interested in you and was fishing all afternoon to see if the feeling was reciprocated. You didn't have to act so politely indifferent."

"He only took us out as a courtesy, Megs," Sadie opined, sounding weary. "His behavior to me was no more than civil, and he's going back to Brooklyn tomorrow, anyhow. This wasn't something serious."

"It wasn't serious, but there was intention behind it," Margaret asserted, unwilling to let the matter drop. "And Manhattan's not really such a long distance from Brooklyn, not when you're rich enough to take a carriage any time you want." She regarded her friend seriously, unable to comprehend the other girl's apparent apathy.

"I know a slightly-smitten boy when I see one, Sadie," she continued earnestly, "and if you had just put forth the smallest effort, I know he would have called on you again. Boys like Ruben - who aren't from here - don't come into our circle of acquaintance very often. You really should have given him a chance for that reason alone. And he's clever and courteous and wealthy besides, not to mention rather handsome. His sister is on the demure side, but she's pleasant enough in her own way, and I'm sure the rest of the family is equally agreeable. Isn't that enough to recommend him?"

Sadie carefully removed her hat and set it down. "Perhaps not quite enough."

Margaret sighed. "Please tell me that you haven't written him off simply because he made a slightly insulting remark to a certain window-washer," she said, giving her friend an exasperated look. "I know David's a favorite of yours, Sadie, and that I've teased you about him before, but we both know that it was all in jest. There's really no need for you to be so defensive about your pet project. You've already done your good deed by tutoring him, and I'm sure that's quite sufficient. You don't need to personally snub everyone who insults him, too, especially when it's at your own expense, and - "

"Megs, how can you say that?" Sadie broke in, the sudden fervency in her voice making Margaret gape at her in astonishment. "Is that what you really think? That this is all just some...some benevolent act of charity? That I'm only being kind to Davey because I feel sorry for him?" The words were accompanied not by anger as Margaret expected, but by an anguished look instead. "Is that really, truly what you think?"

Margaret was at a loss. "Well, if it's not that...then what is it?" she asked.

Sadie looked crestfallen at her answer.

"I don't know!" she admitted. "I wish I did. I only asked because…" she trailed off, brushing at her skirt. "...because I wanted to know if my intentions came across as ignorant and short-sighted as they have in the past," she finished. "I wanted to know if I'm really still the same careless, selfish girl that I was before, despite my attempts to change for the better."

She sounded almost tearful, and Margaret could tell that the thought had distressed her (though she was sure that the time of the month didn't help, either).

"I did start out trying to be kind to Davey because Papa admonished me to do so," Sadie continued. "And perhaps a part of me is still motivated by a desire to please him...but I'd like to think that somewhere along the way Davey stopped being a means by which to prove my benevolence, whether to others or to myself. I'd like to think that he's more to me than just a charity case, as you suggest." Her gaze was troubled as she met Margaret's eyes. "But I fear I cannot parse my intentions close enough to know where self-serving motives end and true kindness and regard begin."

"Why did you interject earlier today when Ruben made that jab at David?" Margaret asked, hoping that a few well-placed questions would help her friend work through the matter.

"It wasn't right for him to put Davey down that way, even if it was jokingly intended," Sadie answered, shaking her head a little. "No one should be belittled for doing common work."

"But what payoff did you get for stepping in?" prodded Margaret gently.

"Well…" Sadie hesitated. "None, I suppose."

"Hmm…" Margaret gave her a knowing look. "And what about your tutoring sessions?" she continued. "You seem to put a great deal of effort into preparing for them, at least from what I see at school. If you were only doing it to please your father, you could be skimming by with far less effort on your part while still more or less doing your duty. But I can tell that you actually try to learn the material well."

"I have to, Megs," Sadie asserted. "Davey is smart and he has a bright future ahead of him. I can't let that be derailed simply because I don't wish to pay attention in class. He deserves more than a half-hearted effort from me."

"That's not the way someone talks about a charity case," Margaret observed. "And it's not what a selfish person would say, either."

Sadie looked surprised. "I...suppose it's not," she said slowly. And Margaret could tell that the revelation had hit home, for the other girl smiled slightly again, looking more like herself. "Perhaps I have turned a corner."

She glanced grateful at Margaret. "Thank you, Megs," she said, coming over to squeeze Margaret's hand. "You're always able to help me see reason." She paused for a moment, then admitted, "I confess that part of my offput reaction to Ruben's remark stemmed from the realization that I heard myself - my former self - in his words. I've been ignorant and insensitive to others' situations and unaware of my own privilege at times, and have often spoken carelessly without regard for their feelings. It was that way with Davey at first, in fact, and even today when I apologized for not inviting him to come along with us, I still managed to speak amiss - "

"So that's why it took you so long to come down and rejoin us!" Margaret broke in, sounding amused. "I didn't buy your excuse for a moment, but I thought that perhaps you'd forgotten to take care of some task for your father. I had no idea that you'd lingered behind to speak with David." A thought suddenly crossed her mind, and her smile grew. "Sadie, you're not actually sweet on him, are you? You don't mean to tell me that I've been touching a nerve with all of my teasing?"

"Of course not, Megs," Sadie replied, smiling even as she shook her head. "We'd be a laughable pair indeed! He's far too intelligent and clear-headed to take up with someone like me, and I'm far too free-spirited to be of any good to him. We're much better off as friends without expectations and roles confounding things."

"So you don't find him at all attractive?" Margaret asked, raising an eyebrow. "You're not the least bit interested in seeing if this could become more?"

Sadie gave her an indulgent look. "I'll confess that I do think Davey is a rather fascinating person, and that I find his company pleasant and our conversations enjoyable," she admitted. "It would be untruthful to say that I do not harbor a special kind of regard - perhaps even fondness - for him, particularly because he is so unique. But I've no inclination to set my cap at him. We're simply too different; it would be an ill-advised match, all told."

"I suppose he is a little too serious for you," Margaret conceded. "Though you could do worse."

"Indeed." Sadie pursed her lips. "Though I'd rather not speak of that just now, especially when there's a more pressing matter requiring my attention: namely, whether or not I am duty-bound to inform James of the nascent competition that's about to upend his love life, courtesy of the dashing Frank Barrett!"

"You'll do no such thing," Margaret chided, shaking her finger at the other girl. "He won't understand the humor in it and is bound to take it seriously!"

"Well then, perhaps you'd like to buy my silence with something sweet from the pantry?" Sadie suggested. "I believe I could be persuaded to keep quiet in return for a slice of your mother's lemon cake."

"I think that could be arranged," Margaret conceded, and the two of them made their way towards the kitchen.


Sadie and Margaret spent a pleasant evening in each other's company, enjoying a delectable meal (complete with a second piece of lemon cake for dessert) which was followed by a long talk that went well into the evening until they both succumbed to slumber, falling asleep on Margaret's large four-poster bed.

The following morning, Margaret awoke to find her friend curled up under a blanket, hugging a pillow to her midsection and looking rather ill.

"Is it...?" Margaret asked.

Sadie nodded weakly. "Fortunately I was prepared, but I feel terrible."

Margaret hummed sympathetically. She generally felt no worse than mildly unwell when her period came, but Sadie, for whatever reason, occasionally had bouts of severe cramping that made it difficult for her to go about her normal routine.

"Will you be staying back from school, then?" Margaret asked, sliding out of bed. "Shall I let Mr. Crowell know that you're indisposed?"

"Yes please," Sadie answered, her voice sounding a bit muffled from under the covers where she'd retreated. "Your parents won't mind if I stay here for a few more hours before heading home, will they?"

"They wouldn't hear of you walking back in your condition," Margaret assured her. "Stay as long as you'd like - all day if it suits you." She opened her closet and began browsing through her wardrobe. "I'll meet Abby at our usual spot and will walk her and Les back to the tenement after school, too."

"Thank you," Sadie murmured.

"You don't have to go to Gorham's today, do you?"

"Not today, fortunately. I'm due back tomorrow afternoon, and I should be feeling much better by then."

"Well, if you need anything, just ask Mother." Margaret pulled a skirt and shirtwaist out of the closet. "I'll let her know to check in on you from time to time before I leave."

It was a sign of how truly ill Sadie was feeling that she didn't protest, only murmured her thanks before burrowing even further under the blankets and falling silent again. Margaret dressed and styled her hair as quietly as she could, but Sadie didn't stir, and by the time Margaret was ready to head out the door, she was fairly certain that her friend had fallen asleep, but just as she was about to quietly close the door behind her, she heard the other girl's plaintive voice.

"Megs, if you see Davey at school when he comes to drop off Les, will you tell him I'm sorry I won't be able to tutor him tonight?"

Margaret gave her assent, then with a gentle admonition to her friend to rest and to feel better, shut the door behind her and took her leave.

As agreed upon, she met Abby at their usual meeting spot by the barbershop on the corner that was halfway between the Becker and Ellis apartments. After explaining the situation to the younger girl and exchanging their perfunctory morning greetings, Margaret set off with her young charge in the direction of the schoolhouse.

It was a surprisingly brisk morning; the November air had not quite settled into a chill, but in its crispness was the slightest hint of the winter to come, and Margaret found herself surprised at how quickly the last few months seemed to have passed.

Little was said on the way to school, Abby not being much of a morning person and Margaret missing Sadie's convivial presence. As they drew near the schoolyard, Margaret noticed the Jacobs brothers arriving just before them, David with his newsboy cap on his head and his canvas bag slung over his shoulder, probably about to head to the distribution center once he'd ensured that his brother had made it to school safely and on time.

Abby waved a hello to him as she hurried through the gate, eager to claim her favorite desk in class, and he returned the gesture with a slight smile before he bid goodbye to Les, who much more reluctantly made his way towards the schoolroom.

"Good morning, David," Margaret said politely as he held the gate open for her. He echoed her greeting, looking like he wanted to say something but clearly conflicted about doing so, and she was about to deliver Sadie's message to him when he suddenly brought up the topic of the missing girl himself.

"Margaret, is Sadie all right?" he asked. "Did something happen with Lilly?"

So, Margaret noted with surprise, he knew about Lilly. "Lilly's fine," she answered. "And Sadie is, too. She was just feeling unwell this morning and decided to stay back to rest, but she'll be here tomorrow morning. She sends her regrets that she won't be able to tutor you this evening on account of her ailment."

"It's not anything serious, is it?" David asked, sounding worried.

"Not at all." Margaret moved aside so that a few of their arriving classmates could pass by. "This happens regularly, in fact."

"It...does?" He looked bewildered, and she could tell that he was trying very hard to figure out why he hadn't noticed this recurring affliction before.

"Yes, it does," she replied, hoping that he would put two and two together. When he still seemed confused, she added meaningfully, "every month or so."

She watched as comprehension suddenly dawned upon his face. "Oh. Oh!" He blushed. "Right."

He's only got a brother, no sisters, Margaret reminded herself, trying not to roll her eyes. Before she could come up with a suitable reply, he interjected quickly.

"Do you think there's anything she needs, or…?"

"I'm sure she's perfectly fine," Margaret said, struggling now to keep a straight face, "seeing as she's been through this a few times before and has yet to do anything other than survive the ordeal quite handsomely."

"Right, right, of course," he said again, shoving his hands into his pockets. The school bell rang, warning that there were only five more minutes before the lesson began, and he gave her an embarrassed smile. "Sorry, I didn't mean to hold you up, Margaret," he apologized. "I hope you have a good day in class." He gave her a little nod, then turned and walked off quickly in the direction of the distribution center.

Margaret made her way to the schoolroom, mulling over the conversation that had just taken place.

Previous to this encounter, she'd been more or less ambivalent to David as a person. She thought it was fascinating that he'd lead the newsboy strike and had his picture in the paper, of course, but she personally found him rather awkward and boring, and thus far he'd served only as a means by which she could good-naturedly tease her best friend, though now of course she knew for certain that Sadie's interest in David was not of the romantic kind, and that she did not see their friendship at all in that light.

However, after observing their classmate's genuine concern and embarrassed sincerity just moments ago, Margaret began to wonder if maybe the feelings of mere friendly regard weren't as mutual as Sadie had made them sound. Perhaps she ought to have given David a bit more credit, in fact. He was clearly willing to overcome his reticence to ask after Sadie, and even to look foolish while doing so, which seemed to indicate that he actually cared about her (though the nature of that concern had yet to be determined). It wasn't uncommon for Margaret to find herself fielding questions from a boy about her best friend...but the inquiries she normally received were far more self-interested in nature.

Sliding into her seat, she mulled over the thought some more as she situated her schoolbook, slate, and lunch pail in their proper places. Could it be possible, she wondered to herself, that Ruben Lieberman was not the only boy who had recently taken a shine to Sadie? Was David Jacobs quietly interested in her as well?

Margaret found herself comparing the two prospects, something she knew Sadie would decry as untoward, but it didn't matter - someone had to do it, and it was better for that someone be Margaret, an impartial outside observer who (she flattered herself) had rather good taste where boys were concerned.

Ruben, of course, held all of the obvious advantages; he was pleasant and attentive, well-spoken and well-mannered, agreeably clever, and good-looking to boot. Most of all, he was rich, and likely to become richer if he inherited his father's prosperous business empire. It should have been an easy decision - the Brooklyn boy had a nearly-flawless list of reasons to recommend him, and by contrast, David had almost nothing...

Well, not nothing, Margaret reminded herself. He had his brief brush with fame - getting your picture in the paper was no small thing, and David had been a part of making history, which wasn't something you came across every day in a boy. He was smart, too - a different kind of smart, the kind of smart that didn't just come from knowing information but came from being able to apply that information. Resourceful, perhaps. Margaret had observed it just fleetingly in her limited interactions with him, but she knew that it was there. In comparison to Ruben, David didn't seem to be particularly eloquent, but he did seem to be sincere, and Margaret found herself wondering if at the end of the day that was just as desirable a trait as being well-spoken, though she wasn't sure. At any rate, that point was a draw, and when it came to who was better looking, she had to admit that David might have had his friend beat in that department, if only by a hair.

But David was poor. And that single factor made it difficult to justify his selection as a preferable candidate for Sadie's affection. Ruben was by far the better match.

Margaret, however, had always found it more compelling to root for the underdog.

It was something to be pondered further at another time. The older Jacobs boy was still largely an enigma, and while Margaret had been certain of Ruben's interest in Sadie, she was less sure about David's. More evidence would need to be gathered before a conclusive decision could be reached and an appropriate response could be made (for Margaret did not intend to let the matter lie despite the fact that her friend seemed to have no romantic inclination towards either of the boys in question. What she'd said to Sadie was true; boys who weren't from Manhattan - who hadn't already been a part of their circle for years - didn't come along very often. Her friend ought to be making the most of the opportunity).

Ruben might already be a lost cause at this point; he and his sister had returned to Brooklyn, and in the absence of any encouragement from Sadie, it was not likely that he would call again. Margaret regretted the loss for her friend's sake, but there was nothing that could be done; the businessman's son had left town and was now sadly beyond the reach of Margaret's scrutiny or influence.

David, however, had no such immunity. And Margaret would be keeping a much closer eye on him in the future.


A/N: Thus the scrutiny begins. :) Thanks for reading! I'd be so grateful if you'd drop a review on your way out, even if it's just a word or two - feedback motivates me to keep plugging away, and your words are always appreciated!