Welsh to Long Branch where she can catch a train to Atlantic City?"
She handed him a five dollar bill.
"Buy the ticket yourself," she said.
Edward tipped his hat. His eyes implied that he understood, and he took the money and put it in his pocket.
"I'll do just that, ma'am, and I'll send you a receipt."
"Thank you, Edward, for everything. You were a great help to us today."
He again tipped his hat and returned to the carriage.
"Miss Welsh," he called.
Agnes had begun to walk down the street. She turned when she heard her name.
"The missus has asked me to take you to Long Branch so you can catch the train."
Agnes hadn't gone very far and it only took her a minute to walk to the carriage.
"I'll bet she has," Agnes said.
She looked knowingly at Marian and when Edward offered his hand, she waved it away.
"I can get in by myself," she said.
Marian watched the carriage pull away and waited until it was out of sight before going back inside the house. She could hear Hannah talking in the kitchen and went to see how the boy was getting along. He and Hannah were sitting at the kitchen table while the boy ate some soup.
"His name is Jimmy," Hannah said. "He doesn't know how old he is."
"I would imagine he's at least nine," Marian said, calculating the years since Randall had died.
"Then he can go to school," Hannah said.
The boy was quiet as he ate. He was eating so fast that most of the food fell on the front of his shirt, but he didn't seem to notice. Marian sat at the table and looked up at Becky. She had a sad look on her face.
"We'll have to go to the dry goods tomorrow and see if we can get some fabric for curtains," Marian said.
"Why do you need new curtains?" Becky asked.
"He'll need a room of his own. The only one we have is the one I use at the end of the hall. He needs a boy's room, not a frilly lady's room."
"So, you're giving up your sanctuary for him," Becky said.
"I don't mind," Marian said. "I don't use it much anymore."
That night, Jimmy and Becky fought as she tried to put him into the bathtub. Becky won, and Jimmy was washed from head to toe. When Becky put one of Hannah's old nightgowns on him, he spoke the first words they had heard him say.
"I'm not a girl," he said.
"We're all aware of that, but we've nothing else to put on you until I wash those clothes. Now hush up and get into bed."
They had fashioned a bed for Jimmy out of any old mattress that had been stored in the attic. Becky and Marian managed to pull it down and dragged it to the little room. They placed it in the middle of the floor and covered it in clean sheets.
Jimmy's belly was full for the first time since he could remember, and he felt safe. Within five minutes of lying down, he fell fast asleep.
Chapter 11
Autumn, 1896
Pierre walked through the classroom. He stopped now and then to offer guidance to a student but he didn't linger. When he stood next to Hannah, however, he found it hard to move on. He loved to watch her hands mold the clay. She had such small, soft hands. Her intense love of art was attractive to him. He wanted to take her to the finest museums in Philadelphia and New York where French paintings hung amidst crude American drawings. He longed to hold her hand and show her the finer things in life.
"Mr. Rousseau," Hannah said.
Pierre snapped out of his daydream. "Yes, Hannah."
"Am I using this chisel correctly?"
He hadn't noticed. "Yes, you are doing fine."
He forced himself to move to the next student, a fat, mousy girl named Louise. He didn't care for Louise. She smelled bad and didn't have any friends. But her paintings took his breath away. Hannah was a good sculptress -- Louise was a great artist.
Pierre thought this unfair. How could such a lovely girl as Hannah be a mediocre artist and this pumpkin of a girl, well, be so gifted? He would contemplate this injustice daily as he watched Louise create painting after painting
She handed him a five dollar bill.
"Buy the ticket yourself," she said.
Edward tipped his hat. His eyes implied that he understood, and he took the money and put it in his pocket.
"I'll do just that, ma'am, and I'll send you a receipt."
"Thank you, Edward, for everything. You were a great help to us today."
He again tipped his hat and returned to the carriage.
"Miss Welsh," he called.
Agnes had begun to walk down the street. She turned when she heard her name.
"The missus has asked me to take you to Long Branch so you can catch the train."
Agnes hadn't gone very far and it only took her a minute to walk to the carriage.
"I'll bet she has," Agnes said.
She looked knowingly at Marian and when Edward offered his hand, she waved it away.
"I can get in by myself," she said.
Marian watched the carriage pull away and waited until it was out of sight before going back inside the house. She could hear Hannah talking in the kitchen and went to see how the boy was getting along. He and Hannah were sitting at the kitchen table while the boy ate some soup.
"His name is Jimmy," Hannah said. "He doesn't know how old he is."
"I would imagine he's at least nine," Marian said, calculating the years since Randall had died.
"Then he can go to school," Hannah said.
The boy was quiet as he ate. He was eating so fast that most of the food fell on the front of his shirt, but he didn't seem to notice. Marian sat at the table and looked up at Becky. She had a sad look on her face.
"We'll have to go to the dry goods tomorrow and see if we can get some fabric for curtains," Marian said.
"Why do you need new curtains?" Becky asked.
"He'll need a room of his own. The only one we have is the one I use at the end of the hall. He needs a boy's room, not a frilly lady's room."
"So, you're giving up your sanctuary for him," Becky said.
"I don't mind," Marian said. "I don't use it much anymore."
That night, Jimmy and Becky fought as she tried to put him into the bathtub. Becky won, and Jimmy was washed from head to toe. When Becky put one of Hannah's old nightgowns on him, he spoke the first words they had heard him say.
"I'm not a girl," he said.
"We're all aware of that, but we've nothing else to put on you until I wash those clothes. Now hush up and get into bed."
They had fashioned a bed for Jimmy out of any old mattress that had been stored in the attic. Becky and Marian managed to pull it down and dragged it to the little room. They placed it in the middle of the floor and covered it in clean sheets.
Jimmy's belly was full for the first time since he could remember, and he felt safe. Within five minutes of lying down, he fell fast asleep.
Chapter 11
Autumn, 1896
Pierre walked through the classroom. He stopped now and then to offer guidance to a student but he didn't linger. When he stood next to Hannah, however, he found it hard to move on. He loved to watch her hands mold the clay. She had such small, soft hands. Her intense love of art was attractive to him. He wanted to take her to the finest museums in Philadelphia and New York where French paintings hung amidst crude American drawings. He longed to hold her hand and show her the finer things in life.
"Mr. Rousseau," Hannah said.
Pierre snapped out of his daydream. "Yes, Hannah."
"Am I using this chisel correctly?"
He hadn't noticed. "Yes, you are doing fine."
He forced himself to move to the next student, a fat, mousy girl named Louise. He didn't care for Louise. She smelled bad and didn't have any friends. But her paintings took his breath away. Hannah was a good sculptress -- Louise was a great artist.
Pierre thought this unfair. How could such a lovely girl as Hannah be a mediocre artist and this pumpkin of a girl, well, be so gifted? He would contemplate this injustice daily as he watched Louise create painting after painting
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