In the Land of the Long White Cloud

sugar could alleviate all the suffering in the world. The child looked totally exhausted; she had clearly not gotten a wink of sleep. Helen could not bring herself to think about handing the girl over to total strangers.
    “If Laurie is crying like this and not eating like this, the Lavenders will definitely send her back,” Dorothy speculated hopefully.
    Daphne rolled her eyes. “You don’t even believe that yourself. The old lady’ll beat her first, or lock her in the cleaning cupboard. And if she doesn’t eat, she’ll be happy she’s saved on a meal. She’s cold as a dog’s nose, the piece of shit…oh, good morning, Miss Davenport. I hope you slept well at least.” Daphne glowered disrespectfully at her teacher and made no attempt to apologize for her unsuitable language.
    “As you yourself noted yesterday,” Helen replied icily, “there was nothing I could do for Laurie. However, I will try to reestablish contact with the family. Yes, I slept very well, as I’m sure you did. No doubt that was the first time you let yourself be moved by your feelings for others.”
    Daphne lowered her head. “I’m sorry, Miss Davenport.”
    Helen was astonished. Had she really achieved such an improvement in the girl’s behavior?

    Later that morning, little Rosemary’s future employers appeared. Helen had been apprehensive about this handoff, but was pleasantly surprised. The McLarens, a short rotund man with a soft, chubby face and his no less well-fed wife, who looked like a doll with her apple-red cheeks and round blue eyes, arrived on foot around eleven o’clock. As it turned out, they owned the Christchurch bakery—the fresh rolls and pastries whose aroma had woken Helen that morning were their doing. Because Mr. McLaren began work before the sun came up and went to bed correspondingly early, Mrs. Baldwin had not wanted to bother the family the day before, informing them instead first thing that morning of the girl’s arrival. They’d closed the shop to come pick Rosemary up.
    “God, she’s still just a child!” Mrs. McLaren marveled when Rosemary curtsied anxiously before her. “And we’ve got to fatten you up, you little bean pole. What’s your name, dear?”
    Mrs. McLaren then turned accusingly to Mrs. Baldwin, who received these complaints without comment. As she began talking to Rosemary, she hunched over amiably and smiled at her.
    “Rosie,” the little girl whispered.
    Mrs. McLaren ruffled her hair. “Now what a pretty name. Rosie, we thought you might like to come live with us and help out a little in the house and kitchen. In the bakery too, of course. Do you like baking cakes, Rosemary?”
    Rosie considered. “I like to eat cake,” she said.
    The McLarens laughed, making a chortling sound while Rosemary responded with a happy twittering.
    “That’s the best place to start!” Mr. McLaren explained seriously. “Only someone who likes to eat can bake well. What do you think, Rosie, will you come with us?”
    Helen breathed a sigh of relief when Rosemary nodded gravely. The McLarens did not seem at all surprised to be welcoming more of a foster child than a servant into their home.
    “I once got to know a youth from an orphanage in London,” Mr. McLaren said, chatting with Helen while his wife helped Rosie pack her things. “My master had asked for a fourteen-year-old who would catch on immediately, and they sent a tot who looked like he was ten. Still, he was an industrious boy. The master’s wife fed him well, and since then he’s become a well-regarded journeyman baker. If our Rosie takes to it like that, we won’t have reason to complain about the costs of bringing her up.” He laughed and placed a little bag of baked goods he had brought along for the girls into Helen’s hand.
    “But distribute them properly, girl,” he exhorted her. “I knew there would certainly be more children, and our Madam Pastor is not exactly known for her generosity.”
    At that, Daphne stuck her hand out hungrily for the pastries. She had clearly not eaten breakfast, at least not a sufficient one. Mary, on the other hand, remained inconsolable and only sobbed more loudly when Rosemary left too.
    Helen decided to try to distract them and informed the girls that she would be holding lessons that day just as she had on the ship. Untilthe girls were with their families, it was better for them to be learning than sitting around doing nothing. In consideration of the fact that they were in a