Chapter Seven

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"What, he just left?" Bessie asked, leaning back against the pillows. "Without so much as a goodbye?"

"Yes." Margaret said. "I am afraid I have offended him most grievously. I did not mean to reject him outright, at least - at least I don't think that I did. But the way he spoke to me, he would not listen to a word I said!"

"Oh Margaret, what a tizz you've got yourself in! I thought you cared for him."

"I do not know what I feel!" Margaret protested for what felt like the tenth time that day. "I certainly do not dislike him as strongly as perhaps I once did."

"Hmm, that's generous of you." Bessie picked up the collars Margaret had brought her. "These are too generous an' all, Missy. You'll be takin' 'em back from whence they came. Tryin' to butter me up so I don't wallop you for bein' so silly?"

Margaret tried desperately to smile. It was so wonderful to hear Bessie make a joke, for the previous day Margaret had been summoned by Mary in a terrible hurry. Bessie had become so weak from coughing, Margaret was sure yesterday would be the last time she would see her friend. Yet today Margaret had arrived in Princeton to find her friend alert and in good spirits. She had brought some old collars for Bessie and Mary too, but that was mostly an excuse to leave the house after the terrible business with Mr Thornton.

"Oh Bessie, stop teasing me. I wore these when I was a child, I think if I were trying to win you over I would need something far finer. I know you must think me quite the fool."

"I just don't understand it." Bessie shifted, trying to get comfortable. Margaret leant forward, adjusting the pillow behind her back. "I was certain you were smitten last time I saw you. Kissin' in corners and all sorts!"

"Please." Margaret shook her head. "Don't even joke. I have behaved wrongly, and now everything is in such a terrible mess. What if he refuses to come for lessons anymore? My father has so little to look forward to, and Mother is growing worse by the day."

"I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sure you can set this right." Bessie wheezed heavily, but she waved away any offer of help. "Make it right. What use is it lyin' to yerself that you feel nothin' for him, when you're sitting here near tears? You cling to yer pride all you like, but all I know is - if I had a chance for love, I'd take it."

"Bessie-"

"No use denying it. I've not long left, we both know it. I've spent my life workin' for men who don't know me to pass on t'street. What have I got to show for it? Nothing but lungs that aren't fit to take a breath. Thornton's a good man, no matter what folk say about him. He's tough, that's why they don't like him. But he int cruel."

"I know." Margaret agreed. "The more I come to understand Milton, the more I see that I was unfair to him to think him cruel. Is everyone back at work?"

"Aye. Pa's not in a good way, angry at the men who broke the strike. Did you hear? Violence towards a woman, what were they thinking of?"

"I'm sure whatever was done was not so bad."

"It was enough."

Margaret stared down at the lace in her hands, knowing she must tell her friend the truth.

"It was me."

"What?"

"The woman involved in the violence, it was me. I am surprised you did not hear, for I saw many familiar faces in that crowd. Boucher was there. I have never seen a man look so wild, I was scared of what he might do."

"Aye, I knew that. He's still missing, too scared to go home while police are out lookin' for 'im. His poor wife is in quite a state. It were you, truly?"

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