Miranda had written about the Sloanes’ power and the way they did things, she added one more plea. “Or at least free from pain.”
CHAPTER 6
T he World’s Columbian Exposition was far bigger than Rosalind had ever imagined. From the majestic fountains greeting visitors at the entrance to the vast array of animals and foreigners, there was plenty for all to see. Each stately columned building was filled with remarkable machinery and exotic inventions from faraway locales. The papers proclaimed that a person could spend two weeks at the fair and still not see everything.
Rosalind imagined that to be true.
Each stately building glowed in ethereal white, encouraging even the most hardened of gentlemen and women to speak in soft, respectful tones. The giant buildings, each glimmering in the twilight, promised magical wonders within. Together, their arrangement produced a unique serenity that soothed one’s soul.
Yet what kept Rosalind mesmerized was the great number of people. Ladies and maids, gentlemen and dockworkers, children and soldiers all filled the area. But instead of being worried about thecrowds, for the first time since her arrival in Chicago, Rosalind felt her spirits lift. She wished she could live in the White City.
Nanci felt the same way. “It’s a shame we can’t come back again tomorrow,” Nanci said with a pout. “We’ve walked so far and have only visited a few of the states’ buildings. I’ve a mind to visit Pennsylvania’s display next. We need to see the Liberty Bell, don’t you think?”
Nanci had been that way all afternoon, holding her Columbian Exposition newspaper tightly in one hand while pointing out sights and sounds with the other.
“Perhaps one day we’ll get to come again. You never know,” Rosalind ventured, though in truth, she had no idea how she would ever get to visit again. She’d neither the funds nor the opportunity to visit twice.
“Perhaps.” With a sigh, Nanci reached for her hand, and together they traipsed over gravel walkways and picturesque bridges. “Since the newspaper says the lines are long for the Liberty Bell, let’s make our way to the midway. I hear Blarney Castle is right magical.”
Their journey to the other end of the park took quite some time. It was impossible not to stop often to investigate different sights and sounds.
It was also impossible for Rosalind not to scan every face that passed, on the off chance that she’d find her sister. She carried the small photo she had of Miranda in her reticule, though fearing she was on a fool’s errand. The one time she dared show it to a vendor while Nanci was looking elsewhere, he laughed heartily at her question, saying thousands of people passed him each day.
The situation felt overwhelming. Rosalind wasn’t very brave. She wasn’t very good at subterfuge. Every time she left the confines of the grand mansion, she became more and more aware that she had a very limited view of the world.
In Wisconsin, she’d spent the majority of her time with either animals or her family. Here in Chicago, it seemed very few people ever spent time with their own kin. Instead, they chose to flit here and there, to accept jobs in a city that was dangerous and exciting. They’d made the choice to try something new, to be in strange surroundings.
She, on the other hand, was there only because her family was that desperate. After her father made a short trip to Chicago and could not convince either Mr. or Mrs. Sloane or the police to help him find Miranda, she’d been the only person in her family who could leave the farm and look for her. So she’d gone, not because she was the best choice, but because she was the only choice.
And now, as each day passed, she worried that perhaps she was merely making things worse. In many ways, she feared she was going to let her parents down, her whole family down. And most of all, Miranda herself.
As the sights and the sounds of the fair surrounded her,
CHAPTER 6
T he World’s Columbian Exposition was far bigger than Rosalind had ever imagined. From the majestic fountains greeting visitors at the entrance to the vast array of animals and foreigners, there was plenty for all to see. Each stately columned building was filled with remarkable machinery and exotic inventions from faraway locales. The papers proclaimed that a person could spend two weeks at the fair and still not see everything.
Rosalind imagined that to be true.
Each stately building glowed in ethereal white, encouraging even the most hardened of gentlemen and women to speak in soft, respectful tones. The giant buildings, each glimmering in the twilight, promised magical wonders within. Together, their arrangement produced a unique serenity that soothed one’s soul.
Yet what kept Rosalind mesmerized was the great number of people. Ladies and maids, gentlemen and dockworkers, children and soldiers all filled the area. But instead of being worried about thecrowds, for the first time since her arrival in Chicago, Rosalind felt her spirits lift. She wished she could live in the White City.
Nanci felt the same way. “It’s a shame we can’t come back again tomorrow,” Nanci said with a pout. “We’ve walked so far and have only visited a few of the states’ buildings. I’ve a mind to visit Pennsylvania’s display next. We need to see the Liberty Bell, don’t you think?”
Nanci had been that way all afternoon, holding her Columbian Exposition newspaper tightly in one hand while pointing out sights and sounds with the other.
“Perhaps one day we’ll get to come again. You never know,” Rosalind ventured, though in truth, she had no idea how she would ever get to visit again. She’d neither the funds nor the opportunity to visit twice.
“Perhaps.” With a sigh, Nanci reached for her hand, and together they traipsed over gravel walkways and picturesque bridges. “Since the newspaper says the lines are long for the Liberty Bell, let’s make our way to the midway. I hear Blarney Castle is right magical.”
Their journey to the other end of the park took quite some time. It was impossible not to stop often to investigate different sights and sounds.
It was also impossible for Rosalind not to scan every face that passed, on the off chance that she’d find her sister. She carried the small photo she had of Miranda in her reticule, though fearing she was on a fool’s errand. The one time she dared show it to a vendor while Nanci was looking elsewhere, he laughed heartily at her question, saying thousands of people passed him each day.
The situation felt overwhelming. Rosalind wasn’t very brave. She wasn’t very good at subterfuge. Every time she left the confines of the grand mansion, she became more and more aware that she had a very limited view of the world.
In Wisconsin, she’d spent the majority of her time with either animals or her family. Here in Chicago, it seemed very few people ever spent time with their own kin. Instead, they chose to flit here and there, to accept jobs in a city that was dangerous and exciting. They’d made the choice to try something new, to be in strange surroundings.
She, on the other hand, was there only because her family was that desperate. After her father made a short trip to Chicago and could not convince either Mr. or Mrs. Sloane or the police to help him find Miranda, she’d been the only person in her family who could leave the farm and look for her. So she’d gone, not because she was the best choice, but because she was the only choice.
And now, as each day passed, she worried that perhaps she was merely making things worse. In many ways, she feared she was going to let her parents down, her whole family down. And most of all, Miranda herself.
As the sights and the sounds of the fair surrounded her,
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