In the Land of the Long White Cloud

talking with a pastor?
    Helen, too, was quiet. She wondered why Chester did not express similar praise for Howard; besides, she could not get Laurie and Mary’s crying out of her head. She was worried about the remaining girls, who were still awaiting their employers in the stables. It didn’t even help that she had already seen Rosemary again. The little girl had appeared giggling at the parsonage in the afternoon, feeling extremely important with a basketful of pastries. This commission was her first assignment from Mrs. McLaren, and she was extremely proud to carry it out to everyone’s satisfaction.
    “Rosie sounds happy,” Gwyneira said happily, having heard about the girl’s visit.
    “If only the others had been so well placed.”
    Under the pretext of needing some fresh air, Helen accompanied her friend outside after tea. The two women went for a stroll through the town’s relatively wide streets and were finally able to talk openly. Helen almost lost her composure when, with tears in her eyes, she told Gwyneira about Mary and Laurie.
    “And I don’t get the feeling that they’ll get over it,” she finished. “True, time is supposed to heal all wounds, but in this case…I think it will kill them, Gwyn! They’re just so young. And I can’t stand to look at those bigoted Baldwins anymore. The reverend could certainly have done something for the girls. They keep a waiting list of families looking for servants. Surely they could have found two housesnext to each other. Instead, they’ve sent Mary to this Willard family where the little thing is certain to be overwhelmed. Seven children, Gwyneira! And an eighth on the way. Mary’s even supposed to help as a midwife.”
    Gwyneira sighed. “If only I’d been there. Perhaps Mr. Warden could do something. Kiward Station no doubt needs servants. And I need a chambermaid. Just look at my hair—that’s what happens when I put it up myself.”
    Gwyneira did look a little wild.
    Helen smiled through her tears, steering them back toward the Baldwins’ house. “Come along,” she invited Gwyneira. “Daphne can put your hair in order. And if no one else turns up for her or Dorothy, maybe you should speak with Mr. Warden. What will you bet the Baldwins will comply if he asks for Daphne or Dorothy?”
    Gwyneira nodded. “And you could take the other,” she suggested. “A proper household needs a maid; your Howard should see that. We just need to decide between ourselves who gets Dorothy and who has to put up with Daphne’s cheeky mouth.”
    Before she could propose settling this question with a game of blackjack, they reached the parsonage, in front of which stood a coach. Helen realized her lovely plan could hardly become a reality. In the yard, Mrs. Baldwin was already chatting with an elderly couple while Daphne waited quietly off to the side. The girl looked like a paragon of virtue. Her dress was spotless and Helen had rarely seen her hair so primly and properly pinned up. Daphne must have done herself up especially for her meeting with her employers; apparently, she had asked about the people ahead of time. Her appearance seemed to particularly impress the woman, who was simply and neatly dressed herself. From beneath her small, unobtrusive hat decorated with a tiny veil, calm brown eyes in a bright face looked out. Her smile seemed open and friendly, and she obviously could not believe how perfectly chance had brought her and her new maid together. “We just came from Haldon the day before yesterday, and we wanted to set off again yesterday already. But then my tailor still had a few alterations to make to my order, and I said to Richard: let’s stay and spoil ourselves witha dinner at the hotel. Richard was very excited when he heard from all the interesting people who had just arrived on the
Dublin
, and we had a very stimulating evening. And how lucky that Richard had the idea to ask straightaway about our girl here!” As the lady spoke, her features lit up, and she occasionally used her hands to emphasize a point. Helen thought her very nice. Richard, her husband, appeared more sedate, but just as friendly and good-tempered.
    “Miss Davenport, Lady Silkham—Mr. and Mrs. Candler.” Mrs. Baldwin introduced them, interrupting Mrs. Candler’s endless monologue. “Miss Davenport accompanied the girls during the passage. She can tell you more about Daphne than I can. So I’ll simply leave her now to your care and go look for the