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A few days later, the day of the Watsons' dinner party, at Margaret's house. Dixon walked into Margaret's room. She spoke to Margaret, who was standing in front of the mirror.
"Oh, how elegant you look! The straw-color dress suits you."
Margaret laughed a little, looking at the maid in the mirror.
"Thank you, Dixon, but Edith once called it 'the dead gold-colored gown' .'"
Dixon giggled.
"Well, I disagreed with her. At any rate, the straw-color of the dress goes with the blue of the necklace. Is it from London?"
"No, this is a gift from Mr. Thornton."
Dixon was at a loss for words.
"What?"
"Miss Margaret, do you call him by his first name when you are alone?"
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The dinner party was held at the Watsons'. Before the dinner began, the guests, mainly mill owners and their wives, were all dressed up, standing around chatting.
Margaret stood alone in a dress and holding a glass. John and Hannah were talking to different guests. The host, Mr. Watson, came and called out to Margaret cheerfully.
"How do you do, Miss Hale?"
She took the proffered hand and greeted him.
"Thank you for inviting me, Mr. Watson. It's a lovely decor."
Watson chuckled, saying "My Fanny is into Asian right now, it's not my taste." and drifted on to the next guest.
Piano music played softly in the background. There was a murmur of laughter.
"Nice to see you again, Miss Hale."
Margaret was spoken to from the side by a man. It was the man who had spoken to her on the street before.
"...Mr. Morison, good evening."
"What a splendid party! Apparently Watson's kept making a fortune in speculation...I'm jealous."
He said, looking at her with a thin smile.
"Miss Hale, you've had quite a good time with it too, haven't you?"
She treated him coldly.
"It's none of your business, Mr. Morison. Besides, I'm out of speculation now."
"Oh, I see."
Morison made sure that John, talking with others, was far enough away to hear him.
"By the way why did you invest in Thornton whose business was about to broke? I was really hoping to become your tenant of the Marlborough."
He leaned a little closer to her and said in a low voice, "Well, is it true Thornton and you're getting married?"
Disgusted by what he was insinuating, she declared:
"The reason for investment was the petition I saw the other day."
"Petition?" he repeated.
"Yes, the petition written by the workers of the Marlborough. It said they wanted the mill to reopen under Mr. John Thornton."
His brow furrowed and mouth shut. Margaret stared at the mill owner next to her.
"Do you think your workers will sign a petition saying they want to work for you, as well?"
They stood silently, becoming aware that John looked at them talking from a distance.
"Excuse me," Morison said shortly and walked away from her.
Exhaling deeply, as if to release her pent-up anger, she felt someone's eyes on her from behind and hesitantly looked backwards.
Hannah was there, standing alone.