In the Land of the Long White Cloud

nothing was far in all of Christchurch. Helen had only to lead her girls around three street corners before they were standing in front of the parsonage. Compared to Helen’s father’s home and the Thornes’ house, the yellow-painted building made a meager impression, and the church next door hardly made a better one. Nevertheless, the house door was adorned with a beautiful brass door-knocker in the shape of a lion’s head. Daphne boldly made use of it.
    At first nothing happened. Then a grumpy, broad-faced girl appeared in the doorframe.
    “What do you all want, then?” she asked inhospitably.
    All the girls except Daphne stepped back in fear. Helen stepped forward.
    “First, miss, we would like to wish you a good evening,” Helen declared resolutely. “And then I would like to speak with Reverend Baldwin. My name is Helen Davenport. Lady Brennan must have mentioned me in a letter. And these are the girls the reverend wrote to London for in order to find them positions here.”
    The young woman nodded and assumed a somewhat friendlier expression. Still she could not bring herself greet the group properly, and instead cast deprecatory glances at the orphans. “I believe my mother did not expect you until tomorrow. I’ll tell her you’re here.”
    The young girl turned to go, but Helen called her back.
    “Miss Baldwin, the children and I have just made a journey of eighteen thousand miles. Do you not think that common courtesy requires that you ask us to come in and offer us a place to sit?”
    The girl made a face. “You can come in, if you want,” she said. “But not them brats. Who knows what sort of vermin they’ll bring in after their passage in steerage. My mother definitely won’t want that in her house.”
    Helen boiled with rage, but restrained herself.
    “Then I’ll wait out here as well. I shared a cabin with these girls, so if they have vermin, so have I.”
    “Suit yourself,” the girl said, unconcerned, as she shuffled back into her house and shut the door behind her.
    “A proper lady!” Daphne said with a smirk. “I must not have quite understood what you were trying to teach us, Miss Davenport.”
    Helen should have reprimanded her, but she lacked the energy. Besides, if the mother acted in as un-Christian a manner as her daughter, she would still need to have a little fight left in her.
    Mrs. Baldwin appeared very quickly and made an effort to be friendly. She was shorter and less plump than her daughter and lacked her frying-pan face. Her features were instead rather hawkish; she had small, narrowly spaced eyes and a mouth that had to force itself to smile.
    “This is quite a surprise, Miss Davenport. But Mrs. Brennan did indeed mention you—and very positively, if I may say so. Please come right in. Belinda is preparing the guest room for you as we speak. Now, we’ll have to put up the girls for a night too, although…” She deliberated briefly, apparently going through a list of names in her mind. “The Lavenders and Mrs. Godewind live nearby. I can send someone there straightaway. Perhaps you would like to take your girls to be received tonight. The remaining children can sleep in the stables. But first come in, Miss Davenport, come in. It’s getting cold out here.”
    Helen sighed. She would have loved to accept the invitation, but of course that wouldn’t be right.
    “Mrs. Baldwin, the girls are cold too. They’ve come twelve miles on foot and require a bed and a warm meal. And until I hand them over to their employers, I am responsible for them. That is what I agreed to with the director of the orphanage, and that is what I was paid for. So please show me where the girls will be staying first, and then I will gladly accept your hospitality.”
    Mrs. Baldwin made a face but said nothing more. Instead, she dug a key out of a pocket on the wide apron she wore over an expansive housedress and led Helen and the girls around to the side of the house. Here there was a stall for a horse and a cow. A pungent-smelling haystack next to it had a few blankets thrown over it to make it more comfortable. Helen gave in to the inevitable.
    “You heard her, girls. Tonight you’ll be sleeping here,” she instructed the girls. “Spread out your bedsheets—nice and carefully; otherwise, your clothes will be covered in hay. There will no doubt be water for washing up in the kitchen. I will see to it that it is available for you to use. I will come back later to make sure you