Shadow in the North

Chapter Two - A Matter of Conscience

Margaret Hale sat at the garden table - amongst the sweet-smelling roses of Helstone - unable to enjoy the crystal blue of the uninterrupted, cloudless skies. Nor could she enjoy the sound of birdsong or the fresh summer breeze which carried the fragrant scent of jasmine to her lips. In truth, she could think of nothing but the words her father had just spoken.

'But why, Papa? Why must we remove from Helstone, and so very far away?'

'My old friend, Bell, has recommended Milton-Northern. It is a thriving city, my dear. I feel sure that I can be of use there.' Margaret frowned, but determined to hide her evident distaste for somewhere so very alien to her beloved Helstone, for it was clear that he father's conscience at uprooting his family, weighed upon him, greatly.

'But the Church, Papa! You have broken with the Church? Is there not a resolution to be found so as not to necessitate such a drastic move?' asked Margaret, with a hopeless expectation. Still, her eyes widened, eager for his response, for how could her father be so very set upon the move - to have put the wheels in motion without saying a word to wife or daughter - when her dear mother would be so obviously unhappy to leave their rural idyll? Mr Hale shook his head sadly and gave a helpless shrug of his shoulders; quiet man as he was.

'I am sorry, Margaret, but no. It is a matter of conscience. I have determined to remove to Milton, and in that, my resolve shall not falter. I cannot - in all conscience - allow it to.'

'But Mamma -' began Margaret, only for Mr Hale to straighten his back with a sudden burst of surety.

'No, Margaret. Your mother will come to understand. This, I must do. Besides, we shall do well in Milton. It is a young and thriving city unlike any we have ever seen, ourselves. Think on it as an adventure, Margaret.'

'But work? What shall you do for work?' For, although her mother was a fine lady, and her father a gentleman, he was the youngest son, and of limited funds, even with employment. 'If you are to break with the Church entirely, whatever shall you do in this place - Milton-Northern?'

'I mean to teach, Margaret.' He paused, then nodded stoically, as though to assuage his own remaining doubts. 'Yes,' nodded Mr Hale, 'I shall teach, and - indeed - I may find that is my true calling in life, dear.' Margaret could not share her father's hopeful confidence, however, for although she knew nothing of this northern manufacturing town, she felt sure that a place so very full of tradesmen, could offer her father little in the way of students of the classics. Reading and writing, perhaps, but Plato and Aristotle? Latin and Greek? Mr Hale, not the most astute of men, but a deep thinker, nonetheless, caught his daughter's stifled frown, but happily misinterpreted it. 'Come, Margaret; I know you have never been fond of schools, but to give a man an education is to give a man the greatest gift in life. The young men in these growing cities seek to better themselves, and how can one do so without an education? No, I feel certain Milton will suit us well.' And so saying, he stood from the garden chair and took up his teacup and saucer. 'You will speak to your mother?' asked Mr Hale, in a quiet, pleading voice. Margaret's head snapped round to him in alarm.

'I will speak with her?' asked Margaret, aghast. Mr Hale had the grace to blush. His hands moved nervously behind his back and he anxiously twinned his fingers together.

'I know not what to say to her. I feel sure you will know best how to break the news. You will tell her for me, Margaret?' His large eyes looked upon her hopefully, and she sighed her acceptance. It was a commission she did not wish to accept, but her father had not the stomach for conflict, and she knew her mother was sure to take a turn at such alarming news.

'Yes, Papa,' came her low reply. She was resigned to their fate; now she must be resigned to her duty.

'Thank you,' Mr Hale whispered, laying an elegant hand upon his daughter's shoulder in a gesture of sincere gratitude. 'I shall be gone from home tomorrow - out for much of the day. Your mother must know of our removal from Helstone before my return tomorrow evening.'