“Well, I suppose there is hope of finding some culture and society in Milton after all. I am glad of it,” her mother replied, her shoulders relaxing a little. Behind her, Dixon disagreed with the sentiment, shaking her head in silent dismay.
“How old is Mr. Thornton? What does he look like?” Mrs. Hale continued, much to Margaret’s discomfiture.
“I should say about thirty. A very commanding stature, a tall frame, not ungainly. Dark hair and a serious mien. Although a very pleasant smile,” Mr. Hale offered, and then looked to Margaret.
“He was very plainly dressed, but that would suit his work, I suppose. His presence has a power—one can feel his strong intentions. He would not be a man to trifle with, I imagine. Although he was very kind to us, as papa said.”
“And Mr. Thornton will be my first student, as he is eager to learn the classics,” Mr. Hale said, beaming at his wife.
“Well then, I suppose there is something to be said of this class of manufacturers,” she returned with cautious approval.
At the close of the evening in the Thornton house, family and staff gathered round to listen to the mistress of the house read a few passages from the Bible. After the gathered servantsdeparted for bed, Mr. Thornton remained, walking back and forth in the dark shadows of the room.
“What can you be pondering, John? Is there any unfortunate news?” his mother asked, watching him warily.
Her question stopped his pacing.Could she see it?he wondered. Of course, she would have seen how occupied his thoughts were. He knew not how to tell her, or whether he should say anything at all. But he did not know how to contain the magnitude of what had happened entirely to himself.
“Mr. Hale, the vicar from the South, arrived in town today,” he began.
Mrs. Thornton’s lips tightened into a thin line. “I wish Mr. Bell would not involve you in such extraneous affairs. Your attention should be focused on more important things!”
Mr. Thornton let out a silent sigh. “As you know, I find Mr. Hale’s case worthy enough to lend my help if I am able. Besides, he is not alone; he has a wife and daughter he must care for. His daughter accompanied him today…here, to Milton.” He staggered again that she had come straight to him.
“A daughter? Surely he would not have brought a child,” his mother chided.
“She’s a young lady, mother. Not a child,” he replied, turning away to hide any hint his face might reveal of his feelings.
His mother’s gaze sharpened at his tone. “Be careful, John. A country girl from the South may be looking for a rich husband to give her a life of ease.”
He turned to her with a pained expression. “She has not come to Milton for that. It is her father that….” He stopped speaking at the sight of his mother’s penetrating look. He hung his head for a moment, letting a long breath out, and then paced to the fireplace to escape her gaze.
“Do you remember the ball I attended in London the summer of the year past?” he began. “I told you about a girl that I thought…differed from the rest.”
“Yes,” she answered with feigned disinterest, her hands stilled from her needlework.
“She was from Hampshire; her father was a vicar.” He looked up to catch his mother’s confused face. “She is here, Mother. Mr. Hale’s daughter is the girl. She has come to Milton.” A smile broke across his face at this declaration.
Her stomach clenched to see his boyish grin. She was speechless, for she had convinced herself that this day would never come—that her son was above being caught in any girl’s web of attraction. It had not happened in the many years thus far. But now….
His mother’s silence gave him more confidence. Walking up behind her, he laid his hands on the back of her chair. Only the ticking of the clock on the mantel could be heard.
“I only tell you this…” His voice was low and earnest. She must know something of what may come to pass. “I believe it right to tell you of my interest in Miss Hale,” he breathed. Never would she know what he had already made plain to Miss Hale that very afternoon!
“Interest? You hardly know her!” Mrs. Thornton retorted, surprised at her own vehement response.
Mr. Thornton sighed inwardly and left his mother’s side to walk to the windows. He stared out at the dark forms barely visible in the clouded moonlight. He could not explain anything more to his mother. He hardly knew himself what had moved him to speak to Miss Hale today as he had.
But it was done, and he would do what he could to keep himself in favor with her.
“In any regard,” he said, breaking the silence. “The Hales will be new to town, in a place unfamiliar to them. And they know no one.”
He approached his mother again. “Once they are settled, I should like you to call on Mrs. Hale and her daughter.”
“I?” she countered, aghast at his request.
“Yes, and Fanny as well. As I said, they will be in need of good company.”
“I should hardly know what we will discuss. People from the South live entirely different lives than those of us in town.”
