Chapter 15. Alice's Evidence

Immediately after her shattering encounter with Mr. Thornton, Meg retreated to the kitchen where she attempted to read a book. In reality, she remained out of sight until Mr. Thornton finished his lesson and left their house. He had made it very clear he had no wish to speak to or deal with her, and she was determined to honor his wish to the extent that she could. She felt hot with shame that he should think so poorly of her, but a small spirit of rebellion was rising in her as well. She kept hearing his sharp words over and over again: the risk you're taking being so indiscreet, you must imagine what I think, any foolish passion on my part is entirely over.

If he believed the worst, she thought angrily, then little she said or did beyond betraying Fred's confidence would satisfy him. She would try to put her "foolish passion" for him aside and get on with her life-whatever that meant. She had cried far too much over this incident; it was time to consider what to do next.

Meg had accomplished what she had been sent to Milton to do, as far as she knew. Mr. Thornton had survived the riot, as had Nicholas Higgins and the other rioters. The only fatalities (besides Mrs. Hale who had been beyond recovery when she arrived) had been Bessy and Boucher and his wife. Bessy's illness had progressed too far for any treatment Meg might have devised to stem the tide; and Doctor Donaldson had told her that Mrs. Boucher was so extremely ill that she would not have survived for long, strike or no strike. Boucher had low spirits as a result of the strike and the shunning he had endured from the union members afterwards; upon his wife's death, any desire to live left him entirely. Meg did not know what she could have done to save or prolong his life.

Although her mission had been successful, Meg felt more tied to Milton than ever before. She had become attached to her work at the clinic, and had become close friends with Doctor Donaldson, Nicholas, and Mary. Above all, she could not leave Mr. Hale. He was lost without his wife and son, and clung to Meg with a pathetic bewilderment. For her part, she helped him with his books and studies, and made him take walks with her on the hillsides above Milton to exercise his body and enjoy some fresh air. On the days he had students in for lessons, Meg would slip away to the clinic for several hours; however, she did not stay for very long. Her father fretted if she were gone for any extended amount of time.

********

One morning soon after her shattering encounter with Mr. Thornton, as Meg tidied her father's study, Mr. Hale came in with a letter in his hand and a relieved expression upon his face.

"This letter is from Fred," he exclaimed. "He is safe in Cadiz."

Meg dropped her book and rushed forward to clasp her father in her arms. "Thank God!" she cried.

They stood in each other's embrace for a moment, until Dixon came bustling in, having heard Meg's cry and fearing the worst. When Meg blurted out the good news, the faithful servant began to cry tears of relief. For several moments more, all three were quiet, keeping counsel with their own thoughts.

Finally, Dixon exclaimed, "It is time we had some good news for a change! I believe I will make all of us a cup of tea!" With that determined proclamation, she descended to the kitchen to tend the kettle and prepare the tea tray.

Mr. Hale looked thoughtfully at Meg. He urged her to take a seat before the fire. Settling himself next to her, he slowly sat down and took her lax hands in his clasp.

"Meg, I have a question to ask you," he asked quietly. "Have you done anything to vex Mr. Thornton?"

Meg looked at him guiltily and nodded her head, unable to speak.

"I thought as much. He has not come to the house as much, and has asked if I would consider coming to Marlborough Mills for a time to hold our lessons." Mr. Hale looked thoughtful. "For a time, I believed that he had feelings for you, but something has happened to change that. Will you not confide in me?"

Meg poured the entire story out into his lap-of the proposal and her refusal, of the scene at the train station and what Mr. Thornton believed, of Leonards' death and Meg's role in that death, and of Mr. Thornton's closure of the case. Mr. Hale listened carefully, saying nothing.

When she was finished, he offered her his handkerchief and sat back, deep in thought. At length, he said, "My dear child, what you have had to endure. Why did you not tell me of what transpired at the train station?"

Meg gulped and said, "You were so stricken by Mother's death, I could not bring myself to burden you with my own troubles." She gazed up at him and asked, "Do you think I should go to Mr. Thornton and tell him that Fred was my brother?"

Mr. Hale shook his head. "No, unfortunately, I do not. Although Fred may be safe in Cadiz, we should not make this general knowledge. If it should be known that Fred had been here, we might be called to account. I would think that Mr. Thornton, as a magistrate, would have to report this incident."

"He did not open the inquiry into Leonards' death," Meg pointed out in mild rebellion.

"True, but Leonards was a scoundrel and a drunk, according to talk in Milton, and his death was accidental no matter the extenuating circumstances. Fred is a mutineer wanted by the Royal Navy, with a large sum on his head." Mr. Hale tugged on a button on the sleeve of his coat. "It is a very different situation."

He sighed heavily before he spoke again. "So, Mr. Thornton asked you to marry him, and you turned him down. I am very sorry that any action of yours wounded him, but as long as you did what your heart told you to do, Margaret, and treated him with honesty and respect, you have nothing for which to reproach yourself." He stood and kissed her tenderly on the forehead before leaving the room.

But I did not tell him the truth, Meg thought desperately. I told him what I had to tell him so that I might leave Milton expeditiously. No matter that I've managed to break my own heart over this whole episode. Margaret Hale, she wondered yet again, where are you? Are you living in my own time-does Gran think that you are me? Or did you disappear?

It was her day to work at the clinic. Her father was happily holed up in his study with his papers and books, so Meg felt she could spend an afternoon there in good conscience. She had sadly neglected her nursing work over the past several months, but Doctor Donaldson understood. He told her that her father must come first. Once Mr. Hale adjusted to his new circumstances and began to feel easier on his own, Meg could return to her former schedule at the clinic.

"Dixon," Meg called up the stairs as she buttoned her coat, "I am going to the clinic, and from there to see Nicholas and Mary. I shall return in time for supper."

"Miss Meg," Dixon called as she came puffing down the stairs, "if you are going to visit Mary today, would you take her this basket of groceries? I know the family is having a hard time making ends meet, what with all of the Boucher children living there. I bought a few things for their supper." She disappeared down the steps to the kitchen, returning a few moments later with a good-sized basket.

"How kind of you, Dixon," Meg exclaimed as she took the basket and hooked it over her arm. "I daresay I should have thought of it."

"And haven't you had enough to worry about, with that nasty inspector and all?" Dixon retorted. "Please give Mary my best, and tell her that I miss her."

Meg kissed Dixon's cheek affectionately, and stepped briskly into the street.

Dixon watched her from the doorway, an affectionate expression softening her face. "What would we do without you, miss? I would hate to think about it," she murmured before reapplying herself with vigor to the dust in the upstairs rooms.

********

Doctor Donaldson stood in the doorway of an examining room, watching Meg's sad attempt to sew a large tear in one of the bed sheets. "I hope no one ever sees you sew like that, Meg," he remarked in amusement. "They would know in an instant that you are not a woman from this time period. No mother would let her daughter come out of pinafores if she could not sew a neater stitch than that."

Exasperated, Meg stuck the threaded needle into the sheet and threw the fabric onto a chair next to her. "I don't know how women of this period stand it. So much idleness! Their hours are filled with silly activities-they have nothing to fill their minds or their hands besides overseeing the servants and drinking tea until it comes out of their ears. If it weren't for my work in this clinic, I would have to retreat to the attic twice a day to scream," she remarked wryly.

"Have you given any thought to going back to your time period?" Doctor Donaldson asked.

"It is all I think about lately. I do not know what else I am to do in Milton." She shrugged her shoulders. "I worry about what Gran has done in the time I have been gone, and what she must think. The hospital has probably given my position to someone else, and as for medical school-I am certain they believe I have changed my mind." She sighed heavily. "I did so want to be a doctor...." Her voice trailed off longingly.

"Why can't you be a doctor in this time?" Doctor Donaldson asked. "It is true that it would be more difficult, but I find it hard to believe that the world has changed so much in sixty years that it would not be just as difficult for you to do so in your own time."

"What do you mean, her own time?" a voice asked from the doorway. Meg and Doctor Donaldson started as Mr. Thornton walked slowly into the examining room. He always manages to appear at the most inopportune times, Meg thought with a tinge of fear. How much has he heard?

"Mr. Thornton, how are you?" Doctor Donaldson asked quickly, coming forward to greet his visitor. "What can I do for you today?"

"Fanny asked me to pick up the powders that you promised her," Mr. Thornton said gravely. "She said you had promised to prescribe something to help with her headaches."

"So I did," the doctor said agreeably. "Wait one moment, and I will package several doses for you." He stepped from the room, leaving Meg to deal with Mr. Thornton.

"What did he mean by saying you are out of your own time?" Mr. Thornton asked again, his curiosity overcoming his reserve. As he had entered the clinic, he had heard Meg's clear voice wafting down the hallway, and had walked stealthily down the corridor, the better to hear what she was telling Doctor Donaldson. He thought that she might confide in the doctor the truth concerning that night at the Outwood Station. Instead, he had overheard her strange comment about being out of time.

Meg scrambled for an answer. "I meant that I feel as if I don't belong in this place or time. Everything that I do seems to shock or offend the good people of Milton. I was explaining to Doctor Donaldson that I would like to study to be a doctor, but that seems an insupportable goal for a woman of our time."

Mr. Thornton looked taken aback. "Why would a young gentlewoman want to be a doctor?"

Meg replied abruptly, "Because I must do something, and my talents lie that way. I cannot be a decorative young woman like Fanny, or a lady of refinement and womanly arts like Miss Latimer. I must have some life's work to give my hours and days purpose. I want to use my intelligence and the gifts I have been given to help others, not attend tea parties or dances. It is precisely that attitude that makes me appear so much out of my time." She slumped against the examination table in discouragement, and added absentmindedly, "None of my skills are maidenly."

Mr. Thornton stared at her. In truth, Fanny had not asked him to retrieve her powders; she had been in the process of asking a housemaid to do so when Mr. Thornton had overheard and offered to step around to the clinic. He had felt an overwhelming urge to see Miss Hale again, given his strange dream of the previous night.

In his dream, he had come home late from the mill after another discouraging review of the ledgers. Business had suffered because of the strike, and orders from customers had not rebounded as he had hoped.

His footsteps were heavy as he entered his house and mounted the stairs to the dining room, where he knew his Mother awaited him. He could see her silhouette from behind, seated on the settee.

But when he moved around to face her, it was not his mother he found but Miss Hale.

She was reading a book, and had her feet pulled up under her in a comfortable and beguiling position. She looked up at him in pleased surprise and set the book aside as she smiled radiantly.

"So you are home at last!" she exclaimed happily, springing up to embrace and kiss him softly. His arms seemed to rise of their own volition and clasp her to him; he felt her soft curves pressed against him, and the weight of her head as it came to rest upon his shoulder.

"I had begun to despair of you, and thought you might plan to spend the night in your office!" she teased him gently, and unthinkingly he pulled her closer, and pressed his lips ardently to hers once more.

After a few sweet moments, she stepped out of his arms and moved toward the sideboard. She glanced over her shoulder as she poured a glass of port. "I have put the evening paper in your chair, and I will go tell Cook to set dinner back a half an hour so you may have time to read the paper before dinner."

He swallowed and said, "Miss Hale, what brings you here? Are you visiting us this evening?"

She laughed at him, and a perplexed line formed between her eyes. "Are you funning me, John? You know very well that I live here."

"Live here?" he asked dazedly.

"Yes, live here!" she repeated impatiently. "Where else would you expect your wife to live?"

He had awoken with a start, and felt immediate regret to leave such a wondrous fantasy. Lying in bed, he could still feel the warmth of her body pressed against him and the sweet intoxication of her kiss. It was this memory that led him to volunteer to run his sister's errand. Looking at her now, as she leaned against the examination table, he felt a wave of desire pass through him, and he longed to pull her into his arms and bring his dream to reality. This spurt of desire was quickly followed by a cold fury that, in spite of all he knew of her, he desired her still.

Angry with himself for this weakness and determined to quash it, he said in a sharp tone, "Yes, you do seem to lack the accomplishments of a gentlewoman, Miss Hale, and I doubt whether you will ever fit in here. Perhaps it was a mistake for your family to come to Milton. God knows I have wished lately that you had never come."

He wished the words unsaid a moment later when he saw the look of shock and sorrow flood over her features. She pushed convulsively away from the examination table and, moving swiftly to the doorway, called out hurriedly, "It is time for me to go, Doctor Donaldson, but I shall come again tomorrow."

Without waiting for his response, she snatched her coat from a hook on the door, and retrieved her basket. Without looking at Mr. Thornton, she said in a toneless voice, "Good day, sir." He thought he saw tears in her eyes as she moved quickly past him. He stood silently, unable to reply and cursed himself for his unkindness.

He stepped into the hallway and watched her struggle to don her coat, as he struggled to find something to say. Before he could step forward to help her, she jammed her arms through both sleeves, snatched the door open, and whisked through, slamming it behind her. The sound of the door slamming reverberated throughout the clinic.

"What did you say to upset Miss Hale, Mr. Thornton?" Doctor Donaldson asked in a quiet voice.

Turning around, Mr. Thornton saw that the doctor stood directly behind him, a grim expression on his face. "That girl has been through hell," Doctor Donaldson continued in an angry voice. "She has lost her mother and her friend, managed the burial of three acquaintances in Princeton, and dealt with the victims of a fire, all in the space of several months. She does not need your implacable resentment; she needs your understanding and friendship. Did she not do everything she could to save you from the rioters at your mill?" he demanded.

Mr. Thornton felt a deep sense of shame. "Yes, she did," he admitted.

Doctor Donaldson pinned him with a sharp gaze. "You have known her over a year now, Mr. Thornton. Ask yourself this: could this same woman have acted as you believe she did that night at the train station? Or could there be another explanation behind her actions?" He handed Mr. Thornton the packets of headache powders, nodded curtly, and walked down the hall to his office.

Mr. Thornton stood motionless, deep in uneasy thought. Miss Hale had been untruthful, he knew, but she had attempted to explain the rationale behind her untruthfulness. Rather than attempting to understand or trust her, he had refused to give credence to her explanation. He knew that if he had been entrusted with a confidence, he would have moved heaven and earth to keep that confidence as a sign of honor and a proof of his word. Why could he not attribute the same honorable motives to Miss Hale? He deeply regretted his speech to her.

********

It took Meg the entire long walk from the clinic to the Princeton area to calm herself. She wondered why she let Mr. Thornton upset her to the degree that he did. He was pigheaded and stubborn, and had obviously made up his mind that she was beyond redemption. Why should she care what he thought of her? The problem was, it wounded her deeply to think that he believed she was of questionable morals and dishonest to boot.

When she reached the Higgins' residence, she rapped smartly on the door. Nicholas answered and broke into a weary smile at the sight of her. "Well, Meg, I am glad to see you. Do come in." He held the door wide and ushered her into the room. As Meg entered, Mary looked up and smiled from the bed where she was reading a story to several of the Boucher children. Tommy sat at the table, struggling his way through his primer.

"How are you, Nicholas?" Meg asked solicitously, seating herself next to Tommy and affectionately ruffling his hair.

"Well enough," he responded soberly, "given I can't find permanent work at any mill in Milton." He smiled at her. "Not that I'm not grateful for the work at the clinic, but it is not enough hours to suit me or to earn the wages I need."

"None of the masters will offer you a job?" Meg asked anxiously.

Higgins shook his head. "Nary a one. Hamper told me to get off his property, and Slickson would not even give me the time of day." He sighed. "I must do something soon, Meg, otherwise these children will starve."

"Your family will never starve while I'm around, Nicholas," Meg said firmly. "I could ask Doctor Donaldson to increase your hours at the clinic, but the wages would still not be enough to support your expanded family."

They sat together in a companionable silence until Meg asked suddenly, "Nicholas, have you asked Mr. Thornton for work?"

Higgins grimaced. "He is worse than the others, Meg. I doubt he'd offer me a job."

She leaned forward earnestly. "Ask him, Nicholas. He has a kind heart, and might just give you work."

Higgins shrugged. "I'll think on it," he responded shortly.