In the Land of the Long White Cloud

was in the past. He felt only a vague tenderness for the woman now standing before him. Would he have felt the same way if she hadn’t refused him then? Would his passion have given way to friendship and a sense of responsibility? Likely even before he had completed his studies and been able to seal the bond of marriage with her? And would he really have married her then, or would he simply have hoped that he would someday feel such a burning love for another woman?
    George was unable to answer any of these questions with certainty—except for the last. “When I say forever, I mean just that. But I won’t importune you with that anymore. You’re not going to run away with me anyway, are you now?” The old, impertinent grin.
    Helen shook her head and held a carrot out to Nepumuk. “I could never leave the mule,” she joked, with tears in her eyes. George was so sweet and still so innocent. How happy he would make the first girl to take his promises seriously.
    “Now come in and tell me about your family.”
    The interior of the hut was what George had expected: simple furniture, made cozy by the tireless hand of a tidy and busy housewife. A bright cloth and a pitcher full of flowers decorated a table, and the chairs were made more comfortable by homemade pillows.A spinning wheel stood in front of the fireplace alongside Helen’s old rocking chair, and her books were neatly organized on a shelf. There were even a few new ones. Were they presents from Howard, or on loan from Gwyneira, he wondered. Though George could hardly picture Gerald reading, Kiward Station had a comprehensive library.
    George reported on London while Helen prepared tea. She worked with her back to him, surely not wanting him to see her hands. Raw and worn down, they were no longer the soft, manicured hands of his old governess.
    “Mother still oversees her charitable committees—only she left the orphanage committee after the scandal back then. She still holds that against you, Helen. The ladies are convinced you spoiled the girls on the passage over.”
    “I did what?” Helen asked, dumbfounded.
    “Your, I’m quoting here, ‘emancipated style’ led the girls to forget humility and devotion toward their employers. That’s the only way this scandal could have come about. Of course, no mention was made of the fact that it was you, in fact, who revealed everything to Pastor Thorne. Mrs. Baldwin never said a thing.”
    “George, those were young girls in distress! They delivered one up to a pervert and sold another into slavery. A family with eight children, George, for whom a girl of ten—at most—was supposed to manage the household. And serve as a midwife too. No wonder the child ran away. And Laurie’s so-called employers weren’t much better. I can still hear that impossible Mrs. Lavender: ‘No, if we take two they’ll only talk the livelong day instead of working.’ And the little one bawling her eyes out the whole time.”
    “Have you heard anything more about the girls?” George inquired. “You never wrote anything more about them.”
    It sounded like the young man knew each of Helen’s letters by heart.
    Helen shook her head. “All anyone knows is that Mary and Laurie disappeared on the same day. Exactly a week after they were separated. It’s suspected that they arranged it ahead of time. I don’t believe that though. Mary and Laurie never needed to arrange anything. The one always knew what the other was thinking—it was almost eerie.No one heard another word from them after that day. I fear they’re dead. Two little girls alone in the wilderness…it’s not as though they lived two miles down the road from one another and could easily have met each other. These…these
Christians
,” she spat the word out, “they sent Mary to a farm behind Haldon, and Laurie stayed in Christchurch. There are almost fifty miles of wilderness in between the two. I dare not think about what those children endured.”
    Helen poured the tea and sat down next to George at the table.
    “And the third one?” he asked. “What happened to her?”
    “Daphne? Oh we found out about that scandal a few weeks later. She ran away. But before that she threw a pot of boiling water at her employer, this Morrison fellow—full in the face. At first they said he wouldn’t survive it. He managed to after all, but he’s blind and his face is deformed by scars. Dorothy says that now Morrison looks like the monster he’s always been.