The Staircase by Ann Rinaldi

responsibility."
    "Ma'am?" I can pretend stupidity with the best of them. I learned that back in Independence, in Miss Cannon's fifth grade. Mother Magdalena had nothing on Miss Cannon, who terrorized her class with a ruler she wielded like a saber.
    "Every day, after your lessons are completed, you will accompany Mrs. Lacey to Fort Marcy so she can bring flowers to her son's grave."
    "Ma'am, that place is creepy. Please, I'll take any other punishment."
    "You have proved yourself adept with her, Elizabeth. She told me she likes you."
    "But she wants to bring food for her dead son." Of course, I knew who the food was for.
    "The food is not for her dead son, Elizabeth," she said sadly. "It is for Delvina."
    "Ma'am? You
know
about Delvina?"
    She smiled, and I had to admit that her face softened in the most disarming way. "There is not much I do not know around here, Elizabeth. You might make a note of that for future reference."
    "But then, if you don't mind my asking, ma'am, why don't you do something about Delvina?"
    "And what would you suggest we do, Elizabeth?"
    "Why, bring her here. Give her a place."

    "Impossible. And if I must answer to you, it is impossible because her husband is a known brigand hereabouts. Your Jesse James from Missouri is a lesser angel compared to him. He is, God help him, a drunkard, a wife-beater, a thief, and worse. If he knew she was here, our safety would be threatened. I cannot endanger my girls. So, you will keep your own good counsel about Delvina. Tell no one. Or I will have to forbid Mrs. Lacey from visiting her son's grave. Is that clear?"
    "Yes, ma'am." It wasn't, of course. How she, who was supposed to be of the True Faith, could allow a woman expecting a child to live in an abandoned fort was beyond my understanding. I knew what my own mama would do about the problem, all right.
    "There are one or two more things before you go," she was saying.
    I sighed wearily.
    "Henceforth, if you do not wish me to take your horse, you will leave the grounds only to take Mrs. Lacey to the graveyard. And then, only when you sign out. And as of today, you will wear the purple school uniform. Girls who are seen in that on the streets are known to be from this school, and everyone respects them. You will attend regular classes, mass every morning, and the novena we are making to Saint Joseph for the staircase."
    "Novena? Isn't mass enough? I don't even understand the mass. All that Latin."
    "The novena is very important to us here, and, as part of the school, should be important to you, too. We need a staircase to the choir loft."
    "I know. Mrs. Lacey told me."

    She gave me a queer look. "I'm not surprised. She is downright crazed on the subject. Even gave us more money after her first contribution to the church, to find a good carpenter to build one. Says she is doing it for Robert, her son. She has some strange notion that Robert won't rest in peace until the church is completed. And to her that means the staircase. And she's not even Catholic!"
    Then why don't you get a carpenter,
I wanted to say. But, of course, I didn't.
    "It is a major crisis at the moment, that staircase. We hoped our first Christmas in the new chapel would be celebrated in a fashion after the Bishop's beloved Sainte-Chapelle, in Paris. We have exhausted every other hope. Our last resort is a novena to Saint Joseph."
    I was not expected to reply, thank heavens. Not being of the True Faith, I thought simply that she was living in a dream world. I was dismissed then, so she informed me. I was to go right to classes. And as part of my punishment it was henceforth my duty to bring Mrs. Lacey's meals to her room, also.
    "She drinks only goat's milk. She will ask you to sneak coffee out of the kitchen for her. She is inordinately fond of coffee. But under no circumstances are you to do so. She has neuralgia. Sister Roberta is in charge of the infirmary, and you are to inform her should the neuralgia act up. She will give you a pillow