Margaret of the North

by EJourney

  "What a wonderful idea! And you say our trip to Paris gave you this idea?"

  "Largely that, yes; but our whole vacation made me think. I think the informality at your brother's house in Cadiz, helped the two of us, Frederick and me, quickly become companionable. I hope we can have some of that informal atmosphere in the dining hall."

  "But the whole atmosphere in Cadiz is so open, airy, and encourages such informality, not at all somber like here and, of course, the Spanish temperament is so different."

  "You are not trying to dissuade me now, are you?" He teased before replying in a more serious vein. "I did think about all that and realized it could be a great deal harder for the men here to open up to each other but I must try, anyway. The dining hall will easily sustain itself and if it does not become the social place I was hoping for, it is there to nourish bodies at least."

  "I suppose the hall can be made as inviting as possible to encourage the men to go there outside of mealtimes." She was thoughtful, for some moments. "Can I help the women spruce the place up?"

  "Are you up to it? Maybe, we should ask Dr. Donaldson before you do anything of the sort."

  "He did tell me I was free to do anything I want so long as it does not cause any physical discomfort."

  "I can tell you when the women start decorating the place. They will first come and clean. You can come after that."

  "Not until then? Did you know I can wash and iron linen?"

  She was teasing him but it bothered him somehow and he scowled at her. "Not my wife!" He was immediately sorry and added, apologetically, "not in your condition, anyway."

  "It's not so bad although it is exhausting work. I did it when I first came to Milton and Dixon could not find help willing to take the wages my father could pay. Why, I remember my first big job! It was washing and ironing curtains so that your first dinner at our house would be as pleasant as possible."

  "I'm sorry. I did not mean to ridicule that type of work. But you do not have to do that and I would rather that you only help with decorating the dining hall."

  "Yes, of course. I was only teasing about the cleaning. You have been looking so serious in our walk and I wanted to lighten your mood a little."

  He smiled at her engagingly, "Is that better?" He waited for a reaction and she obliged him with a bright smile, a nod and a peck on his cheek.

  As they were approaching the mill, he asked, "Did you really wash and iron all those curtains for me?"

  **************

  Margaret's morning spells had lessened considerably by the time John told her that the mill's dining hall was finally finished, cleaned, and ready to be arranged and decorated. He would take her the next morning to meet with the women workers who intended to arrange the tables and chairs that had been stacked up on one side of the hall. She woke up earlier than usual, had her tea and toast, dressed, and came down with John to the dining room. Mrs. Thornton heard them talking before they came into the room and was therefore not surprised when Margaret appeared and greeted her.

  "You must be feeling better from those spells," she remarked. She had enjoyed the short time alone with her son at breakfast and had not minded Margaret's absence. Secretly, she hoped for this morning routine to continue. "Are you ready to come and talk to the servants with me this morning?"

  Smiling apologetically, Margaret answered, "I am sorry. May I prevail on your indulgence a while longer?"

  "Of course. I don't mind," she answered hesitatingly. She looked at her son who calmly drank his tea, his expression noncommittal, his eyes roaming between his wife and his mother and resting, finally, on his wife. Mrs. Thornton was dismayed, unable to comprehend how he could calmly allow his wife so much freedom in deciding when to assume her responsibility in his household.

  "I am going with John this morning to help some women workers set the dining hall up to be ready for use when the mill reopens."

  Mrs. Thornton stared at Margaret, appalled, incredulous, and contemptuous all at the same time. She had openly questioned the usefulness of the dining hall when it first opened. When she heard from John about his plans to expand it so that it could accommodate everyone, she had been very skeptical. She had said nothing, however, convincing herself, with some difficulty, to trust that her son knew what he was doing. She watched the rebuilding and knew that it had just been completed. Now, she was vexed, almost angry that Margaret chose to direct her energy on a futile effort instead of on her proper responsibilities at home.

  "Do they need your help?" She asked, hardly able to conceal a note of sarcasm in her voice.

  "Probably not," Margaret said truthfully.

  "Then, why do you bother?"

  Margaret, in fact, was not certain why. She had offered to help in the enthusiasm of the moment but now she felt compelled to come up with a plausible reason and justify herself to Mrs. Thornton. "Well, I would like to learn about the mill and getting acquainted with the workers while working with them decorating the dining hall seems to me as good a way as any to start. I thought it would help as well for them to get to know me a little."

  It was not the answer to convince Mrs. Thornton; instead, it grated at her, unleashing her frustration at the son who was slipping away from her. "I cannot see how any of that would help. What could you gain from keeping company with the workers who will always color the truth? If you want to learn about the mill, watch the work when it is running."

  John, who had been quietly sipping his tea, was growing more exasperated with his mother, and he turned abruptly towards her. He saw her staring with narrowed eyes and compressed lips at Margaret who, though disconcerted for a moment, stared back with eyes that began to gather fire. John could not remain silent, "Mother, I agree with my wife. Besides, I believe she has some very good ideas to make the hall a pleasant place."

  Not having actually spoken to him about her ideas, Margaret—eyes still flashing and a retort at the tip of her tongue—looked quickly at John who, with a slight shake of his head, appealed with his eyes for her to say nothing. The exchange took but an instant or two but she understood and nodded almost imperceptibly as she lowered her eyes contritely.

  "I never understood the need for that dining hall," Mrs. Thornton insisted, frowning at her son and shaking her head vehemently.

  "I admit it is an experiment but I hope it will eventually lessen strikes. Nothing is ever guaranteed but we must try new ideas." He spoke calmly but evaded his mother's eyes.

  He got up and turned to Margaret, "We must go. I have a lot of work waiting for me."

  Margaret had wanted more breakfast than her habitual tea and toast and hesitated a little but, catching the impatience on John's face, she got up. She glanced at Mrs. Thornton, who stared sullenly at her. Margaret shrugged and followed John to the door.

  He paused before going out the door. "Mother, we can talk a little more this evening."

  John hurried out of the house, a scowl developing and deepening in his brow. Just outside the house, Margaret tugged at his arm, "Slow down, please, I cannot walk as fast as you do."

  He slowed his pace and grasped her hand, "I'm sorry."

  John said nothing more as he led Margaret to the dining hall. She glanced up at him and saw his eyes dark and thoughtful beneath his furrowed brow. He was clearly upset and Margaret opened her mouth to ask him about it but decided it was an inopportune time. He was in no mood to talk and they had almost reached the dining hall. It would have to wait. Still, she could not help suspecting that John's changing attitudes towards workers had become a source of tension between Mrs. Thornton and her son. Margaret knew that the opposing views she and Mrs. Thornton had about workers was a sore point between them and, to Mrs. Thornton, the expansion of the dining hall meant that John was more inclined to side with Margaret.

  **************

  Three women were already unstacking chairs when they arrived. The inside of the hall had been scrubbed clean and smelled of soap. Windows all around brought in as much natural light as
the smoky northern haze could dispense.

  The women stopped what they were doing to greet John and Margaret, "Good morning master, ma'am."

  "Good morning," they replied in unison.

  He continued, "I would like you to meet my wife. She would like to help with decorating."

  The three women were a little wary, each one murmuring almost inaudibly, "How do you do, Mrs. Thornton?" Their experience with the older Mrs. Thornton had not been exactly pleasant; to them, she was a stern taskmaster who they hardly ever saw smiling. They did not know what to expect of Margaret and they wondered if she would be as critical. And yet, the young Mrs. Thornton with her pleasing open face seemed as if she could break out into a smile at any moment. They had also heard that she had been a friend of the Higgins family, especially the hapless Bessy Higgins, and that she had been sympathetic and kind to workers when she first came to Milton. But she did marry one of the mill owners and the women were not certain what to make of her.

  Margaret sensed their hesitation and smiled engagingly. "I do not believe myself to know much more about making this hall more pleasant than you possibly could but I can provide materials you would need—curtains, for example—from the mill and at its expense, of course."

  With that charming smile, that sincere tone, and those words, the three women could not but be drawn in, at least for the moment, by the handsome young wife of their master. The oldest of them replied, "That would be kind, ma'am."

  "You might also think of whitewashing the walls. That would bring more light in here." She turned to John, "We should be able to get some white paint for a light wash, don't you think?"

  "Yes, easily. I could get one of the men to do the whitewashing."

  The youngest of the three women, about Margaret's age, volunteered enthusiastically, "I can help whitewash. I have done it before."

  One of the older women chimed in, "We should all be able to help." She glanced surreptitiously at Margaret's waist. "All three of us, not young Mrs. Thornton, of course. We could finish the job in a day."

  "Thank you. I wouldn't be up to doing that just now but, if you want those curtains, I could help hem them."

  John, seeing his workers warm up to Margaret, took his leave. "I have work to do as well." He turned to his wife, placed his arm around her shoulders, and walked to the door with her.

  Margaret peered at him closer. He appeared more relaxed but she wanted to be sure anyway, "Is anything the matter?"

  "Probably not. I found the conversation with my mother at breakfast a bit frustrating, that's all."

  She nodded at him sympathetically.

  He pressed her hand to his lips, "I'll see you this evening and we can talk then."

  That evening, nobody brought up the subject of the morning's conversation. With everyone determined to be agreeable by talking only about the changing weather and the dishes they were being served, dinner proceeded pleasantly enough.

  **************

  In their bedroom, John looked up from reading the newspaper by the fireplace and addressed Margaret across the room as she brushed her hair in front of the vanity, "I was uncertain how the meeting with those women was going to turn out."

  "Oh? How so?"

  "When I first told them you were offering to help with decorating the hall, they all seemed suspicious and not happy at all."

  "I think I can understand that. Who would want the master's wife coming to tell them what to do?"

  "It is certainly not something any of the wives of my business associates would do."

  "But your mother went to the mill to keep an eye on the work so your workers should be accustomed to having Thornton women "interfere"," she replied lightheartedly, laughing at her use of the last word.

  Her laugh brought on a faint frown from John. "It was different with my mother, as you probably know. Her focus had been, like mine, the efficient running of the mill."

  She stopped brushing her hair and turned towards him, "Well, perhaps, mine is, too, except I approach it differently," she asserted equally irritably.

  Detecting the annoyance in her voice, he put his paper down and walked towards her as she turned her back to him to face the mirror, "That is surely true. If I can charm them and get them to acquiesce as easily as you seem to have done with those women, I might prevent some problems I have had with workers in the past."

  "Deciding about curtains and paint is a great deal simpler than dealing with workers problems." She put her brush down and got up.

  He stood in front of her and studied her face briefly. He was getting used to that defiant expression. It had disconcerted him the first time he had contended with the conviction that was behind it, firm opinions that she had no qualms asserting, opinions opposed to his. His own convictions were so strong that he was hopeless, initially, that they could ever agree, especially when she had turned away looking just as hopeless. This time, conciliatory, he replied with a warm smile meant to coax her out of her vexation, "Maybe so but you did effortlessly overcome the distrust of those women."

  She gave him her half-smile, somewhat pacified, and walked past him towards the bed. "I learned to deal with different people in my father's vicarage. I think it helps to listen and talk to people in terms they can grasp and, if you meet in pleasant circumstances, perhaps, you are more likely to talk and get to know each other."

  He caught her in his arms from behind before she could reach the bed. "That, I think, goes a long way towards relieving distrust and maybe even bitterness."

  She answered in a softer voice as he nuzzled the nape of her neck, "I think so, too. That is why I think your dining hall is a very good idea."

  His voice was muffled, "I'm glad you think so."

  She turned around in his arms, "You know I do." She stood on tiptoe to kiss him. "It's late and I am tired."

  He did not let her go and, clasping her closer, he pressed his lips against her neck, drinking in a mixture of subtle fragrance and a light characteristic odor he had now associated with her. Then, he swept her up in his arms and carried her towards the bed, "Why, you are getting heavier!"

  "I am getting bigger." She retorted, laughing, as he lowered her on the bed.

  She took his hand and placed it on her belly. "I think I felt it kick today."

  He caressed her belly and chuckled, "Your stomach is decidedly bigger."

  "Yes, I'll need some new clothes."

  "Can I still make love to you?

  She did not answer. Instead, she pulled him closer.

  **************

  Margaret, with a sewing basket, rejoined the women at the dining hall a couple of days later after they had applied whitewash. Williams came with her carrying yards of fabric. The women workers had talked among themselves about whether Margaret would come back. The older women were skeptical but the youngest one, Annie, who had liked Margaret from the beginning, could not be dissuaded from her belief that she would.

  They watched through a window as Margaret approached with William.

  "Did I not tell you?" Annie said triumphantly. "She would not have been a friend to Bessy if she was proud. She looks too sweet and beautiful to be mean."

  "Oh Annie!" One of the older women answered as both of them laughed, "Looks have nothing to do with it. There are so many young rich and fancy women, like the master's sister, who turn their noses at us."

  The other older woman continued to stare at Margaret, sizing her up. "I wonder what she wants from us. What does she get from coming?"

  Annie replied, "She is a parson's daughter. Maybe, she grew up being kind and she is not at all fancy."

  "Hush, they're almost here." They walked away from the window and busied themselves cleaning table tops and arranging chairs but they all turned towards the door as Margaret walked in ahead of Williams.

  "Good morning ma'am."

  "Good morning to you all. I have the material I promised. I brought a green fabric, a little on the dark side so dirt should not easily show on it. It would
provide a cheery contrast to the white walls."

  Annie came forward as Williams deposited the fabric on one of the tables, "It's beautiful, ma'am," she said as she ran a hand lightly on the material. One of the older women shook her head at her.

  "I am glad you like it," Margaret smiled at Annie, touching the material as she had done. She then addressed Williams, "Thank you, Williams, you may go."

  She turned her attention back towards the women and asked, "How do you suppose we should proceed with this?"

  "Well, ma'am, we can begin measuring right away," Annie seemed the only one willing or bold enough to answer.

  "That seems to be a good place to start. I brought measuring tape and some paper and pencil."

  Annie was embarrassed and hesitant but Margaret, with an encouraging smile, waited for her to say more. Annie forced herself to disclose in a low voice, "None of us can read or write, ma'am, but we know well enough how to measure and fit the fabric."

  "Well, then, we shall do it your way," Margaret declared in a lively voice.

  For the next few days, the women measured, cut, and hemmed curtains for the dining hall. As they worked, Margaret tried to draw the women out, discreetly asking questions of each. The older women, as she had predicted, were reluctant to share any information about themselves, revealing only enough for Margaret to learn that the oldest woman was Marian who never married and lived alone while the second one, Mary, had grown children who worked in the other mills. Margaret was most interested in Annie who she liked for her enthusiasm and for some native intelligence that Margaret suspected was rendered dormant by a lack of schooling and the necessity to work in the mills as a child. Annie was a little shy but, when prompted with questions, she talked enthusiastically about herself and her two brothers and three sisters, ranging in age from 17- to 8-years old.