by EJourney
Their dinner of perfectly roasted chicken and boiled, buttered vegetables arrived, claiming their full attention, eliciting praises about how fresh and colorful the vegetables looked and how much tastier everything was. A dessert of freshly-picked berries and cream followed and as the dinner came to an end with tea, John said, "I rather like it here. Perhaps, we can get a country house here. It is not far from Milton, only four hours by train."
"You do intend to enjoy the fruits of your labor!"
"Where have you been all this time?" He replied, feigning incredulity. "Have you not noticed that my life has largely been one of pleasure and enjoyment since I married a beauty from this village? Of course, I cannot be idle like your typical landed gentry. I must work, but even in that, I get more satisfaction since she came into my life." He paused and with a merry twinkle, added "Well, I do have to keep her happy with visits to Paris and Helstone. But, I enjoy those anyway."
She smirked, "Paris? What a snob! But are you sure? I will wager, if she is a woman from these parts that her needs are simple and being with you is enough."
"Perhaps, but you do not know this lady. She is insatiable. Anyway, I would like to get her a house here if she wants it."
Turning somewhat more serious, Margaret said, "Edith suggested buying a house with us where we can all be happy together at certain times of the year but she was thinking of one at a coastal town south of here. Some place where my aunt used to lease a townhouse for the summer."
"It sounds almost like being in Cadiz but much cooler and rainier. Still, I prefer a country home here in Helstone because of what it means to you. Of course, I will seldom have long spells that I can spend away from the mill but I can come regularly for weekends and for a week every now and then."
"Well, we shall see!"
XXVI. Realization
Margaret went with John to the mill on the Monday after their return from Helstone. She wanted to see the progress of the renovation on the rooms for the medical clinic after he told her that he expected it to be completed in less than three weeks. She could not quite believe that the medical clinic was about to become a reality, ready to see patients possibly on the first week of July. It had immersed her in months of planning, coordinating, and working on tasks, both small and big, that she had never done before and she found it hard to imagine that it was actually going to come to fruition.
Margaret had been both amazed and grateful at how smooth the process had been of making the clinic happen. Everyone she had approached had been more than receptive and willingly complied with her requests for information or help. Drs. Donaldson and Hartley were the most obliging of all, professing belief in the necessity of the clinic and enthusiastically donating their expertise in planning it. Not long after Catherine was hired, Dr. Hartley started training her at their clinic and, three months later, he was certain that Catherine, an enthusiastic and apt learner, would be prepared to assist by the time the clinic opened. Meantime, Dr. Donaldson facilitated the ordering of equipment and medicines which arrived promptly and were, at the moment, temporarily stored in a locked area in the warehouse. Even Henry Lennox had given generous legal and financial advice gratis when John sought him out for his opinion on appropriate but nominal fees for the doctor's services—fees subsequently set jointly with Dr. Hartley.
At a meeting with overseers and work representatives several weeks earlier, John had announced the pending availability of medical services two afternoons a week and nursing care every workday at a clinic in the mill premises, then under construction. Shortly thereafter, Margaret painted a colorful sign that was posted at the entrance to the mill: It included projected opening date, doctor's fees, free nursing care, and hours when the doctor and the nurse would be at the clinic.
Margaret stood in front of the clinic, clutching in her arm a second sign she had painted and which she intended to place directly on the door to the clinic. It listed the doctor's name, his fees, the nurse's name, and hours of operation. She was in no hurry to put up the sign since she had all morning to ask one of the carpenters to do so. In any case, none of them was in sight. Much of the renovation that remained was inside the clinic and she was certain they were all there. For the moment, she preferred the silence in the new hallway just outside the clinic where everything looked fresh and new.
John had taken the drawing room as his office and the library as an office for an assistant he intended to hire. The clinic occupied what had been the dining and breakfast rooms and the kitchen. Margaret contemplated the door to the clinic for some minutes, initially, with much satisfaction—she relished the idea of its being there and felt proud that its existence was largely her doing. That satisfaction was soon tempered by apprehension, however, as she wondered if workers would really come to use the clinic. Despite the success of the Christmas Eve celebration, she knew that there was still much skepticism, if not distrust, among mill workers. That distrust could make them reluctant to seek services at a clinic provided by a mill owner.
By noon, Margaret had surveyed the renovation, talked to the carpenters and put up the sign. John had told her that he was going to be too busy that day and would most likely not see her at all at the mill so she had arranged for a cab to pick her up shortly after noon to take her back home.
Before she left the mill, Margaret went up to Mrs. Thornton's apartment to pay her respects, more out of a feeling of duty than of anticipation at a pleasurable visit. Although the two women no longer suffered discomfort in each other's presence and the affection between Elise and Mrs. Thornton brought them together in an unspoken bond, a cozy companionability seemed to elude them. Margaret knew that her mother-in-law had seen her come in with John. She also suspected that Mrs. Thornton had been looking at the renovation being done on the floor below her apartment and knew what the new rooms were intended for. Margaret thought it time to talk to her about it and confirm her suspicion of the opening of a medical clinic. Margaret was prepared to answer her questions sincerely, if she asked.
After the usual greetings, Mrs. Thornton invited her to stay for lunch. "It would be nice to have company for lunch. John rarely comes to have it with me. I think he schedules meetings with his workers during lunch hours at the dining hall." She could barely hide the disappointment in her voice.
The unexpected invitation surprised Margaret. It was extended casually and, she surmised, out of proper decorum because of the hour, but there was an earnestness in Mrs. Thornton's manner that she could not help reciprocating. "I would like to stay for lunch but the cab I ordered will probably be here in about ten minutes. Perhaps, next time."
"Oh? Were you intending to come back soon?"
"Actually, yes. I would like to spend more time here during the next few weeks to watch and provide some guidance to the renovation that is going on below. I know you know what it is for."
Mrs. Thornton was momentarily disconcerted at Margaret's frankness. She did know from snippets of conversation between John and Margaret that she had heard in the conservatory and she answered simply, "Yes, I do. Is there still much work to be done?"
"For the renovation of the rooms, I suppose there are only finishing touches. But equipment would have to be brought in and properly placed, medical supplies stored safely, things of that sort. I would like to come and oversee some of that work and make sure that everything is done right and the opening of the clinic occurs without any major hitches."
Although Mrs. Thornton had been curious when she asked her question, the answer she received was more than she wanted to hear for it tempted her to break her resolve not to interfere or even share her opinions on mill business. She nodded, looked away and when she turned towards Margaret again, she said simply, "Well, then, if you are not too busy, do come and have that lunch with me."
Margaret hesitated, "I do want to but I am uneasy about leaving Elise for too long and I may not be able to come to the mill as often as I would want nor stay as much as I need to. Her needs come first."
M
rs. Thornton smiled gently and, once again, proposed a solution. "Why not just bring her and Mary along to the mill? You can leave them here with me. My apartment would be a cozy place for Elise to play and rest while you are doing what you have to do at the mill."
By now, the attachment between Elise and her grandmother was obvious and still growing so Margaret was no longer as surprised at the offer as when Mrs. Thornton first proposed to help care for Elise during the week she and John visited Helstone. But she continued to be in awe of what the offer signified and was, therefore, no less grateful. She smiled warmly and replied, "That would certainly ease my mind considerably because I can come and see her here anytime I have a break in my tasks. I would not have to rush home right away. Thank you so much. I will bring her and Mary starting tomorrow. Is that all right?"
"Of course. In fact, come and have lunch with me then. Maybe, you can persuade John to come along."
Mrs. Thornton was actually quite satisfied at this arrangement. She desired, discreetly, to have a hand in molding Elise, possibly into the kind of daughter she would have wanted, one who knew and cared about her father's business as much as she did. When Elise was old enough she meant to teach her all she knew about it. But Mrs. Thornton was also grateful to have Elise at that time for another reason. Elise provided her the pleasant absorbing preoccupation she needed to distract her from the work that had been going on in the rooms below her apartment ever since her return from London. She was relieved that it was finally nearing completion but its impending opening bothered her.
Mrs. Thornton continued to believe that anything done for workers outside of directly improving working conditions were misguided favors to them—potential sources of trouble that could backfire and, maybe, even cause strikes when they raise workers' expectations unrealistically. But she no longer voiced her opinions about the mill to either John or Margaret and they never asked her. In any case, Mrs. Thornton told herself that what went on below her apartment and inside the mill was no longer her concern.
She was certain the money to pay for the clinic came from Margaret's inheritance and that meant she had no right to concern herself with the clinic. Still, she believed it was easy for Margaret to use her inheritance so freely because she came by it without having to sweat blood and tears the way she, herself, did to help her son get his mill. At such moments, Mrs. Thornton's resentment towards her daughter-in-law returned. But watching Elise at play, Mrs. Thornton would relent again, struck by how like her mother this trusting affectionate little girl was, not only in looks but also in her many gestures and expressions. She thought then that there must be a lot of Elise in Margaret. Besides, why blame Margaret solely when John most probably decided that the clinic was a worthwhile effort? He would not have gone along with it if he did not think so.
The clinic opened as scheduled, without fanfare, and marked only by signs posted on the gate to the courtyard and the doors to the mill and the dining hall. Initially, very few people came. On the first day, two women sought Catherine out with complaints about a headache for which she dispensed some medicines for free. Word of the free medicine was probably passed around because, the following day, a few more women came with the same complaints.
On the third day Dr. Hartley arrived in the afternoon to see his first patients. When he heard from Catherine what had been happening, he asked her to send in the first patient who came in with a headache. He wanted to be certain that the rash of headaches was not a sign of some common illness, either spreading all around Milton or locally. The first such patient balked—seeing the doctor meant paying some fee that she did not have. When Catherine told the doctor, he directed her to tell the patient that the first visit to the doctor was free. While this arrangement was not agreed upon between him and the Thorntons, Dr. Hartley was certain they would not object. After all, the initial plans were to provide totally free medical services. Word of the free first visit to the doctor was spread around and, on the second week, so many workers and their families asked to see him that Catherine began scheduling patients.
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The medical clinic was well underway and, to Margaret's relief, apparently bringing in patients. For a few weeks after it opened, she stayed away from the mill and spent the quiet hours she had for herself painting. When John talked about what was happening in the clinic including Dr. Hartley's declaration of free first visits, she merely nodded with a smile. Margaret was happy that her first major endeavor for the mill proceeded without a hitch but now, it was no longer in her hands and she preferred it that way. The responsibility for keeping it going rested on Dr. Hartley and Catherine.
Getting the clinic started had consumed her so much in mind and spirit that she was, for the moment, exhausted and unable to concentrate on anything but her usual daily tasks and her painting. It was quite obviously a different sort of exhaustion from that she suffered mourning all the losses she had gone through when she first lived in Milton. But it had similar effects. She needed time to take stock, to reflect, to regain some state not so much of tranquility but of being back on an even keel. This time, she had Elise to distract her, her painting to pour her feelings on to, and John to comfort her and hold her in his arms as she fell asleep.
John knew that something was going on with Margaret because the nervous energy he had seen in her during the last few weeks of work on the clinic had been replaced by a calmness in her manner, her countenance, and in her conversations. She did not talk as much and she clung to him more. He did not ask her questions but, at night, he held her close and, when he made love to her, he was more gentle and even playful.
**************
Margaret regained her usual spirit and energy in due time and her thoughts inevitably turned to her plans of a school for the children of the mill. She did not plunge into them, however, as she had done with the clinic. The school was going to be a more difficult task to realize. As it was, she had not yet found a way of persuading parents to allow children to take time out from work and come regularly to a place where they could learn to read and write.
Her mother had managed the parochial school in Helstone, where inhabitants had greater faith in their pastor and in the authority of the parish. Mrs. Hale, thus, had an easier task of telling parents to send their children to school. It helped, as well, that work in the farms was seasonal and younger children could easily walk to school upon finishing their lighter chores in the farm. With only her experience in Helstone to draw upon, it was inevitable that Margaret's first step was to visit the nearby parish, talk to the pastor and possibly seek his opinion on how to approach parents in Milton about schooling.
The pastor was not hopeful. "It is a struggle. First of all, it is hard to make parents see the need for children to learn to read and write. The few that do have no time or are too exhausted to be bothered to bring their children in."
"I see. The parish is too far for most young children to walk to by themselves."
"Yes, so you would not be surprised to learn that those, who do come, live not too far from here. But even so, many do not come regularly. I suspect that sometimes they are too weak from hunger to make that walk or muster the enthusiasm to come. In any case, how can you teach children who only come sporadically? And as you very well know, the older children have to work at the mill so, as far as literacy is concerned, they are a lost cause."
"How frustrating it must be. But, yet, you do keep it going."
"Yes, for the very few who genuinely like to learn or who believe that they need those skills to rise out of their present situations. After a while, you begin to satisfy yourself with reaching that small handful." The parson paused, looked at Margaret intently and asked, "Was your father not a parson somewhere in the south? He probably did not have to deal with this problem."
"No, his congregation was small and not quite so scattered. And he was probably one of the very few figures of authority in the village so he or my mother could meet with each family and gently cajole them to d
o what was right. But even in a small hamlet like Helstone, there are problems, although they are different from those in a large modern city like Milton." Margaret started to rise from her seat. "I must not take any more of your time. Thank you for talking so frankly with me."
The pastor nodded, rose from his seat and extended a hand to Margaret, "I am sorry I could not give you the answers you need but I will pray that you find a way to interest these parents on schooling. My advice is do not be discouraged. If you can help one or two of these children, then you would be doing them a world of good and that may be enough."
The conversation with the parson persuaded Margaret that, for the moment at least, she should focus on the one thing she was certain she could accomplish: sending Thomas Boucher to a boarding school. She returned to the mill one afternoon a couple of months after the clinic opened, finally prepared to look at what she had created there. She also intended to catch Nicholas Higgins during a break in his work to talk to him about Thomas. Nicholas needed no convincing that Thomas was better off going to school than working in the mill but he was reluctant to have someone in his family singled out for special favors by the Thorntons. Margaret assured him that, though Thomas was the first child she and John were helping, he was not likely to be the last. They meant to seek other children with potential and offer as many of them as they could the same opportunity. Thomas was going to set an example for other parents and children of what was possible to attain with further education. So long as Thomas continued to be diligent and to advance in his studies, the Thorntons intended to pay for his education until he chose some profession with which to earn his living.
Earlier that evening, Margaret sat in John's office, waiting for him to finish his work so they could all go home in a cab. She had brought Elise who was now in Mrs. Thornton's apartment with Mary. Margaret sat, relaxing for a while, enjoying her solitude, her mind wandering through the three years she had been married and how full it had been. She had given birth not only to a daughter but to a medical clinic and now she was contemplating on doing more. She thought about her parents who she knew would have been proud of what she had been doing, her father, in particular. It gratified her to find John very enthusiastic about sending Thomas to a good boarding school. He apparently had always been interested in the boy's welfare and, a few times in the past, had helped him along in his reading. She sensed in her husband a particular fondness for Thomas.