Margaret of the North (58 page)

After the last failure of
Marlborough Mills, John reacted with trepidation to all the general strikes
over which he had no control.  When one threatened to erupt a year after he reopened,
he took Henry Lennox's advice and invested money in banking, metals, and new
chemicals.  It was the best advice Henry ever gave him; John never had to
contend with the threat of another financial collapse.  The Thorntons fortune
never grew, however, as much as that of Fanny and Watson.  They used a
substantial part of it to expand the medical clinic and the school for children
around the premises of the mill, and continued to send older children from the
mill to boarding schools.  Their efforts received their first reward when
Thomas Boucher, with a degree in medicine, returned to Milton years later and
took over the clinic full-time after Dr. Hartley returned to America with his
wife and children.

A decade after the mill reopened,
John added a special division to the mill, spurred on by the invention of new
dyes a few years earlier.  It produced high-end fabrics woven with exclusive
designs.  He got the idea for the fabrics from having seen some of Margaret's
paintings and wondering how they would look on cotton the mill fabricated. 
Taking one of her paintings of flowers, he asked if she could simplify it and
redesign it into a repetitive pattern.  He did not tell her exactly what he
intended to do with it.  When she presented him with a design he thought would
work, he took it to the mill to see if it could be woven into or imprinted on a
fabric.  It took several trials stretched over a few weeks before he saw a
piece he thought was good enough to put on the market.  He settled for a
printed design with colors that resisted fading.  Only then did he take a
sample home to show Margaret and to tell her of his intention to sell the
fabric with her design on it.  The mill, at first, produced a small amount and
it sold so well that they had to produce a larger batch.

Later, he asked Margaret for more
designs and after two years, he felt prepared to form a new division using
original designs that she created.  The fabrics were produced only in small
batches and sold for higher prices.  Profits from this division, however, were
small, attenuated by the costs of special dyes and the many samples needed to
come up with the right colors and fabrics that had no flaws.  Still, the
division became the more rewarding part of the business to John for the new
directions it opened up in textile manufacturing and the creativity it inspired
in his wife. Finally, Margaret found a way to get directly involved in the
manufacture of cotton.

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

Margaret and Elise sat in the
conservatory having tea in the black attire they wore to the funeral.  Everyone
who came to the funeral had left and the house was finally quiet.  Now 19,
Elise was home from school for a few days.  Neither she nor her mother had
appetite for food or drink just then.  Dixon, grown slow and feeble but still
directing the running of the house, insisted on serving them, enticing them
with Elise's favorite accompaniments of berries, cream, and freshly-baked
scones and arguing that tea would occupy them, out of habit, and help take
their minds away from the events of the last few days.

After the funeral, John took it
for granted that Elise would go with him to the mill house.  They needed to
take a quick look through it and ascertain that it had been properly secured
until they could go through all of Mrs. Thornton's possessions and dispose of
them as she had instructed.  But Elise, looking mournful, declined to go,
saying, "I do not think I could endure seeing the house without grandmama
in it."

Johnny, the oldest son,
protested, "But you know the house better than any of us.  We all knew she
was closest to you.  You owe her."

"Johnny, let your sister
be," their father admonished and placing an arm around Elise's shoulder,
he said, "Of course, you need not come.  Maybe, next time, you will be
ready.  I am sure any or all these three would come and help."

The three younger children did
indeed prefer to be busy rather than sit around the house, mourning, and they
went with John to the house, leaving Margaret and Elise at home.

After a quarter hour of silence
sipping tea, nibbling at a scone and eating one tiny berry at a time, Elise,
observed, "Grandmother did not really have too many friends, did she? 
Everyone that was there was either Papa's business colleague or your
friend."

"I do not think it would
have bothered her in the least if we were the only ones there.  Hannah was an
island unto herself and cared only about her children and grandchildren towards
whom she was fiercely protective."

"I believe she lived a good
long life although she never thought she would outlive her own daughter."

"No, parents always assume
they will die before their children."

They lapsed into silence again,
sipping their tea for a few more minutes.  "I think grandmama started her
decline after Aunt Fanny died."  Elise stopped, unwilling to complete the
thought that crossed her mind.  Instead, she said, "I am relieved to be
going back to the university in two days.  I will be too busy at school to miss
her too much."  Her voice broke and she bit her lips to choke down a sob. 
She dropped her face on her hands.

Margaret reached over and stroked
her daughter's arm in sympathy.  Elise, Mrs. Thornton's first grandchild turned
out to be her favorite.  Margaret thought that, perhaps, it was because Elise
was around at just the right time when—finally accepting that she was cut off
from the mill—Mrs. Thornton was ready to shift her focus to a new purpose. 
Little Elise, trusting and gregarious, was eager to receive and return the
affection which Mrs. Thornton was ready to give her.  She had been captivated
by Elise's large expressive eyes and impressed by her alert and curious mind. 
Molding Elise to her way of thinking and her ideal of a daughter became her new
focus.  Over the years, the two formed a special bond, one similar to that between
Mrs. Thornton and John and as in that case, her devotion to Elise was
single-minded.  To her, Elise could do no wrong.  Mrs. Thornton developed a
fondness for all her grandchildren, more from the belief that it was inevitable
among those who shared flesh and blood, than from an attachment borne out of
frequent and close interactions.  None was as compelling as her affection for
Elise.

Unhappily for Mrs. Thornton,
Elise was also her mother's child and, asserting her independence of mind when
she was old enough to notice and to care, she sided with her parents on matters
pertaining to the mill.  At 17, she was eager to leave home to study at a
university for women.  Mrs. Thornton had, by then, lived long enough with her
son's "radical" ideas that she had gotten used to them and no longer
reacted with the same vehemence with which she protested them during the first
two or three years.  But she continued to believe that higher education was a
waste of time for Milton men and particularly so for women.  Still, she
accepted Elise's views and ambition with equanimity, albeit with a melancholy
lost on the young woman, who was confident of her grandmother's unconditional
acceptance and oriented in her thoughts and desires to the promise the future
held for her.

Elise, a little calmer, dabbed
her eyes and smiled tremulously at her mother.  "Why did you not go with
Papa to grandmother's house?"

"I could not leave you all
alone here by yourself, could I?"

"I can take care of
myself."  Elise asserted, somewhat annoyed at the implication in her
mother's answer.

"I know you can but grief at
losing someone you care about can sneak up on you in ways you never
imagine."

"Papa seemed to handle it
well enough.  He did not shed a single tear.  I suppose he felt he should not
and stood in front of the coffin as rigid as a stone, his jaw clenched the
whole time.  How could men do that?"

"Your father has been
mourning and, believe it or not, he did cry but, alone, with me in our
bedroom."  Margaret could not mask the hurt she felt at her daughter's
remark.  "It might not have been obvious to you but your father and Hannah
had a relationship as special as yours was with her, probably more so because
of their shared sufferings and triumphs.  The past month has been some of the
saddest he has been through."

"I am sorry, Mama.  I meant
no disrespect.  But this is so hard, so painful."  Elise's voice quivered
with the struggle to remain composed.

"I know," Margaret
leaned forward, touched her cheek affectionately and squeezed her hand.

They sat in silence for many
minutes, both deep in thought, until Elise spoke again.  "I remember
grandmother telling me in the middle of reading me a book that you had cast a
spell on Papa.  She probably meant to be funny but I was then about five or six,
enchanted but also scared by fairies and spells so I never forgot her remark. 
I would recall it across the years every time she spoke of the changes Papa
made at the mill after he married you.  I could sense she disapproved and,
later when I was older, I suspected she blamed the changes on the spell you
cast on him."

Margaret was flabbergasted but
was even more startled at what Elise said next.  "She was right, you know,
about Papa and you but she only saw part of it.  When I was growing up, I
sometimes felt excluded when I saw you and Papa so wrapped up in each other as
if there were just the two of you in the room.  As I grew older, whenever that
happened, I wanted to shout at you just so I knew you knew I was there."

Elise glanced at her mother whose
unflinching gaze was fixed on her anxiously, her brow knitted, and her mouth
open, as if she just sucked in her breath.  "Don't get me wrong.  I know
that you and Papa love me very much.  You have both been wonderful to all four
of us—irritating on many occasions but, generally, I don't think we could have
asked for better parents."

The concern in Margaret's eyes
faded a little but this confession from her daughter was so unexpected that it
left her speechless, uncertain what to make of it.  After another long moment
of silence, Elise asked, "What have you two decided to do with grandmama's
belongings?"

"It seems that she had
written instructions just after Fanny died on what to do with them and, as you
know, last Christmas, she gave you the most precious possessions she had that
she had not given your Aunt Fanny at her marriage."

"Yes, as if she knew that
she will not see me again."  Elise's voice quivered once more as she
spoke.

When Mrs. Thornton fell seriously
ill, John and Margaret insisted on her being cared for in their home.  Jane
came to attend to Mrs. Thornton and the two other servants were sent off on
vacation with pay until they were called back.  The mill house had remained
empty since.  Mrs. Thornton deteriorated fast and passed away within a month of
falling ill.  Elise, at school at that time, had last seen her grandmother
alive the past Christmas.

"I feel guilty about some
things grandmama gave me.  Her tastes in jewelry and décor are not exactly mine
and, yet, I feel I must pay homage to her by using them."  She looked
expectantly at her mother.

Margaret nodded without
answering, reluctant to tell her daughter what to do.  Elise would have to
consult her own conscience on such matters.

"Do you suppose I should
have gone to her house with Papa?  I would not be of help to him there, I know
I would start crying."  Elise paused, on the brink of tears.  "But
maybe I should have gone because I was not here when she was suffering.  I
should have been here when she died."  Elise burst out crying, uncontrollably.

"Her condition deteriorated
so fast even the doctors could not tell," Margaret replied, holding her
daughter in her arms.  She stroked her back tenderly, wordlessly while Elise
let all the tears flow that she had choked back in the past few days.  It took
her a long time to calm down.

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

That night, as John climbed into
bed, he handed Margaret a package while she sat on the bed, reading a book. 
"We found this in mother's wardrobe.  It is addressed to you.  She never
mentioned it in her instructions regarding her possessions.  We would have
missed it but for your little daughter's sharp eye and fascination with
mysterious boxes."

"When Elise was learning to
talk, Hannah invented that game of "What is in the box?"  Elise
enjoyed it so much and it apparently worked so well for her that grandmama used
it with the other children.  But Cristina took to it the most."  Margaret
remarked as, both puzzled and curious, she put her book aside and took the
package.  She laid it on her lap and felt reluctant to open it.

From the time Mrs. Thornton
returned after several months in London for Fanny's confinement, she and
Margaret grew to be civil and even comfortable enough with each other that they
could sit all alone in the drawing room together, going about their tasks in
tranquility, for an appreciable length of time.  They often did not talk but
seemed content to simply be in the same room, preoccupied with their own work. 
Since Mrs. Thornton's return, neither she nor Margaret ever alluded to their
encounters in the drawing room or the studio and Margaret thought that Mrs.
Thornton actually took pains to be friendly towards her.