by EJourney
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Margaret descended from the bedroom late morning while Mrs. Thornton was absorbed in embroidering a kerchief. "Good Morning, Mrs. Thornton. I am sorry not to see you at breakfast. I am sure John explained the situation to you."
"That he certainly did. I must say I am happy for both of you so early in your marriage."
Margaret sat down opposite Mrs. Thornton, "Thank you. It is true we did not expect a child so soon."
Margaret had caught the sarcasm in Mrs. Thornton's voice and she sat for some minutes without speaking. Neither of them was ready to disturb the silence between them. Margaret had, in fact, sought Mrs. Thornton to tell her about changes in the household and she eventually felt compelled to speak. "I wanted to tell you that Dixon has taken over management of the kitchen. Jane seemed to prefer this arrangement as well."
Without looking up from her work, Mrs. Thornton replied, "That she would. She never liked meal planning and could only cook a few dishes but we did not mind. We have simple tastes in meals."
"Dixon enjoys cooking and she does get inventive but you can tell her what dishes you prefer."
"Shouldn't you be the one who tells her what to do? You are now mistress of this house."
Margaret could not suppress a smile until she saw Mrs. Thornton looking annoyed at her. She hastened to explain, "Ever since I can remember, Dixon managed all my mother's affairs and when we moved to Milton, she ran our household without much direction from anyone. We hardly ever had to tell Dixon what she needed to do. She is quite resourceful and alert to the needs of those she serves."
"You might not have had many servants to deal with."
"No, we did not. Besides Dixon, we only had two in Helstone who cooked, washed and cleaned."
"This is a big house that requires at least two people to clean since it gets dirtier faster from the dust coming from the mill. Then, there are all the social obligations of a well-respected manufacturer. John has to invite business colleagues for small dinners. We also have annual dinner parties for them and other members of the community. These are necessary for him to maintain his standing and his business so managing this household is much more work than is needed in a parsonage in a small hamlet."
"Yes, of course. I am quite aware of my inexperience. I have neither organized dinners nor managed a large staff of servants." Then with an engaging smile at Mrs. Thornton, she added, "Perhaps, you can teach me."
Margaret had been deliberately ingratiating and Mrs. Thornton knew it but she was pleased that Margaret was making an effort to be agreeable. Mrs. Thornton was ready to reciprocate, "I don't think I can really teach you but I can show you how I do it."
"That would suit me fine. In many ways, this household runs itself smoothly, no doubt because you have managed it very well and you have been clear about what you expect of the staff. Perhaps, I could observe when you meet with them."
"That may be difficult if you cannot come down early in the morning in your condition. I usually meet with the staff right after breakfast before eight in the morning."
"Yes, that would be a problem for now. Would you mind very much if we started doing this, maybe in a couple of months? Dr. Donaldson assured me, my morning indisposition should stop then but, in the meantime, could we go on as before? That is, could you continue for a while longer to do as you have done running this household all these years?"
"No, I would not mind." Mrs. Thornton answered but almost immediately, she worried that she might have agreed a little too hastily and added, "But wouldn't John object? It is your responsibility, after all."
"I will talk to him about it. It is only for a short time and I am quite sure John will not mind." Margaret stood up, "I have some letters to write but I will come down for lunch. John should be back about an hour and a half after noon as I am sure he must have told you."
As she walked away, Margaret was struck by how easily she stirred Mrs. Thornton into agreeing to resume her role managing the house, if only temporarily. But she was also aware that this short morning conversation, the first she had had alone with Mrs. Thornton since the latter returned, had not been any easier than those before she and John got married. It was obvious to her that they had both taken the effort to be agreeable and, yet, the strain started from the moment that Margaret came into the room. Margaret sighed helplessly as she ascended the stairs to the bedroom.
That night, Margaret told John about the talk with his mother. "You do not mind, do you? It will give us more time to adjust and, perhaps, become more companionable with each other, for the next two months at least."
"No, it is quite all right. I am glad, actually. She would have her usual chores to occupy her until we reopen the mill."
"I realized as I talked to her this morning that she had much adjusting to do as well and that it may be harder for her."
"I know what you mean. I rushed out this morning before she finished her breakfast and I caught a glimpse of her looking a bit let down. I had always waited for her to finish but so much has changed and I suppose my mind was elsewhere."
"What would she do if she did not have this household to run? Embroider all day? I just cannot see her doing that. All these changes around her—the mill, the house—it must seem as if she has been uprooted from much that is familiar to her! I know only too well how difficult that is."
John put his arms around his wife, "Come, my love. Don't upset yourself. My mother is used to adversity worse than this and she will ride this one as well. In any case, when the mill reopens, she will have that to occupy her. Sometimes, I think that is where she is happiest, anyway."
Margaret laid her head on his shoulder and allowed herself to be comforted, "I merely put myself in her shoes but you are right, I am sure." She remained dubious, however, suspecting that this was somehow a more complicated matter.
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Mrs. Thornton was relieved to resume the daily chore of running the house but found that the changes went beyond Dixon assuming more responsibilities in the kitchen and preparing meals fancier than she had been used to. The chatter of servants had intensified, encouraged by Margaret who engaged them in conversations about themselves and who went for walks with Mary, the new maid. Most of the servants could not help comparing their young mistress to dour old Mrs. Thornton. They liked Mrs. Margaret's livelier spirits, the sincere interest she took in them, and she was extremely pleasing to the eyes, more so than spoiled, lazy Fanny with her fancier dresses. With their unabashed fascination with the lives of the more privileged people they served, they watched this newcomer closely.
They noted early on that she had already made a difference in their master. He had been like his mother, serious and stern, his brow often deeply-furrowed with a scowl. The mill had occupied him and he had lived for it. When Mrs. Margaret arrived, the scowl nearly disappeared, he smiled more, looked younger and much more relaxed, and was much less absentminded. Now, with work on reopening the mill going at full speed, he still found time to come home as often as he could to have lunch with his wife. He took her out for walks and left for work later than he used to. He had always been fair and never spoke harshly to any of them but they could not help liking better the person he had become. The baby that was expected, probably in the spring, also stirred much talk particularly among the maids who looked forward to an even livelier house. Life in the Thornton household was, without a doubt, changing for the better.
When Mrs. Thornton resumed her responsibilities as mistress of the house, the servants were more than a little disappointed despite Dixon's reassurance that it was only going to be for a few weeks—until Mrs. Margaret got over her dizzy spells. Barely a week after Mrs. Thornton returned to her usual routine, the chatter of the servants began to diminish, at least, in her presence. Mrs. Thornton regained much of the comfort she used to have in her daily chores. She did find dealing with Dixon a little more difficult. Used to making decisions on her own and loyal to Margaret, Dixon balked and grumbled when takin
g directions from the older Mrs. Thornton. She invariably did what she was told, however. Margaret, as familiar with Dixon's disposition as the maid was with hers, had forewarned her and instructed her to comply with everything Mrs. Thornton asked of her.
Mrs. Thornton did not resent Dixon for resisting her. She was, after all, only a servant and, to her credit, a loyal one who served one family nearly all her life. The blame lay on the late Mrs. Hale whose responsibility it had been to train her servants to obey and be always aware of their place. It was too late by now to train Dixon and besides, it would no longer matter to her in a couple of months when Margaret resumed her duties running the house.
After a couple of weeks at home, Mrs. Thornton missed even more the time she used to spend at the mill when it had been in operation. Her daily household chores were usually finished by noontime and, with Dixon managing the kitchen, she was much less involved in meal planning and the purchase of food items. Consequently, Mrs. Thornton found herself with more time to spare than she was used to. She did not care for books or music, did not have many friends to write to or have tea with, and she did not need the exercise and diversion of long walks, as Margaret did. While she liked needlework, she did not waste her skills on fancy motifs embroidered on feminine items that most other women occupied themselves with for many hours.
Mrs. Thornton was at a loss about what to do with so much time in her hands. She was impatient for John to reopen the mill so she could resume the responsibility she had taken upon herself ever since Marlborough Mills first opened. She was proud of that role. It helped her son run a more efficient mill and, consequently, a more productive one. She thought it was a truly worthy use of her time and a task in which she could continue to play a significant part in her son's life.
John spent his days at the mill, sometimes coming back to the house to have a late luncheon with Margaret and his mother and usually finishing his work by early evening. Reopening the mill consumed his time and energy and for a few weeks, he had not been able to accompany his wife on her daily walk. He often knew when she and Mary went. Whenever he was in his office, he could see them through the window as they came out of the house.
One afternoon, after an intense schedule of meetings and inspections, he sat in front of his desk, exhausted, staring out his window at the gray day, and wishing he was at a colorful pulsating café in Paris with Margaret. How much he had changed! He laughed wryly at himself and then he heard Margaret's voice. Looking out his window, he saw her and Mary nearly out the gate. He bounded up and hurried out of his office to catch up with them before they were out of sight.
"Mary, I will take my wife out on her walk," he cried out after them
The two women stopped, turned, and waited. He grasped Margaret's hand and hooked it around his arm. She smiled delightedly and said, "It has been awhile! I missed having you on these walks."
"I take great pleasure in them particularly when I am with you but so much needs to be done at the mill and it has kept me rather busy."
"I know and I am glad you could come today," she replied and then nodded at Mary who waited for a sign from her to return to the house. John and Margaret walked towards the gate, gazing at each other happily, unaware of the dark figure watching them with compressed lips from her perch by the window. They headed for the park on the edge of town.
XIII. Restoration
They passed through the city streets in relative silence and had almost reached the park when Margaret said, "I am curious about what you have to do to reopen the mill. Would you tell me?"
"I am glad you are curious. I expected you to be. The process itself is not that complicated and in some ways, it is quite straightforward—bank transactions, facility and machinery inspections, repair or retooling, if necessary, hiring of workers, contacting clients. The complicated part is dealing with people every step of the way, particularly when hiring workers and talking with the bank and potential clients."
"What about customers? How will you get them back?"
"Persuading former clients to place orders again after they had already switched to another manufacturer can be rather tough. I am timing the reopening for when the demand is usually more than what is readily available so I am certain to get some orders. Also, quite a number of clients eventually come back if they see your product is superior, your prices are reasonable, your factory is reliable and they like the way you do business."
She scowled a little in dismay. "That sounds somewhat daunting!"
"Yes, but those are matters you can do something about as a manufacturer."
She nodded, "I see. Are you far along in what you need to do?"
"We're hiring workers right now. In addition, I have been working on putting in place some ideas I have. I thought that since we are almost starting over, it is a good time to begin those, too."
Margaret's curiosity was piqued. "Are these ideas that you hoped would reduce strikes?"
"They may. I hope they do but nothing is ever certain and we will have to wait and see. Regardless, it makes sense to me to initiate these practices."
"Were these the practices you had been hesitant to talk about earlier?"
"I can tell you about one or two I am working on now. You will know soon enough, anyway, since you must have noticed some reconstruction is going on at the mill. I want to get workers, supervisors, and masters talking to each other."
A smile crept up to Margaret's eyes but barely broke on her lips. Their first encounters clearly brought out their opposing views on masters and hands. She had thought him then too harsh in his opinion that workers were inferior and in his belief that masters and workers were always at cross-purposes. In contrast, she had believed that people universally responded to goodwill—whatever the situation—and that talking to each other could go a long way towards that goodwill.
She tried to tell him once that she thought dialogue was possible and, in fact, necessary when people work together for a common purpose. But he had cut her off imperiously, assuming her ignorant of his business, about which he, of course, had thorough knowledge. Later, however, he did, take steps to get better acquainted with his workers, going as far as to befriend them and actually take an interest in their lives, as he had done with Nicholas Higgins. That was quite some time ago.
Margaret, herself, had gone through some change in her own thinking, partly as a result of something she witnessed on her last visit to Helstone. She had listened to some villagers argue and it appalled her that they clung so tenaciously to their prejudices and ignorance that they failed to resolve their differences. So, although Margaret still believed in goodwill, she also realized that bringing people together, especially those on opposite sides, was sometimes nearly impossible and might even be futile. It did gratify her that John's perception of the relationship between masters and hands was closer to her own, but her pleasure was subdued by the uncertainties and the complexity of the task he had taken on.
She smiled and very simply said, "I am glad."
"I can believe it. You showed me what was possible when you coaxed Higgins to talk to me. It is true I did not believe him at first, but I felt compelled to inquire about him when he said a woman persuaded him to come to me. We later developed something like a friendship that we have both been learning from."
"Well, I am vain enough to flatter myself that I helped by challenging what you believed in but, in fact, you have a natural compassion in you that I think I merely helped awaken."
"You are too generous. I was hard on my workers and did not care about their lives outside of the mill. My main concern had been to run the business profitably and efficiently." He grasped her hand and squeezed it endearingly. "The truth is I fell deeply, irrevocably in love with you and wanted to make you think well of me."
Margaret paused briefly in her step and reached up to kiss him. "You succeeded rather well." They resumed their walk and a little later, she added, "No matter how it happened, I believe what you are doing now comes from your inh
erent kindhearted nature and I sincerely wish you well."
John lifted her hand and pressed it to his lips. "I encourage you to think that way but, in fact, if what I do prevents or postpones strikes, there is good business sense in that."
They walked for some distance, occasionally talking about the early signs of fall that had begun to touch everything that was alive on the park. Margaret, with eyes alert to color and changes in nature, saw it first in the brown curling petals on rare, usually bright-hued meadow flowers that could still thrive in the smoky gloom. It was late summer, still warm but humid, and trees had started shedding their leaves, now turning golden or a deep red orange, many already strewn on the path they had chosen to take. Palpable moisture hung in the air, cooling their skin with every gust of the late afternoon breeze that was steadily gathering strength. The days had grown shorter and after some time of ambling along the top of the hill, they were surprised to see that evening was descending on them. Margaret gathered her shawl closer around her and they turned back for home.
As they walked down the hill, she said, "I hope I did not take you away from some pressing work you had to do at the mill."
"No. I needed a break from this morning's hectic schedule."
"How soon do you anticipate reopening?"
"In just a few weeks, actually, if everything proceeds as planned."
She nodded and after a short thoughtful pause, asked, "You said you want masters, hands, and overseers talking to each other. What does the reconstruction have to do with that?"
"Some of the men have actually started working, not at the mill but in that building behind the mill. A couple of months before you left for London, we had turned it into a dining hall where workers could get a cheap hot meal. Mary worked there for some time as one of the cooks. We're expanding the place and when the men are done, some of the women will come to make the place more convivial. I want to make it inviting for everyone—workers, supervisors, and masters. In those Parisian cafés, I saw how a place for eating and drinking could bring people together and encourage lively conversations even when they disagreed. Perhaps, the dining hall could do something similar and become a meeting place. It will serve lunch and an early dinner but it will also be open and have big pot of tea on the hearth all day to which the workers can help themselves."