Chapter 23. Which Dreamed It?

As Meg tumbled into the parlor, she heard a dreadful crash. For one moment, she feared she had broken yet another mirror, and struggled to clear her head. I hope I never have the need to go through a mirror again, she prayed fervently.

She felt a cold wetness spread up her backside and realized she was sitting in a puddle of water. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw that she had knocked a large vase of flowers off the small table that sat beneath the mirror. The vase had shattered, water soaked the floor and carpet, and flowers were strewn about the room. She stood up carefully and began gathering the flowers in her arms when she heard a heavy tread coming up the stairs from the kitchen. Moments later, the door to the parlor was thrust open and Dixon entered, holding a poker from the kitchen fireplace, her nightcap askew on her head.

"Who is it?" the servant asked sharply. "I warn you, I'm armed."

"Dixon," Meg said softly, "It's me."

Dixon lowered the poker and stepped forward carefully. Her jaw dropped open in surprise. "Miss Meg, is that you?" The poker slipped from her fingers and clanged to the floor as Dixon stared at her. "Goodness, what are you doing here at this time of night? I thought you were on your way to Spain!" She bustled forward to hug her young mistress. Meg returned the hug, crushing the flowers between two of them so that they fell to the floor once more.

"Dear Dixon, I found that I could not go to Spain-I changed my mind at Portsmouth before the ship sailed, and arranged my return trip to Milton. My life is here," Meg replied quietly.

Dixon grunted. "That still does not explain why you have arrived in the middle of the night-gracious, miss! It must be 2:00 in the morning!" Dixon stepped away from her and surveyed the damage. She groped about and lit a lamp on the sideboard. Looking Meg over from head to toe, she frowned. "Goodness, Miss Meg, where did you get those clothes? Never tell me that is the fashion in London now!"

Meg looked down at herself and noted with surprise that she still wore the navy suit she had worn in 1920. "It-it is from Paris, Dixon," Meg explained. "Edith says it is the latest fashion."

"It looks indecent to me," Dixon sniffed, "Why, I can see your entire shape! Come, we should get you off to bed, you can tell me all about your travels in the morning." She looked expectantly about the room. "Where is your valise?"

Thinking quickly, Meg explained, "I-I left it behind at the train station. I will fetch it in the morning." Meg paused before she asked, "Dixon, what is today?"

"Pardon me, miss?" Dixon looked at her blankly.

"How long have I been gone?" Meg asked entreatingly.

"You've been away nearly two months, as you well know," Dixon exclaimed with asperity.

I will never understand how time works, Meg thought in exasperation, but she was too grateful to be back in Milton in relatively the same time period as when she left, and too overwhelmed by all that had happened to complain.

"It is time for you to go to bed-you are not quite yourself," Dixon ordered. "I will clean up this mess in the morning. Come!" she exclaimed as she picked up the lamp and led the way up the stairs. Meg found herself being hustled into the room that had been her mother's. "It's a good thing I took the liberty of moving your things into your mother's room-I thought I might have to have it ready at a moment's notice for your return. It did not seem right for you to continue to sleep in that tiny room in the attic! You are mistress of the house now, and deserve the best bedroom."

Meg was touched by Dixon's thoughtfulness, and looked about the room in delight. Her bed and furniture looked dwarfed in the larger room, but it felt welcoming nonetheless. Dixon watched Meg's pleased glance with a small, secretive smile on her face. Her girl was home again, and all would be right once more. She had been uneasy when Doctor Donaldson could not answer her questions about how long Miss Meg intended to stay in Spain, and feared she might plan on making her home there. Dixon had no desire to live in a foreign country, and was torn as to what she should do if Meg chose not to come home. Dixon was also somewhat miffed that Meg had not asked her to come along on her travels, but all was forgiven now that she was home.

She helped her young mistress to undress, and Meg watched with amusement as Dixon eyed each garment she helped her remove with distaste and scorn. I will never get to wear my lovely suit again, Meg thought wistfully. No matter-everything was perfect now that she was back where she belonged. Dixon could fuss and fret for hours and Meg would not care. She longed to run down the streets of Milton to Marlborough Mills now, but did not think it seemly to knock on the door of the manse in the dead of night. I shall wait until the morning to see him, she thought with a soaring heart, and dream of him, if I am lucky-that is, if I can get a wink of sleep!

Once Dixon tucked her into bed and closed the door behind her, Meg lay on her back with her hands folded over her chest, thinking of Clotho's last words-she must not reveal the future to others. But that does not preclude me from doing what I can to make all of our futures successful, she thought with satisfaction. Once again, she pondered on how she had jeopardized her future and Mr. Thornton's by leaving Milton, and of the great gift that the Fates had bestowed upon her by allowing her to come back to the place she belonged. All of her fears, all indecisiveness were wiped clean-her future with Mr. Thornton would be what they made it.

If I want to become a doctor, she decided, I will do so-with John's love and support and Doctor Donaldson's tutelage. What does it matter if we provide the gossips with fodder every day of our lives, as long as we are together? We will have colossal fights, she thought happily, and disagree about many things, but our love will not diminish. Ours lives will never be dull and proper, and for that I am grateful.

Sleep was a long time coming, but her thoughts were pleasant, and when she finally did sleep, it was with a smile upon her lips.

She awoke when Dixon threw back the curtains in her room the following morning, allowing the brilliant sunshine to brighten all corners of the room. "Miss Meg, time to awake," Dixon announced softly. She was surprised beyond belief when Meg, who usually woke slowly and resisted rousting, leapt from bed and gaily hugged her.

"Good morning, Dixon!" she exclaimed in a happy voice as she danced over to the window and gazed outside. "What a beautiful morning! No fog, and the sun is shining! May I have some hot water, to wash up?"

Dixon soon returned with a pitcher of hot water, and she washed and dressed carefully in the new day dress that Dixon had sewn for her in Oxford. It was made of creamy yellow cambric printed with small, blue flowers and trimmed with lace, and it nipped in at her small waist and belled out about her trim figure. She remembered Dixon's astonishment when Meg had insisted on cotton fabric for the dress; at the time, she felt it was another small link to Mr. Thornton.

She struggled into her petticoats and was pulling on the dress when Dixon entered again and buttoned her up. Dixon's face softened as she looked at her young mistress-she looked radiant today. "May I dress your hair, miss?"

"Yes, please," Meg replied promptly. She wanted to look her best today for Mr. Thornton.

Well did Dixon know this, and went to great pains to pull her hair into a knot on her head, showing off her white, flexile neck to great advantage. Small strands escaped and curled about her face and the nape of her neck, making her look quite fetching. Meg's face was flushed and her eyes were bright, and Dixon got misty-eyed looking at her-it was obvious she was in love, and Dixon had a strong notion of where she would be going once she finished her breakfast.

Meg ate her porridge quickly, and asked many questions about Nicholas and Mary, the Boucher children, and Doctor Donaldson. Dixon had been helping Mary at the lunchroom, which had become so popular with the hands that they had to increase the amount of food they cooked each day. Watching Meg carefully, she said in a concerned tone, "Mr. Thornton has been eating lunch with us the past few weeks-my goodness, I have seldom seen a man look so sad and wan."

Meg looked up, her spoon suspended. "He does not look well?" she asked anxiously.

"No, Miss Meg, he looks tired, very peaked like," Dixon replied complacently, measuring flour to do her baking.

Meg glanced at her anxiously. "Are there problems at the mill?"

"Higgins tells me all is well now with the mill, but Mr. Thornton works late hours and does not leave his office much, not even to eat. He seems to be grieving about something. It is Higgins who has forced him to come to the lunchroom."

Meg's heart plummeted. He was not well. He was working too much, and not eating properly. This was her doing, she thought with despair. Why wasn't his mother making sure he ate properly, she fretted. He obviously needed someone to care for him. Well, she thought with kindling determination, I shall be the one to look after him from now on.

Dixon saw the stricken look upon her young mistress's face and relented. 'Don't fret, Miss Meg. It isn't anything that seeing you won't cure."

Meg blushed, and Dixon laughed softly, and returned to making her dough. Meg finished her breakfast as quickly as possible, and prepared to go out for the day. She tied on a bonnet, and wrapped a shawl about her shoulders. Picking up her reticule, she opened it to retrieve her gloves and found Mr. Thornton's journal. It had come with her through the mirror. With trembling hands, she extracted the journal and opened it. It was blank-there was not a line or jot on any page. She inhaled sharply-she had changed the future-their lives were a blank slate, and the entries in the journal would be totally different, if she had anything to do with it. She laid the journal on the dresser in her bedroom, pulled on her kid gloves, and headed out for Marlborough Mills.

As she strolled along, calling greetings to people that she knew as she met them, she decided to stop by the clinic and see Doctor Donaldson-it was important to know where her finances stood, and she longed to see him. She stepped briskly around the corner to his clinic, and walked inside, closing the door with a snap so that the bell rang resoundingly.

"Just a moment," she heard him call in an irate voice, and she felt a welling of deep affection for her wonderful curmudgeon of a friend. He came down the hall, wiping his hands on a cloth, and said, "Yes, how may I...."

His voice died off as he saw who it was, and he sucked in his breath sharply. "Margaret Hale," he bellowed, "What has taken you so long?" He opened his arms and she rushed into them, hugging him tightly.

"You knew I would come back?" she asked wonderingly, as he let her go.

"I knew you would try!" he said with so much satisfaction that she had to laugh. "Come back into my office," he added, "You must tell me everything."

Meg shook her head, "And so I will-later. First, I must go to Marlborough Mills."

Doctor Donaldson gave her a contemplative look. "Tell me, Meg, why have you come back? Did you miss the clinic so much?"

Meg replied earnestly, "Yes, I missed the clinic and you and all of the people in Milton whom I care for...but if I am to be absolutely truthful, I came back for Mr. Thornton. I was wrong to go, Doctor. I love him and my place is here in Milton, with him." She gazed at him with tears in her eyes when she finished speaking.

The doctor looked extremely pleased. "O-ho, so you have come to your senses at last, have you? And I was so hoping it would be either me or my clinic that would bring you back to us."

Meg laughingly pronounced, "As I told you, working with you and the clinic were a part of my decision-not the main part, but a part nonetheless." She added in an urgent tone, "I wanted to see you because I was not sure how many of my instructions you had carried out, concerning the deeds to the houses and my money."

"I have given Higgins the deed the house you purchased for him, but have not done another thing," the doctor replied succinctly, "I wanted to wait six months to be sure you truly were not going to return in case questions arose. I worried that your aunt might come looking for you, and that she would raise a hue and cry about your going missing. I thought nothing was lost by waiting. You had purchased the house in Crampton, so there was no fear of Miss Dixon being evicted. But I thought you would want the Higgins to take possession of his home as soon as possible."

"You thought correctly," she replied promptly. "Thank you, doctor."

"Well, my dear, I am delighted to see you and hope you will be back soon to work," Doctor Donaldson exclaimed. "I have missed you dreadfully, but held out hope for your return. Are you certain you cannot stay for a cup of tea? I could have the kettle on in a thrice."

"No, I must go to the mill," she replied, smiling to soften her refusal. "I have business with Mr. Thornton."

He laughed wryly. "Of course you do, and I daresay that I will be forced to purchase a new suit soon enough, if I am not wrong. Go on, Meg, go to the mill and see him. Lord knows, he has missed you grievously. Put that man out of his misery. I cannot have him forever moping about here while I am trying to get work done."

She hugged him again, and promised to return to work at the clinic within the week. He escorted her to the door, and said earnestly before she left, "I am sincerely glad that you are back, Meg. I missed you dreadfully." She patted his cheek affectionately, and he wished her luck.

Stepping once more out into the streets of Milton, Meg made her way to Marlborough Mills, her heart pounding in anticipation. She hesitated for a moment inside the large gates, and her eyes swept the mill yard. Business was obviously advancing apace, given the number of workers pushing carts and carrying goods to load on carts, or unloading raw materials from carts. She was glad to see the hustle and bustle taking place all about her; it was a sign of a busy and prosperous enterprise.

Longing to see him, she walked to the office and peered inside, but the office was empty. Mastering her disappointment, she made her way to the luncheon room, hoping that he would be there. He had better be eating lunch today, she thought determinedly, or I will have something to say to him. No more late hours on an empty stomach-he will have a proper dinner at home each night, and go to bed at a proper hour. She thrilled at the thought that she might be allowed to take tender care of him-it would be her joy and privilege to do so from this day forward, she fervently hoped.

When she reached the lunchroom, she saw that it was time for the midday meal, evidenced by the workers streaming about, many lifting their caps politely to her. She walked to the entrance and peered inside. As her eyes adjusted to the gloom, she heard a hearty voice roar her name, and was caught up in a crushing hug. "Nicholas!" she exclaimed joyfully, and returned his embrace. She felt as if her ribs were crushed, but was too happy to care.

"You've come back-Mary, look who is here!" he bellowed, and Meg saw through the easy tears that sprang to her eyes that her friend was rushing across the room, a wide smile on her face and arms outstretched to embrace her.

"Oh, Meg," Mary exclaimed, hugging her friend warmly. "You are a sight! I'm so happy to see you! How have you managed to return from Spain so soon? We were worried that you might never return, once you were settled with your brother."

Meg found herself answering their questions, and being tugged along to sit at a table beside them. Anxious as she was to see Mr. Thornton, she could not refuse to spend a bit of time with her friends. She explained that she had changed her mind and did not go to Spain, and that she had arrived home the night before.

Nicholas clutched one of her hands between both of his, and Meg was surprised to see tears in his eyes. "Meg," he said in a low, emotional voice, "how can I ever thank you for the house you have given us? We don't deserve such a magnificent gift."

"Father was going to refuse to accept it-he thought it was much too grand," Mary explained placidly, "until I pointed out that it was done as much for the children as it was for us two."

Meg nodded vigorously. "Absolutely-you took those children into your home out of the kindness of your heart, Nicholas, and soon found you were out of space and living on top of each other. I did nothing to inherit that money besides having the good fortune of being the goddaughter of a wealthy and generous man. The house was my way of contributing to your family." She smiled and patted his hand. "You have already thanked me if you have moved in and are living in it."

Mary laughed happily as she explained, "The children are beside themselves, having a small yard and being able to sleep in bedrooms rather than the main room. And Dixon helped me make curtains and gave me some of the furniture you had stored in your attic, pieces that you had no room for when you moved to Milton," she explained earnestly. She added conscientiously, "Mr. Thornton gave us furniture as well." Meg's face glowed with delight when she heard this. They chatted for several minutes until Meg recollected the purpose of her visit.

Turning to Nicholas, she asked nonchalantly, "Is Mr. Thornton at the mill today?"

He looked at her speculatively. "Should be-in fact, this is the time of day he is usually on the floor, supervising. Are you going to see him now?"

She nodded her head, unable to speak for the anticipation and nervousness welling up within her.

Nicholas slapped the table with his hand. "I'll walk over with you, Meg. I want to see his face when he sees you again. He has missed you mightily. With his mood of late, I think the sight of your face will ease his heart. He may send me on my way, but this is something I must see." He rose, and Meg assured Mary that she would come to dinner at their new home soon.

Nicholas escorted Meg from the luncheon room to the mill door, and opened the door so that she might precede him into the hallway. She entered the mill, and to her discomfort, she came face to face with Mrs. Thornton. Her smile slipped-she felt as if someone had slammed a fist into her midsection. She saw Mrs. Thornton stiffen and a look of displeasure cross her face. As Meg stood frozen in place, Mrs. Thornton strolled up to her.

"Good day, Miss Hale," she said politely, eyeing Meg with rampant curiosity. "What brings you to Marlborough Mills?"

Meg stuttered, feeling ridiculously nervous, "I-I was looking for Mr. Thornton. I must - speak with him."

Mrs. Thornton smiled placidly. "That is impossible. He has gone to London on business."

"To London!" Meg exclaimed in dismay. "When did he depart?" she asked anxiously.