Mr. Thornton asks a bitter question while visiting at the Hale home and disparages Margaret in front of Richard Hale and Mr. Bell. Margaret was deeply hurt, and decided that she would tell Mr. Thornton exactly how she feels about it. The story begins after Chapter 39 in the canon and refers to the question, "Is Miss Hale so remarkable for the truth?" from Chapter 40.
Thought fights with thought; out springs a spark of truth
From the collision of the sword and shield.
-W.S. Landor"
― Elizabeth Gaskell, North and South
Margaret woke the following morning with the heavy cloak of melancholy weighing on her shoulders. Try as she might, she could not shake it off.
She sat up in bed and thought about how John Thornton had disparaged her the previous evening in front of her father and Mr. Bell. His words played over in her mind, "'Is Miss Hale so remarkable for the truth?'"
Margaret had been so stunned and hurt by his words that she could not even speak. She held her tears back and continued to sew as if he had not shamed her with the truth of his bitter words. She deserved that shame, but it hurt because he thought little of her now.
She had once been remarkable for the truth. She utterly disdained falsehoods. Yet, for the safety of her brother, she had lied. That Mr. Thornton protected her from an inquest which could have exposed Fred and his crime to all of Milton and would have resulted in his capture made matters even worse. The navy was merciless in their punishment for the crime of mutiny, and Fred could have ended up in the gallows.
No, if she had to do it all again, she would still lie to protect her brother. Her reputation was a small price to pay to protect his life. But it was a steep price, a very steep price indeed. Oh, she cared little for the small-minded tittle-tattles in Milton. Their opinion meant little to her, but the loss of Mr. Thornton's good opinion was more than she could bear. But…she had little choice in the matter. Mr. Thornton was a magistrate and the truth could put him in a compromising position between his duty to the Crown and his friendship with her father.
Sighing, she got up and began her morning absolutions. She looked into the mirror to dress her hair and thought to herself, "Oh, how unhappy this last year has been! I have passed out of childhood into old age. I have had no youth—no womanhood; the hopes of womanhood have closed for me—for I shall never marry; and I anticipate cares and sorrows just as if I were an old woman, and with the same fearful spirit. I am weary of this continual call upon me for strength."
Downstairs, she went to the kitchen to ask Dixon for a cup of tea. Dixon poured a cup for Margaret and added a freshly baked scone to a plate for her young mistress before waving her out of her kitchen.
With teacup and plate in hand, Margaret returned to her room to tend to her correspondence. She had yet to answer Edith's last letter, and when she sat down at her desk to write, she once again thought of what Mr. Thornton had said last evening and, at that moment, she could not tolerate one more misunderstanding between them.
She picked up her quill and began to write. There was something so cathartic about expressing herself in a letter. She could crumple up the paper and throw it out and start all over again. If only conversations could be like that. People could have a second chance to say what they really meant to say instead of what they actually said.
Margaret had wished many times that she could take back her words the day after the riot when Mr. Thornton came to ask for her hand. It was a great honor for a man to offer a woman his heart, and Margaret had been so unkind. It was badly done, and she regretted how she had spoken to him.
An hour later, satisfied that she had spoken her mind with civility, she stepped out on the front porch and paid the neighbor boy with a coin to take the letter to Marlborough Mills.
oooOOOooo
John Thornton was sitting at his desk tabulating columns of figures when Williams interrupted his concentration and laid the post on the corner of the desk. John barely looked up, and Williams turned to leave, but not before telling Thornton that on the top of the mail was a message from Crampton.
John had buried himself in his work all morning trying to forget the pain he caused Miss Hale last night. He had hurt her with his petulance, and he had done so in the company of her father and Mr. Bell. It was unforgivable. He was a man of honor, and a man of honor did not belittle a woman under any circumstances. Yet, he did, and not just any woman, he disparaged the woman he loved with all his heart.
He sighed and picked up the missive. He expected it was a note from Richard Hale asking him to call so that he could remonstrate him for his behavior last night.
He broke the seal. The scent of lavender and roses wafted to his nose as he unfolded the page. His pulse quickened; the note had to be from Miss Hale.
Mr. Thornton,
I am quite aware that it is unusual for a young lady to write a note to a man to whom she is not engaged, but I find myself in need of telling you my thoughts about something you said last night.
You have every right to question if I am so remarkable for the truth, as I did lie to the police inspector about being at Outwood Station the night you saw me there. I have told you that the secret is another person's, but you have so little faith in my character that you do not believe there could be another explanation for what you saw that night. My mother had shed her mortal coil only hours before, so it makes no sense that the person I was with was anyone other than family who had come to say goodbye to Mama.
Mr. Thornton, I am a sinner and I confess my sins daily to God and by his grace, I am forgiven. My sins are private and only known to me and my Heavenly Father. In this instance, my shame is no longer private, and last night, you made it even more painful to endure in front of Papa and Mr. Bell. I would never have believed you capable of such cruelty, and I am now well aware of what you must think of me.
I have lost your good opinion, and I must admit it does grieve me.
I feel that if I did not speak to you about this matter, it would become a sore that would fester and become even more painful with time. You think poorly of my character because you never trusted my character to begin with, I think. I am the same woman whom I always was, just sadder and wiser for a choice I made to protect someone from great harm. I would do it again, despite the price I have paid for my lie.
Sincerely, Margaret Hale
John reread the letter three times. He felt the weight of his own shame course through his veins.
He had been cruel and unkind last night. He was out of sorts and could not seem to control himself. He owed her an apology for more than just his wayward tongue, but also for doubting her character. He had once held her as the epitome of womanliness and all that was good in the world. Was he so blinded by jealousy that he could not believe her words that the man he saw her with was not her lover? Was he so eager to believe the worst of her because his unrequited love for her tormented his soul every waking moment?
John picked up his quill, took out a sheet of his finest parchment, and wrote his reply to Miss Hale.
Two hours later, he was finally satisfied with his response. The floor was littered with his failed attempts. He folded the letter and sealed it. He went out to the yard and found his most reliable young man to deliver his apology to Miss Hale.
oooOOOooo
Margaret was sitting in the study with Mr. Bell and her papa when Dixon brought the missive to her. Margaret excused herself to the drawing room to read it in privacy.
Miss Hale,
I spent a miserable night after my churlish behavior toward you last evening and have fared little better today. I must offer my deepest apologies for the bitterness of my words. I have no excuse other than I have been tormented by the memory of seeing you in the arms of another man. My mind has been clouded by jealousy since that time, and it has made me incapable of thinking rationally.
I did not trust in your character, and I am sorry. I know you to be a woman of strong moral character, and after reading your letter, I do not have the words to express my shame for how I have treated you since that night.
Now, I must confess a lie of my own. You see, Miss Hale, I am a hypocrite. I disparage you for lying, but I have lied as well. When I told you that any foolish passion I felt for you was over, it was a blatant falsehood. I lashed out like a petulant child to hurt you. However, I told you long ago that I would not express my feelings for you again, and I will honor my word.
I do not know how you can forgive me, but my apology is sincere. You are right, I am not a gentleman, or at the very least, I have not behaved as one.
Humbly, John Thornton
Margaret did forgive him, and the hurt from last night was ushered from her heart the minute she read his words.
Her heart lifted with his confession that he had lied to her about his feelings for her. A seed of hope took root that their misunderstandings could become understandings if they just spoke from their hearts.
Margaret went to her room to put the letter in her bureau drawer and went to ask her papa if they could invite Mr. Thornton for dinner tomorrow night.
Mr. Hale and Mr. Bell looked at Margaret in surprise. They had just been speaking about how Thornton had been so out of sorts last night.
Margaret asked again and waited patiently for her father to answer.
"Yes, My Pearl, John is welcome for dinner here at any time."
Margaret bent down to kiss her dear papa's cheek and left the men to ponder on what had come over her.
She returned to her room, wrote a quick missive, and then sent the neighbor boy back to Marlborough Mills to deliver it.
oooOOOooo
John had been agitated since sending his letter. He had brooded over hers to him for quite some time, castigating himself roundly for his behavior. He only hoped his apology would be enough for her to forgive him. She may never love him, but he could not bear her to think badly of him.
He was out in the yard with Higgins overseeing a shipment of cotton when the messenger arrived with a letter from Crampton. John excused himself and went to read the note in private.
He broke the seal.
Mr. Thornton,
Of course, I forgive you. From now on, I suggest we speak candidly to one another and do our best to give the other grace.
Will you come to dinner tomorrow night at 7:00? Papa, Mr. Bell, and I look forward to spending the evening in your company.
Oh, and I am not afraid of any expression of your feelings that you may want to speak of. Yours, Margaret Hale
He sat at his desk for several minutes, shaking his head in disbelief. She forgave him, and...she was not afraid of any expression of his feelings. Relief washed over him in waves.
John smiled. Margaret Hale was truly an extraordinary woman. He might just tell her so after dinner tomorrow night.
Grace, indeed.
Note:I quoted from the text of North and South three times in this story. I have used quotation marks to indicate that these are Elizabeth Gaskell's words, not mine. Thank you for reading!
As always, comments are most welcome!