In the Land of the Long White Cloud

said.”
    Helen decided to interrupt the conversation for more than simple pedagogical reasons.
    “Your
father
said, Daphne,” she corrected. “Even if he did not quite express himself in such a genteel manner. Now stop scaring the others or they won’t have any appetite for breakfast. Which we can go get now. So, who’s going to the galley? Dorothy and Elizabeth? Very good. Laurie and Mary will take care of the water for washing…oh, that’s right, my ladies, we will wash up. Even when traveling, a lady insists on cleanliness.”

    When Gwyneira walked through steerage an hour later to check on her horses, she came upon a strange sight. The corridor outside the cabins was almost empty, most of the passengers being occupied either with breakfast or homesickness. However, Helen and her girls had brought out their table and chair. Helen sat enthroned, proud and upright, every ounce a lady. In front of her, on the table, was an improvised place setting, consisting of a tin plate, a bent spoon, a fork, and a dull knife. Dorothy was in the midst of presenting Helen with imaginary serving platters of food while Elizabeth handled an old bottle as though she were graciously serving a fine wine.
    “What
are
you doing?” Gwyneira asked, dumbfounded.
    Dorothy curtsied carefully. “We’re practicing what to do when serving at table, Lady Silk…Silk…”
    “Gwyneira Silkham. But you may call me
miss
. And, could you tell me again now—you’re practicing
what
?” Gwyneira eyed Helen suspiciously. Yesterday the young governess had seemed completely normal, but perhaps she was a little odd.
    Helen blushed slightly under Gwyneira’s gaze, but composed herself quickly.
    “This morning I discovered that the girls’ table manners leave something to be desired,” she said. “In the orphanage, they must have approached meals as though they were caged carnivores. Thechildren eat with their fingers and stuff themselves full as if it were their last meal on earth!”
    Ashamed, Dorothy and Elizabeth stared at the ground. The reproach had less of an effect on Daphne.
    “Perhaps they wouldn’t have gotten anything to eat otherwise,” Gwyneira speculated. “When I see how thin the girls are…but what is that supposed to be?” Once again she pointed to the table. Helen corrected the placement of the knife.
    “I’m showing the girls how a lady carries herself at table and in the process teaching them how to serve skillfully,” she replied. “I don’t think it likely that they’ll be taken in by larger households where they would specialize in being a lady’s maid, a cook, or a cleaning maid. The personnel situation in New Zealand is supposed to be extremely bad. So I am going to give the children as comprehensive an education as I can on the way over so that they can be useful to their employers in as many different capacities as possible.”
    Helen gave Elizabeth a friendly nod; the girl had just poured water into her coffee cup with perfect form, catching any spilled drops with her napkin.
    Gwyneira remained skeptical. “Useful?” she asked. “These children? I wanted to ask yesterday why they were being sent overseas, but now it’s becoming clear to me…am I right in guessing that the orphanage wanted to get rid of them, but no one in London wanted little half-starved serving girls?”
    Helen nodded. “They’re pinching pennies. Housing, feeding, clothing, and sending a child to school costs three pounds a year in the orphanage. This passage costs four, but then the children are gone for good. Otherwise, they would have to keep Rosemary and the twins on at least two more years.”
    “But the half-price fare is only for children twelve and under,” Gwyneira objected, which astonished Helen. Had this rich girl really inquired about steerage prices? “And the girls could only first take a position at thirteen.”
    Helen rolled her eyes. “In practice, at twelve, though I’d swear that Rosie cannot be more than eight. But you are right: Dorothy and Daphne should really have had to pay full price. However, the honorable ladies of the orphanage committee probably made them out to be somewhat younger for the journey.”
    “And we’ll have hardly arrived when the little ones age miraculously in order to take positions as thirteen-year-olds!” Gwyneira laughed and searched through the pockets of her white housedress, over which she’d thrown a light shawl. “The world is no good. Here, girls, have