Margaret of the North (27 page)

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.

As the two of them were working
at the same table, Margaret asked, "Are you interested in learning to read
and write, Annie?"

"I would like to, ma'am, but
I have no time and even if I did, there is no one to teach me."

"But would you take the time
after work if there is someone who can teach you?"

"After work, I have to make
dinner and clean up.  I am the oldest and my mother is too sick to take care of
my brothers and sisters.  My younger sisters help but they are too young yet
and get more tired than me after working in the mills."

"I see."

A little later, Margaret
continued, "How about your brothers and sisters?  Would any of them like
to learn?"

"I don't know, ma'am.  The
youngest one is curious like me and she may want to, if there is someone to
teach her."

Margaret nodded her head and said
no more.

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

When the dining hall was finished
a few days later, Margaret could no longer delay making good on her promise to
Mrs. Thornton.  She accompanied the older woman as she discharged her daily
chores—meeting with the household staff, dealing with unforeseen events that
often happened during the day, scheduling, instructing, and following up on
completed tasks.  For the most part, Margaret observed, nodded, and said
little.  After a week of what, in her mind, was an apprenticeship in the job of
running this particular household, she took over Mrs. Thornton's former
duties.  They were now properly hers forever.  It was, as she had surmised, a
fairly uncomplicated process.  The staff knew what they needed to do and Dixon,
more experienced and more resourceful than any of the other servants, made
decisions in most unanticipated matters without bothering her mistress.

Margaret had run the household
without the morning meetings before Mrs. Thornton returned.  She did not feel
she really needed them but she decided to continue the practice, first, as part
of the routine that the servants were used to and, second, as a way to show
Mrs. Thornton that she was doing what was expected of her.  The conduct of
these meetings did inevitably change, however.  With the young Mrs. Thornton's
lively open manner and readiness to praise their work, the servants were more
relaxed and found the meetings more pleasant.  After the daily chores were
dealt with, she often asked how they were doing otherwise.  If someone needed
to talk about some special problem, whether related or not to their work, that
person generally found Mrs. Margaret an attentive listener, offering help
whenever she could.

Marlborough Mills reopened for
full operation on a dry but dreary day in October a little earlier than John
had anticipated.  He had originally set a date that was timed to take advantage
of the coming holidays when orders were certain to increase but he had accepted
an order that needed to be completed by a certain date.  After estimating what
needed to be done to fill the order, he thought it best to give the mill a few
days leeway before it came due. 

Weeks before, various workers
came to prepare the mill for this day: sweeping it of dust and cobwebs,
cleaning, oiling, testing, and, when necessary, repairing machines.  A couple
of days before, a small crew led by Nicholas Higgins retested and readjusted
the machinery to ensure that, for at least the early weeks of operation,
production would be efficient and uneventful.  Another crew came just the day
before to bring out bales of cotton from the warehouse that they piled on the
platform, ready for the spinning and weaving machines.

Not all hands had been hired but
John was confident that it would not take long before they were.  He hoped
gossip passed among workers that the mill had made changes to improve working
conditions would help attract more workers.  Most of those already hired were
former mill hands who had signed a petition with Nicholas Higgins declaring
their desire to return to the mill when Mr. Thornton brought it back into
operation.  Talk had circulated among cotton mill workers that Mr. Thornton was
continuing to make changes in how he ran the mill and that he was open to ideas
from workers, a radical step that most workers were skeptical of. 

Despite assurances from Nicholas
Higgins that the master was sincere in his intent, distrust of the masters was
of such long standing that workers were usually not persuaded by mere intent. 
They waited until it was translated into reality, something that only time
could show them, even in the case of this particular master who had already
instituted more modern machines and better working conditions than most mill
owners.  Still, if it came down to choosing to work for this mill or another,
Marlborough Mills was an easy choice for many for its better working
conditions.  A few who might have wavered were swayed by the new white dining
hall in the back of the mill where they heard good cheap hot mills could be
had.

By the time John placed an
announcement in the newspaper three days before the mill reopened, he had
already notified all his business colleagues and contacted all of his former
customers, visiting them personally whenever he could.  A good number of these
customers placed orders.  John hoped more of them would give him back their
business once they saw the mill filling orders as promised.  He expected some
to return if only because of seasonal high demand when merchant orders for
Christmas often exceeded the combined level of production at all the existing
mills.

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

On the day the mill opened, John
woke up much earlier than he had done of late and bounded out of bed so
abruptly that he woke Margaret up.  He turned to give her a perfunctory kiss
and announced, "This is the day!"

Without waiting for an answer, he
hurried to change.  He returned to the bedroom to see if Margaret was ready to
go down to breakfast but he was surprised to find a tray of tea, toast,
sausages and fruit waiting for him.  "I asked Dixon to prepare breakfast
early for you."

He smiled his thanks and sat
down.  But he was too restless for his usual breakfast, distractedly sipping
the tea she handed him, nibbling on the toast she had buttered for him, and
consuming in a few quick bites the sausages that he, at first, refused but
which she insisted he must eat.  Attuned to all her husband's moods and
expressions of the past months, Margaret now contended with that side of him
she had known when they first met but that had hardly been in evidence in their
few months of marriage.  She knew he was anxious that the day should pass
without a hitch and he was clearly energized for it.  His eyes shone fiercely
with purpose and anticipation as if he was poised for a fight, his lips were
compressed, the muscles in his cheeks taut and tense, and his brow wore a frown
of intense concentration.  So focused was he on his work for that day that
Margaret doubted he heard anything she said while he ate breakfast. 

He got up as soon as he finished
his tea and gave her a hasty buss on the forehead.  "I have to go."

"I know.  I will come down
with you."

He nodded absentmindedly and she followed
him as he walked briskly out the door, down the steps, and out to the vestibule
that served as entrance to the house.  She moved just as briskly behind him but
John seemed to have forgotten she was there.  He was about to bolt down the
steps when he felt a restraining hand on his arm.  He stopped and turned
towards his wife. Before he could even blink, she enclosed him in a tight
embrace, gave him a long loving kiss, and murmured a solemn "Good luck, my
love."

He gazed at her for a long
minute, silent, his mind already rehearsing his first tasks of the day.  But
his bright eyes had softened with gratitude and he walked down the steps more
calmly.  He turned around at the foot of the stairs, paused and smiled at her. 
Then, he headed towards the mill in quick, determined strides.  She muttered a
prayer as she watched him disappear into the mill.

With some trepidation, Margaret
walked slowly and thoughtfully back into the house.  She caught sight of Mrs.
Thornton standing by the large window in the drawing room and went to join her
there.  Mrs. Thornton glanced briefly at her and turned her attention back to
the courtyard.  "Well, this is the day!    I did not see John at
breakfast.  I know he is too excited to eat but you should have insisted on him
having something.  He will need it."

"Dixon brought him a full
breakfast in the bedroom."  Margaret replied simply.

"I see."  Mrs. Thornton
regarded her for an instant or two and turned back towards the window. 
"The workers have started to trickle in."  She seemed as agitated as
John but more subdued and more apprehensive.

Margaret looked down at the
courtyard.  The bustle in the mill yard was increasing steadily.  It had been
empty when John walked across it just a few minutes earlier but since then,
Williams had arrived and opened the gate fully.  Workers poured through the
gate, talking, sometimes laughing, reaching their hands out to people they had
worked with in the past.  The mill yard, forlorn for the last six months, soon
took on the air of a country fair without the hawkers and street entertainers,
its festive ambiance supplied by a mood of easy camaraderie among those who had
previously worked at the mill and were returning, thankfully, if not gladly, to
a familiar place.  Eventually, everyone seemed infected by it, chatting easily
with those standing next to them as they waited for the mill doors to open.