Margaret of the North (22 page)

The full force of summer hit
Milton in the middle of August, bringing with it heat and still air, trapping
the smoky, heavy emissions from the cotton mills, and forcing most of the
city's inhabitants to take refuge indoors unless they had business to do
outside.  Margaret was not one to be fazed by heat and sun.  There had been
more of those in the south although summer days were hardly ever as unbearable
as they were in Milton.  Cooling breezes and an abundance of sprawling shady
trees always tempered the heat. 

Margaret, determined not to let
the weather disrupt her usual routines, went out for her daily walk.  Walking
was a habit she naturally grew into long ago in Helstone where everything
outdoors beckoned her to explore and enjoy its delights.  When she moved to
Milton, with her parents, walking in the parks provided her respite from the
oppressive atmosphere of the city and the cramped quarters they moved into. 
Later, when one sorrowful event after another struck, walking provided relief,
however temporary, from those unfortunate events.  It rejuvenated her exhausted
spirits and gave her time for reflection.  Walking had become a necessity and
she was kept away from it only when snow, wind, and rain made going out unwise
or even dangerous.

Margaret did think it wise to
change her schedule this scorching summer.  She usually went out relatively
early in the morning right after breakfast, before the atmosphere and the
temperature were at their worst.  One morning, after a particularly warm and
muggy night during which she tossed and turned and slept fitfully, she and John
got up earlier than usual and prepared to go to breakfast.  She was not her
usual bright self in the morning.  Her head throbbed, her stomach was a little
unsettled, and her back muscles ached.  She thought, at first, that she should
forego her walk that morning but she hoped that some strong tea at breakfast
would cure those little ills brought on by her lack of sleep.  In any case, she
was free to change her mind if tea and scones did not soothe her enough for
walking. 

She could start on one of the
many daily chores to keep the condition of the house as impeccable as it had
been under Mrs. Thornton's supervision.  Margaret found these chores more
drudgery than pleasure but she was anxious not to give her mother-in-law
something to criticize her for.  As was her wont, she followed her chores with
more agreeable occupation, reading, tending to pots of plants she started with
Dixon, or if she had not yet done so, going for her daily walk.  While Mrs.
Thornton was away, she kept her schedule flexible and, on days such as this,
could take her walk in late afternoon if she was feeling better.

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

Margaret put the last pin on her
hair as John, properly attired but without his jacket, turned her way and
gestured at her to indicate that he was ready to take her down to breakfast. 
She began to get up but before she could straighten, she was gripped by a
strange sensation of the room swaying and receding from her vision, of being
seized by a wave of nausea in her stomach that quickly spread to her chest, and
of her legs melting from under her as her body crumpled slowly to the floor. 
On her way down, her hand instinctively grabbed the back of her chair and she
held on to it with all the strength she had left.  She was fading fast when
steady arms enclosed her in a familiar embrace so safe and strong that she
allowed herself to let go.  John, a few paces away, had run to catch her and
the alarm he had experienced only a week or so ago came rushing back,
intensifying at the sight of her ashen face, the color drained from her mouth
and cheeks.  She looked at him with dazed eyes before she closed them and
collapsed like a rag doll in his arms.

"Margaret, my love," 
John cried, his voice fraught with anxiety.  He picked her up, carried her to
the bed and gently laid her down.  He could barely control the shaking in his
limbs and, fearful of leaving his wife alone, he rang vigorously for Dixon to
send someone straightaway for the doctor.  Dixon came quickly at the frantic
ringing.  She saw Margaret looking almost lifeless on the bed and, for an
instant, terror overcame her.  She hurried out to do as she was bid, swiftly
but calmly.

Dixon had handled situations like
this before, had learned critical signs to watch out for and she doubted, upon
recalling what she saw, that there was anything seriously wrong with her young
mistress whose constitution she knew to be much sturdier than her mother. 
Despite the master's reaction, she had her own suspicions of the cause of
Margaret's current affliction and the more she thought about it, the more
convinced she was that her suspicions were true.  In any case, the master would
know soon enough.

John sat on the bed, caressing
his wife's face gently.  He fixed his eyes on her face, watchful for any signs
of increasing distress.  Her breathing was shallow and slow but regular.  John
called out, "My love, can you hear me?"  She opened her eyes halfway,
smiled faintly at him and opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. 
"Hush," he said in as soothing a tone as he could summon, "I am
here and Dr. Donaldson should be here very soon."

Dixon returned with a basin of
cold water and compresses, "I will take care of her now, master.  You
might feel better waiting in your study.  The doctor will be here any minute
now.  Williams went for him in a cab."

"No," John answered
almost angrily but he got up to give her room.  "Do what you can but I
will stay here with her," he continued a little more subdued as he pulled
a chair by the bed and sat down on it.

Dixon smiled, actually relieved
to have him stay.  Mr. Hale was never able to endure his wife's illnesses and
fainting spells and it gratified her to see Mr. Thornton so solicitous of his
wife.  She sat by the side of the bed and began applying cold compresses to
Margaret's face.  John held Margaret's hand, stroking it and, once in a while,
pressing it to his lips.  Soon, the color began to come back to her face and
her faint breathing became stronger.  She opened her eyes once or twice but
closed them again as if the diffused light in the room blinded her.

Dr. Donaldson came shortly
thereafter and glanced briefly at Margaret.  "Williams told me she
fainted.  What was she doing when it happened?"

"We were about to go to
breakfast and she was getting up from her chair," John answered.

Dr. Donaldson nodded and said,
"So, she has not had anything to eat."  He turned to John.  "How
long have you been married?"

"About three months."

The doctor nodded again.  "I
would like to examine Mrs. Thornton in private.  But please stay just outside
the door, Dixon, in case I need your help."

John, worry plainly written on
his face, hardly took his eyes off his wife and did not move from his chair,
seemingly determined to stay.  Dr. Donaldson stood next to him and took
Margaret's pulse.  He smiled calmly at John.  "Her color is back and I
have not seen anything so far to alarm me so I am sure she will be all right. 
I will come directly to you after I have examined her."  He motioned with
a hand towards the door to the study and waited until John got up,
reluctantly.  John lingered for a moment, gazing at his wife and then he wordlessly
walked toward his study.  At the door, he paused to look back at Margaret.

John sat in front of his desk,
staring pensively into space.  In the three short months that they had been
married, Margaret had become the most important part of his life.  He knew
almost from the beginning that she had somehow changed his life.  Never had
anyone caused him such consternation at her indifference, such agony at the
thought that her affections belonged elsewhere—and yet—such pleasure when he
imagined her expressive face and the gestures of her head, such tingling when
he thought of holding her in his arms.

For her, he had acted in ways he
never thought he would or could.  Now that she was his wife, her hold over him
was stronger than ever.  Margaret brought pleasure to the commonplace and
through her zest for so much that her world could offer, she helped expand his
interests, his perspective and his thinking.  Her enthusiasm for art and music,
her curiosity about new places and different cultures, her openness to new
experiences had enticed him to venture into a world beyond the making and
merchandising of cotton that had dominated most of his life. 

Having experienced what life was
with Margaret, John was even more fearful now of losing her.  He was intensely
anxious about why she fainted but he could not, would not, even for a moment,
confront the possibility that there was any actual threat of losing her.  The
notion of a future without her was totally inconceivable to him now.  And yet,
unlike Fanny's near-fainting spells, his wife's symptoms had been quite real
and those that he just witnessed could no longer be attributed to seasickness. 
Her mother had died of some illness, the nature of which he was ignorant about.

John got up abruptly, trying to
vanish those disturbing thoughts, and he paced about the room in quick anxious
strides.  But physical exertion could not calm the turmoil in his mind and he
picked up the volume of Plato that Margaret gave him when her father died, to
seek some distraction there.  He opened it at random and read as he walked back
and forth but he could not make sense of the words even after reading them a
second and third time.  He put the book back on the desk and stared at the door
that closed the bedroom off to his study.  It seemed to him the doctor was
taking an inordinately long time and he fought the urge to go storming back
into the bedroom.  In fact, it took less than half an hour before Dr. Donaldson
knocked on the door and opened it without waiting for his response.  The doctor
walked briskly towards him and, grinning broadly, extended both of his hands to
grasp one of John's.  John let out one long breath of relief.  His wife was
going to be all right.

"Your wife, young Mrs.
Thornton, is quite healthy and nothing is wrong with her that about eight
months could not cure."  Dr. Donaldson shook John's hand heartily and,
seeing the puzzle still knitting his brow, he explained.  "Nausea,
lightheadedness, and fainting occasionally are not unusual in the first three,
even four months of pregnancy.  If they tend to occur in the morning, the best
preventive is a light breakfast in bed—tea, dry toast, and if she can tolerate
it, some butter or jam."

John finally grasped what the
doctor said and managed to grin back at him.  "Thank you, doctor.  That is
good news."  A fleeting frown crossed his brow, however, as he added,
"although I had not anticipated having children right way."

"Well, man, what do you
expect?   Most young men like you rejoice at news like this.  It reassures them
that their legacy would continue.  Anyway, you must pamper her in the coming
months."  Dr. Donaldson laughed, "I suppose it is unnecessary for me
to tell you to do that.  I will visit her next month to make sure that
everything is proceeding normally."

Once again, he shook John's hand
and when it appeared the latter still seemed slightly dazed, the doctor
hesitated to leave him; instead, he reminisced.  "I met your wife for the
first time years ago under sadder circumstances, as I recall, and she made such
an impression on me that I still remember her, busy as I have been with so many
patients and their ailments.  She and her father just came in from a party so
she was all dressed up and I couldn't help thinking then, "What a lovely
young woman!"  They were both surprised to see me there but she had been
more alarmed than he was.  Later, when I returned to check on Mrs. Hale, her
husband was out on one of his lectures and Miss Hale insisted on being
completely informed about her mother who was then in the last stages of her
illness.  I could see the deep anxiety on her face but she did not flinch when
I gave her the bad news.  I could sense her struggle to remain in control of
her emotions.  I wondered then who the lucky man would be who could win the
heart of such an extraordinary young woman—self-possessed and perceptive for
her age, for any age, but yet sensitive and so vulnerable that it made one want
to protect her."

Dr. Donaldson paused, then said,
"But I doubted then that Miss Hale was the sort who would accept a man
merely for the protection he could give her.  No, she would cope on her own
rather than give her heart away lightly."  He paused again and with an
impish smile, added, "That alone would attract any man who enjoys a
challenge."

He peered closely at John who was
staring at him with the faintest scowl over his now alert eyes.  Amused and
curious at his expression, Dr. Donaldson remarked, "I should have guessed
it would have been you she fell for, Thornton, if she were to take fancy to any
of us Milton men."  Grinning broadly, he declared, "I have been in
this profession long enough and I can pretty much tell how a couple feel about
each other."

"Thank you again, Dr.
Donaldson," John shook his hand again, more vigorously this time, a
heartfelt smile brightening his eyes.

Dr. Donaldson nodded and took his
leave with a parting advice, "She can do anything she wants to do and
feels capable doing.  I would not put any restrictions on her activities except
that she should be careful about those lightheaded spells in the next two,
maybe three, months.  They usually occur in the morning but they should
pass."

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

Margaret was sitting up in bed
when he came in.  A faint blush had returned to her cheeks although dark
shadows still circled her eyes from lack of sleep.  She reached her arms out as
he sat down on the side of the bed and rested them on his shoulders, clasping
her hands behind his neck.  He gathered her in his arms, peered at her face,
looked deep into her eyes that were very slowly regaining their brightness and
clarity and said, "You gave me such a scare."