In Consequence - Chapter 12

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Maria Hale woke with a start and opened her eyes to stare blindly at the darkness of the hour. She felt the cold uneasiness of some horrible dream, although she could not conjure the images that had left her feeling frightened and confused.

The dull ache in her body gave a twinge of protracted pain, and she tightened her muscles in dread. Closing her eyes, she prepared to endure it. Quietly, and as swiftly as it had entered, the pain ebbed after a few moments until all that was left was the familiar feeling of discomfort.

She sighed in some relief and took a few easy breaths to calm her shaking fear. But a lingering dread remained, haunting her thoughts and tracing the pictures of her future with an ominous hand of doom.

She could no longer deny it, even to herself. She was fast sinking into the morass of decline, being pulled ever closer to the final portal of death from which all mortals shrank.

Tears sprung to her eyes in helplessness and she offered up a prayer that the Lord would grant the last humble requests of an earthly mother before taking her to her eternal home.

******

Margaret slipped silently into her mother's room at mid-morning. A chill of fear crept into her veins as she noted at once the sallow cheek, wearied posture, and wan look of despair on her mother's face.

"Mother?" the worried daughter called out, alerting the pensive sufferer to her presence.

"Oh, Margaret!" her mother returned with hopeful vigor, her features at once brightening at her daughter's appearance, although there remained a trace of sadness in her eyes. "I've been waiting to talk to you," she said, as she straightened herself with importance.

Margaret took a seat next to her mother on the sofa, awaiting her mother's news with anxious curiosity.

"I believe you have a fond affection for Mr. Thornton, is that not so?" Mrs. Hale asked delicately.

Margaret blushed at this unexpected overture. "Yes....I do," she answered honestly, glancing briefly at her hands, clasped gently on her lap.

"I'm pleased to hear it, dear. I am certain he will be very good to you," she remarked as she patted her daughter's knee with an assuring smile. "You see, I have been considering it all very carefully. If we were to set the date for the twenty-eighth, and send out the invitations quickly, the guests would have over a fortnight's notice..."

"The twenty-eighth? Of this month, Mother?" Margaret interrupted, her eyes widening with surprise. Edith's wedding had been arranged in six weeks' time and it had been an exhausting trial of constant activity and attention to detail.

"Why, yes - of course. I know it seems hasty, but I believe with Mrs. Thornton's help, everything could be arranged properly..."

Margaret only heard fragments of her mother's continued speech, as her mind raced to comprehend the significance of this rush to the altar. She would be married soon. Her heart pattered with conflicting pulses of elation and nervous apprehension. She had somehow imagined the interval of her engagement would naturally be of longer duration.

"But, Mother," she hastened to add, "it takes three weeks for the banns to be read."

"Yes, precisely so. And three weeks from today the banns will have been read," she logically returned. "My dear," she exclaimed with compassion at Margaret's stupefied expression. "You must understand ... I wish to see you married. It would make me happy," she said more softly as she averted her gaze, a sweep of melancholy draining the recent animation from her features.

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