Margaret of the North (36 page)

When he gave his wife his usual
parting kiss before he left for the mill, John drew her close and whispered,
"Thank, you my love.  You are a treasure.  Wait for me in our sitting room
this evening?"

**************

During lunch break at the mill
dining hall, John sought Nicholas Higgins and asked him to come to the office
one hour before closing time.

Nicholas was prompt.  "Good
evening, master.  You had something worrisome in your mind you wanted to talk
about."

"Was it that obvious?"

Nicholas smiled and then became
serious.  "Is it the matter regarding Mrs. Thornton?  Your mother, I
mean."  He explained, smiling once again, "Everyone around here calls
your wife Mrs. Margaret.  It shows they like her.  That is what I think,
anyway."

"Yes, about my mother, Mrs.
Thornton.  Please take a seat."  He leaned back against his chair,
frowning.  "It is a rather delicate matter, if you must know."

"I do know and I understand
your problem more than you think I do.  I am sorry to force you to make a hard
decision but I must take workers concerns seriously and get them resolved in
their favor as well as I could."

"Of course.  But realize
that, as master, my position with respect to those concerns may often be
opposite to yours.  My mother helped me start this mill and across the years,
she has made many suggestions that make the mill work as well as it does.  This
has been her life as much as mine."

"That is common knowledge
and I have explained to the workers the difficulty it poses but the truth is it
is not their concern."

"No.  But it is mine and I
cannot ignore it."

"I have looked into this
problem closely.  I found that all the children are afraid of her and most of
the workers are nervous when she is around.  Her presence alone reminds them
that they could lose their jobs on the spot if she thought they were not always
hard at work.  You know the danger in these machines.  You need a steady hand
with them."

John nodded thoughtfully,
"How about you?  Does my mother intimidate you ?"

Nicholas smiled and shrugged,
"I admit that she does, in general.  Your mother has a presence that
cannot be ignored but she does not affect my work.  Still, I admit that I
prefer she does not come."

"Yes?"

"Let me put it this way. 
Some workers are clever enough to see that she is not a master or an overseer
and has no business being around, telling them what to do, even if she knew
what she was doing."

John nodded and Nicholas went on
to push his argument further.  "What we are asking will not cost you
money.  No new machinery.  No higher wages.  Your decision in our favor will
show goodwill and will earn you the workers' trust.  In turn, they are more
likely to stay in the mill longer, and even work harder.  You understand very
well the consequence of working a few minutes beyond time in order to finish a
job."

John regarded Nicholas for a long
moment when he finished and then, a scowl slowly etching his brow, he turned to
stare thoughtfully out the window.  Nicholas sat, quietly waiting.  After a few
minutes of reflection, John said, "You have argued your position well but
I do need time to decide what to do.  Could you tell the workers that?  They
will probably see my mother back but until I make an announcement, nothing is
settled."

"I will tell them to be
patient.  I know that you know that if you did nothing at all, we cannot and
will not retaliate.  All we can do is hope for a favorable decision."

"I am indeed aware of that
and I want to do what is right but I need time to think things through.  For
now, I do need to go because my wife is waiting for me."  John rose from
his chair.

The expression on Nicholas face
changed from serious to smiling.  "How is Mrs. Margaret?  I do not see
Mary much anymore, now that she helps take care of your daughter.  She used to
tell me of the goings-on in your house."

John smiled brightly at him,
"Why don't you come by sometime?  Elise is growing up fast."

The two of them walked out of the
office talking animatedly, settling back into their friendship, leaving their
master and worker personas in the office.

**************

John, carrying a bouquet of
roses, found Margaret alone on the sofa and reading a book when he entered
their sitting room.  Margaret smiled broadly at him as she closed her book and
laid it on the side table.  "Roses!  What is the special occasion?"

He handed her the bouquet with a
lingering kiss.  "I do not need a special occasion to show my wife how
deeply and passionately I love her."

He smiled engagingly and sat down
next to her.  "The little one must be in bed for the night."

"Yes.  She began to crawl
today and tired herself out showing off to everyone in the house."

"Another little accomplishment
that I missed."

"Let me just put these
flowers in a vase and I will be back in a minute.  I want these roses to last
as long as possible."  She rose to get a vase and some water.

She set the vase on the table in
front of them and sat next to him, "We have been spending most afternoons
in the conservatory and we were there again today."

"That must be a pleasant
place now that fall is almost here."

"Quite.  We often lay a rug
on the floor and sit Elise on a cushion on the rug where she is often content
to play with her toys.  Today as I was doing a sketch of her and Mary sitting
on a chair behind her, Elise started to crawl.  It seems she wanted to come
towards me at the other end of the room.  She fell a few times but kept trying
until she reached me.  When she did, I picked her up, hugged her, and showered
her with kisses.  She squealed so loudly with delight that it brought the
servants into the conservatory to see what was going on.  She started clapping
her hands at seeing so many of us all around her at once.  After a while, she
squirmed to be put down.  She spent most of her afternoon crawling between Mary
and me, expecting to be picked up and hugged at each end.  The servants watched
and clapped every time she reached one end until Dixon came to remind the
servants of the work they had to finish."

"I am sorry to have missed
all the fun."

"You'll undoubtedly see her
try it this weekend.  Also, I did a few sketches of her attempt.  I could show
them to you some time, if you want."

John grinned, "Yes, this
weekend would be good.  I do have that to look forward to."  A little more
seriously, he placed a hand on her chin and lifted her face towards his,
"Since that day you came home with me, you have never been far from my
thoughts, when I am at the mill.  Well, to be truthful, you have occupied a
permanent place in my thoughts and my heart since I fell in love with you. 
Now, you have given me Elise, too, and I have you both to keep me company at
work."

She blushed as she smiled with
pleasure.  "But I could not have had her without you!"  Margaret
leaned her head on his shoulders and wound her arms around his chest.  He
clasped her closer.

"Why, yes!   How could I
have forgotten that?"  He laughed, in self-mockery, and added, playfully,
"What if I told you that, in fact, I remember the exact day and
time?"

She raised her head, amused,
doubting, and then, uncertain, "You jest!"

He laughed louder, gave her a
peck on the nose and said nothing.  She examined the expression on his face but
he merely stared back at her, his eyes glowing with subdued laughter.  He
remained silent and finally convinced that he could not be budged, she laid her
face against his neck.  They said no more, content merely to hold each other.

Later, she asked, her voice
muffled against his neck, "How did your day go?"

"I talked to Nicholas this
afternoon."  He replied in a low voice.

She raised her head, alert and
attentive, "About Hannah?"

"Yes.  I told him I needed
time to make a decision and he said he will explain to the workers that they
may yet see my mother for some time."

"Are you inclined to decide
in their favor?"

"Nicholas argued their
position rather convincingly.  I really do not know.  I was hoping that talking
with you would help."

"Frankly, I do not believe I
can give you advice.  I can tell you what I think and, perhaps, another
viewpoint might help make things clearer."

"You did advise me to talk
to Nicholas.  It may not have brought me closer to a decision but it
helped."

"Can you talk to your mother
as well?"

"But what will I say to
her?  He paused thoughtfully and Margaret waited in silence.  John continued,
regret evident in his voice.  "My mother and I have grown apart.  I used
to talk with her the way I do with you now.  But since I met you, I began to
see many things differently and by the time you left for London, I was talking
to her less and keeping my thoughts to myself.  When you came back, it became
clearer to me that my mother and I had lost much of the ease we used to have
with each other."

Margaret was at a loss about what
to say, her eyes cast down.  This confession brought back the sadness,
helplessness, and the  culpability she felt about Mrs. Thornton.

John continued solemnly,
"The mill seems to be all we talk about now but even in that, we have
avoided anything that has to do with new things I have done that she thinks are
useless."

Margaret looked up.  "You
mean those that do not seem directly related to working conditions like the
dining hall and the regular meetings with worker representatives?"

"Yes.  So how can I tell her
now that I am inclined to side with them against her?"

Margaret smiled sympathetically
and then, in a hopeful voice, suggested, "What if you argued that doing so
is necessary for the efficient running of the mill?  I recollect my father
telling me that your mother told him the mill is everything and, to him, it
meant that she was ready to endure anything for its sake."

"She would appreciate that
reasoning."  He hesitated, "But if it comes across that her presence
at the mill is bad for its efficient operation—no, I cannot hurt her in that
way."

"Yes, I see.  You are
right."  They sat, silent and thoughtful, until it was time to go down to
dinner.

**************

Back in their bedroom after
dinner, Margaret sat in front of her dresser, brushing her hair and mulling
over the matter that had lately dominated their conversations.  When John came
in from his bath, she addressed his reflection on the mirror.  "Perhaps,
it is best to be honest.  My father used to say it was the only way to deal
with truth regardless of how painful it is."

"I thought so, too, at
dinner, seeing my strong-willed mother sitting there.  It is worth considering
that approach, but not tonight."  He stood behind her chair as she brushed
her hair.  At the end of the day, especially when he was tired, he found it
relaxing to watch his wife go through these little rituals before going to bed.

"I am afraid I am too tired
to make hard decisions.  Besides, the bed beckons with its warm covers." 
He took the brush from her hand and laid it on the dresser.  "Join
me?"

She smiled up at him as he pulled
her up.  "Ah yes, the perfect cure for tiredness.  Luxuriating in a soft
bed."

"Much better if your wife
helps warm it up with you."

John's misgivings about being
honest with his mother haunted him again in the morning and occupied his
thoughts as he walked to the mill.  This situation was new for him, having
never had any problems in the past being honest with his mother, particularly on
matters pertaining to the mill.  He had never taken a position which opposed
hers so blatantly nor—worse than that—made decisions that caused her
incalculable pain.  They had always seemed to be of one mind on important
matters about the mill.  And yet, what other choice did he have if he believed
the workers' request to be legitimate and reasonable and that, in the long run,
granting it was best for the mill?

Of Nicholas's arguments, what
concerned him most was the safety of children workers.  He had always tried to
protect the children in his mill but now that he had his own child, he had
become uncompromising in his unwillingness to take risks with their safety.  It
saddened him to see that anyone below 14 had to work in a factory but if he
could not change the law nor the realities of poverty that force children to
work, he could at least take steps to make working conditions as good and as
safe as possible for these children.  If his mother's presence compromised
their safety from their fear of her—regardless of whether that fear was
irrational or not—he would ask his mother to stop going to the mill.

By the time he reached his
office, he knew that his only choice was honesty about what he believed must be
done and he resolved to come home earlier that evening to talk to his mother
before dinner.  As heartbreaking as the task was before him, postponing it
would only put off the inevitable.

His mother was alone in the
drawing room with her embroidery when John came home.  It gratified him to see
her resume some of her old habits.  Before his marriage, it comforted him to
come home from work and find her relaxed, contented, working on her needlework
in the drawing room.  He had taken this peaceful domestic scenario for
granted.  He had not hurried home for it as he now did at the end of the day,
impatient to be with Margaret whom he sought with the tender anticipation of
gazing into her limpid eyes and submitting himself to all the little loving
ministrations that she thought he needed.  The sight of his mother engaged in a
pleasant, satisfying task, doing whatever she wanted to—she to whom he owed
boundless gratitude for all her sacrifices and efforts to improve his lot—meant
that he had repaid her, given her what she desired and certainly deserved.