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“Because I miss my mother dreadfully.” Madalene blinked back her tears, knowing it was not the time to display such emotions.
“There is no shame in that,” Mrs. Foster reassured her. “It has only been six months since your mother passed away. You must give yourself time to properly grieve.”
“Will the pain ever cease?” Madalene asked, bringing her gaze back up to meet her companion’s.
A look of anguish came into Mrs. Foster’s eyes. “The pain will never go away, but it will fade with time. At least, that is how it is for me with my dear George.”
“I am sorry for bringing it up.”
“Nonsense,” Mrs. Foster said. “I enjoy speaking about George. In my opinion, it helps keep his memory alive.”
Before Madalene could respond, the coach came to a jerky stop in front of a large two-level brick building. A sign hanging above the door read Elizabeth Dowding School for Orphan Girls.
The coach dipped to the side as the footman left his perch and came to put the step down. After it was extended, he opened the door and reached into the coach to assist them onto the pavement.
“Would you care for me to announce you, Miss Dowding?” the footman asked as he released her hand.
“That won’t be necessary, but I thank you kindly.”
The footman tipped his head before he took a step back.
Madalene stood in front of the building and admired it. The red bricks may have started to fade, but new windows had been installed, and the main door had received a fresh coat of paint.
Mrs. Foster came to stand next to her. “Your mother would be proud of you and your accomplishments,” she said.
“Do you suppose so?” Madalene asked as she offered her companion a side glance.
“I do,” Mrs. Foster replied. “What you have done here is no small feat.”
“I just wanted to find a way to honor my mother’s legacy.”
“And I believe you have succeeded,” Mrs. Foster responded, glancing over at her.
“I hope so.”
The door to the orphanage opened and the plump housekeeper, Mrs. Kipper, appeared in the doorway. “Please come in,” she encouraged, ushering them inside. “You don’t need to stand on the pavement and risk getting pickpocketed.” She glanced up and down the street with a disapproving look on her face. “There are street urchins all about who are always up to no good.”
Madalene stepped into the building and stopped in the small, tastefully decorated entry hall.
“The headmistress has been expecting a visit from you,” Mrs. Kipper said once she’d closed the door behind them. “If you would please follow me, I will show you to her study.”
As they followed the housekeeper down a narrow hallway, Madalene could hear their booted steps echo off the tile floor. “Is it always this quiet in the orphanage?”
Mrs. Kipper laughed as she responded over her shoulder, “Heavens, no. It can get quite boisterous with twenty girls afoot. But the girls are currently receiving their lessons.”
Mrs. Foster spoke up. “What lessons are they receiving?”
“We teach the girls skills they need to find employment after they leave the orphanage, such as needlework,” Mrs. Kipper explained. “Furthermore, we educate them and train them in household business, thus enhancing their opportunities for obtaining a job.”
“What a blessing that is for them,” Mrs. Foster acknowledged.
“I agree,” Mrs. Kipper said as she stopped at a closed door and knocked before she proceeded to open it.
Madalene stepped into the square-shaped room as the blonde haired, petite headmistress rose from her desk to greet them. She was wearing a pomona gown with a high neckline, and her hair was pulled back into a tight chignon at the base of her neck.
“Sorry to disturb you, Miss Hardy, but Miss Dowding and Mrs. Foster have come to visit,” the housekeeper announced, clasping her hands together.
Miss Hardy smiled. “It is good to see you again, Madalene,” she said in a warm and inviting tone. “How have you been?”
