Cara pulled back and looked at her with bright blue eyes. She was the only one of the three sisters who had inherited their mother’s coloring. “You needn’t take that tone with me, dear sister. I’m visiting London with the Needenhams, and naturally I took advantage of the opportunity to come and see you.”
The mention of Cara’s employers in the present tense immediately relieved Julia. “So you are still working as a nursery maid?”
A brief flash of hurt crossed her sister’s eyes, and Julia was immediately sorry she’d asked the question in such a negative way.
But true to Cara’s mercurial nature, the look was quickly gone, and her warm smile returned. “How could I possibly leave the Needenhams? They would be in dire straits indeed. I am now officially the nanny. Little Robbie is four years old now. Such a handful! But he always does what I tell him to do.” She smiled. “Eventually, that is. I certainly have a better time of managing him than anyone else.”
This assessment was given with a toss of her head. Julia considered this little display of pride acceptable as satisfaction in a job well done.
“More than once, I can assure you, Lady Needenham has told me she would be absolutely lost without me,” Cara continued.
“And yet, here you are.” Julia could not help teasing her.
“Getting away from the house wasn’t easy. They will only be in London for two weeks. Miss Sarah Needenham—that’s Sir John’s daughter from his first marriage—is to be presented in court next week! So naturally they’ve come to town early in order to get her fitted up with exactly the best gown, suitable to the occasion and positively the height of fashion.”
Cara sounded like she was reading aloud from one of the ladies’ magazines she devoured at every opportunity. Julia had long ago despaired of ever getting her to read something useful.
“I’m sorry to say that we’ll be going away again as soon as that’s over. Miss Needenham will remain for the rest of the Season, though. She’s staying with her aunt and uncle. But I must return with the Needenhams and little Robbie. Sir John absolutely detests London.”
Sir John Needenham, baronet, preferred to spend most of his time at his large estate near Exeter. That had been a plus in Julia’s eyes when Cara had gained the position of nursery maid there. Julia thought quiet country living would keep Cara safe and out of trouble. She was fascinated by big city life, the “mode,” and everything else associated with wealth. Things Julia knew her sister was likely never to acquire.
“So how did you get the day off? I can’t imagine Lady Needenham wants to have her toddler in tow when taking her stepdaughter to the dressmaker’s shop.”
“I’ll tell you all about it. But as I only have this one day to myself, may we go for a walk? This is my first time in London, and I want to see as much of the city as I can!”
Julia thought about the myriad things she was supposed to be doing today. She was far too busy to spend an afternoon strolling around London sightseeing. And yet it was good to see her sister again. They could rarely spend time together. Cara was brimming with excitement, practically bouncing on her toes, and Julia knew she’d be an ogre to refuse the request.
“All right. But I need to arrange a few things first. It won’t take long.”
Cara followed Julia upstairs and offered lavish praise for her bedroom. Although it was small, it nonetheless boasted a writing desk and a window. Cara assured her it was nicer than the “little garret” she occupied at the Needenhams’ town home. She then alternated between sitting on the bed and rising again to look out the window at the street below, plying Julia with questions about life in London. Julia tried to answer them while she penned a few hasty notes. Her sister’s impulsiveness often had a way of changing other people’s plans without notice, but Julia was still glad to see her.
As Julia sealed up the notes, Cara looked over her shoulder. “What’s this?” she asked, reaching out to pick up Michael Stephenson’s calling card. It had been lying on the desk next to Julia’s Latin textbook. With a look of distaste, Cara added, “Is that blood?”
“That is a card of the man I helped on the Underground after the accident.”
Julia had told Cara about the accident in a letter, although she’d left out the more gruesome aspects. Cara was getting a hint of them now.
Cara scrunched up her nose. “This seems a rather odd memento.”
Julia took the card from her and set it aside. “We’d better get going if you want to see London.”
Soon they were walking in the direction of Regent Street. Cara, unsurprisingly, wanted to window shop at the elegant stores that lined the famous avenue. Despite her stated desire to see as much of the city as she could, she wasn’t moving very quickly. She was gawking at everything, from the elegant town homes to ordinary streetlamps. It was at one of these lamps that Cara paused, studying the wrought-iron designs around its top.
She sighed. “I wish we were staying longer. Some families remain in London for the entire Season. What heaven that would be!”
“And here I thought you would grow to enjoy the country.”
“Oh, it’s pleasant enough. I am even able to do some sketching while I’m outside with Robbie. But the city is more fascinating. How I would love to paint some scenes here!”
“Not everything in London is beautiful or picturesque,” Julia said, thinking of the times she’d gone to the slums with Edith.
“It doesn’t have to be picturesque, only interesting. Don’t you love living here?”
Worried this train of thought might feed into Cara’s more dangerous impulses, such as leaving her employment, Julia tried for a different tack. “So who is minding little Robbie? Or is he spending the day with his mother after all?”
Her interest in the streetlamp fading, Cara turned away, and the two of them began walking again. “I was able to persuade Aileen, the parlor maid, to do it. She has a soft spot for the lad. The rest of the family has been invited to spend two days in Kent at the home of a marquess. I believe there’s talk of marriage between Miss Needenham and the marquess’s younger son. He’s handsome as well as rich, and he and Miss Needenham struck up quite a friendship when their families were introduced to each other at the Derby last year.”
“You sound like a family confidante rather than the nanny.”
“Miss Needenham may have spoken to me about it once or twice. We are just about the same age, you know.” Cara sighed. “At times, I feel positively like Cinderella.”
“At least you are not stuck in a corner among the ashes,” Julia pointed out. “Here’s Regent Street. You will have plenty of fine clothes and other items to ogle in this place.”
Cara surveyed the scene with childlike joy. Finely dressed ladies walked along the sidewalk, several of them followed by footmen bearing their parcels. Others were seated in carriages, waiting as merchants brought out goods for their inspection.
As Julia looked at these women, she could only think that spending so much time and effort simply to acquire another set of gloves or a new hat—even supposing she could afford such things—seemed a colossal waste of time.
And yet Cara’s thoughts were clearly running in a different vein. She pointed toward a shop several doors down from where they stood. “Is that a millinery shop? We must go there first!”
Later, after they’d looked into every shop on Regent Street, they walked south toward Green Park. They paused when they reached the square in front of Buckingham Palace to admire its imposing edifice.
“One day, I will go into that building,” Cara announced.
The audacity of her statement surprised even Julia. “You will go to Buckingham Palace? Her Majesty is long past needing a nursery maid.”
“Oh, I shan’t go as a servant. I shall be a guest of Her Majesty. Or perhaps I shall be presented at a royal levee, just like Miss Needenham.”
The idea was so outlandish that Julia didn’t even try to contradict it. She said merely, “Shall we find a place to take tea?�
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They found a little restaurant where they could get a cup of tea and some biscuits for a reasonable price. Julia would have preferred something more substantial, but her budget wouldn’t allow it. Cara had less than a shilling, which was all the cash she’d had on her when suddenly presented with the opportunity to take the day off.
“Where shall we go next?” Cara asked when they had finished their tea and were back out on the street.
“Don’t you need to get back to your employer?” Julia asked.
“Not just yet. Aileen knew this was my only opportunity to see you, so she assured me she would be happy to watch Robbie until after his supper. But I must be home to put him to bed, as he won’t go to sleep for just anyone.”
“I should think the Needenhams would be put out if their maid neglects her other duties.”
Cara waved away that notion. “Sir John never troubles himself about domestic matters, and Lady Needenham is too caught up in everything relating to Miss Needenham’s presentation to notice if the parlor didn’t get dusted this one day. She dotes on Sarah as completely as if she were her own child. Of course, she brought her up from the age of ten, so that’s understandable.” She wrapped her arm through Julia’s as they walked. “How I should love to go to the National Gallery! But I read in a tourist guidebook of Lady Needenham’s that it is not open on Thursdays and Fridays except by special application.”
“Have you developed a taste for fine art, then?” Julia knew Cara had a talent for drawing but hadn’t properly considered that it would lead to an interest in studying the great painters.
“Oh yes! I have seen a few works here and there by the masters. But to be in a whole gallery devoted to them would be heaven.”
“I know just the thing,” Julia announced. “There is a gallery at the Foundling Hospital.”
“That’s a wonderful idea! I heard there are paintings by Hogarth, Reynolds, and Gainsborough.”
Julia was not familiar with the painters Cara mentioned, but she had been wanting to pay a visit to the Foundling Hospital. Having been raised in an orphanage, she was curious to visit this one. “It’s a bit of a walk, though. We’ll have to go quickly, no dawdling.”
It would have been faster to take an omnibus or the Underground, but since today they were doing the free tour, they would have to use their feet for transportation. They made good time, however. Cara’s excitement to see the gallery apparently outweighed everything else.
When they reached the gates of the Foundling Hospital, the porter located one of the headmistresses there, who would serve as their guide. It did not take long for them to see that this was a very different place from George Müller’s orphanage. Physically, it consisted of three large buildings surrounded by a high wall. Julia couldn’t help but compare it to the five orphan homes built by Mr. Müller in Bristol, each surrounded by open fields. They learned from their guide that to be accepted here, a child must be less than a year old and illegitimate, except in the case of having a father who’d been killed in military service.
Several important painters had been patrons of the institution, which was the reason for the art gallery. Cara moved among the paintings at her own pace, passing some quickly, and lingering at others. “I like the portraits best,” she told Julia, “especially the ones that truly capture the essence of the person’s soul. That’s what I want to do. I want to paint someone in such a way that the viewer has an immediate sense of what that person is like—whether good or bad, lively or languid.”
“I see you’ve put a lot of thought into this,” Julia said.
“Why shouldn’t I? Anything worth doing is worth doing well. I’m sure you feel that way about your studies, don’t you?”
Julia couldn’t argue with that.
After a while, their guide informed them the gallery was closing for the day. “I hope you can come back sometime to hear the children’s choir,” she said. “They sing like angels.”
As they returned to the main gate, they passed two long rows of children walking toward the dining hall for supper. The children were quiet and seemed intent on staying in line and getting to their destination. They hardly gave Julia and Cara a passing glance. One poor boy was being harassed by a larger boy in line behind him, who kept poking at his back and making snide remarks about his shorter stature.
“Do you suppose those are two of the boys who sing like angels?” Julia whispered.
She meant it as a joke, but Cara looked troubled. “How terrible. I don’t think the children here are as happy as we were.”
“I believe you’re right. I’ve heard they’re not allowed to speak at meals. Not one word, or they get punished. You, my dear sister, would not have survived a week.”
Cara responded to this gentle dig with a smile, but Julia could see she was still distressed.
Once they were out of the gate, Cara said, “I’m glad we came here today, and not simply to view the paintings. When I first read about the fine works of art here, I was a little envious. We had nothing on the walls except for a few religious aphorisms at Ashley Down, but I wouldn’t trade growing up there for here. Not for the world.”
They walked on in silence, and Julia supposed they were both sending up silent prayers of gratitude for having—in the absence of their parents, which would have been best of all—a childhood home that had at least some warmheartedness.
As they walked, the modest brick building of the London School of Medicine for Women came into view. “I will begin my studies there in October,” Julia informed her. “Would you like to see the inside?”
Cara’s steps slowed. “It depends on what kind of medical things are in there.”
“There are rows and rows of tall glass jars with pickled body parts.” Julia spoke with dramatic and macabre emphasis. “Hearts and brains and eyeballs.”
Cara gave her a shove. “Stop trying to scare me.”
Julia laughed. “All right then, come on.”
But they hadn’t gone much farther before a carriage stopped right in front of them. Inside sat Edith Morton. Sam, the little boy from Bethnal Green, sat next to her, his dirty face smeared with tears.
“Julia, I’m glad to see you,” Edith said breathlessly. “Sam says Sybil is having terrible pains. I think she must be going into labor sooner than we expected. Will you come with us?”
“Yes, of course,” Julia replied. She turned to Cara. “This is an emergency. I have already promised to help this lady with her delivery, so I must go. I’m sorry to cut short our visit.”
“I’ll go with you,” Cara offered.
“Dearest, that’s not a good idea. It is likely to be—” Julia stopped. She was going to say unpleasant, but a quick look at Sam prevented her. She did not want to stoke his fears. “That is, we’ll be busy, and it may take some time. Do you think you can find your way back to the Needenhams’ residence?”
“You know I’ll never find my way alone. Can’t I go with you, and you can take me home afterward?”
“Please, we must hurry!” Sam begged. “Ma was yelling, and nobody knows what to do for her!”
“There is no time to be lost,” Edith said. “Who is this?”
“This is my sister Cara. She’s visiting me for the afternoon.”
“I want to go,” Cara said firmly, her natural sense of adventure beginning to outweigh any hesitation over being involved with medical things. “Maybe I can help.”
Julia was torn. Seeing her indecision, Edith said, “Perhaps she can ride with us and then take the cab home from there. I’ll pay the fee if cost is an issue.”
It did seem like the best option. Julia relented, although she still had misgivings as they got into the carriage and raced toward Bethnal Green.
CHAPTER
16
AS THE CAB MADE ITS WAY along the dingy streets, Cara soothed the crying boy. “You mustn’t be too alarmed,” she told him. “My sister will make sure everything turns out all right.”
Soon Cara had managed
to calm him down. She even taught him a little game with hand motions. As the two became absorbed in this, Edith looked over their heads at Julia. “She has a knack for working with children.”
Julia nodded. That had always been one of Cara’s strongest traits. She knew how to speak to small children in a manner they would listen to and accept.
The carriage stopped at the run-down tenement. Edith was the first to get out, and she held out her hand to Sam. “Come along.”
But Sam turned to Cara. “Are you coming, too?”
He said it with such hopefulness that Cara seemed at a loss. She looked from Sam to the filthy street outside. She had been so caught up in playing with him that this seemed to be the first time she truly noted their dismal surroundings. Her nose crinkled at the smell of refuse. Somewhere a dog barked, and a baby was crying. Two men lounging at the door glowered at the cab, their interest in the strangers tempered by mistrust.
Even the cab driver was beginning to look uneasy.
“I must go,” Cara said to Sam. “You see, there is another little boy waiting for me—”
Sam clung ferociously to her hand. “Please!”
They seemed to be at an impasse. Then, from inside the building, a woman let out a scream of pain.
“It’s Sybil,” Edith said. “Her contractions must have started.” Evidently deciding the boy was safe with Cara, she hurried into the building to address the greater emergency.
Still seated in the carriage with her sister, Julia tried to decide what to do. She needed to help Edith, but she could not leave Cara here.
“Make up your minds, then,” the driver said gruffly, sending another worried glance at the two unsavory men by the door. “Stay in or get out, but this cab is leaving.”
Another child wandered out of the building, a little girl barely old enough to walk. She looked dazed.
“Jemmie!” cried Sam. He tugged at Cara, pulling her out of the carriage with him. He led her over to the little girl. “Jemmie, don’t cry.” Just having Cara with him seemed to give him the strength to comfort his sister.
The Heart's Appeal Page 16
