But we simplymustthink of a way to prevent Miss Meyer from getting too close to His Grace and his friends.
Chapter 8
Meredith practically leapt out of the coach into the children’s arms. At one point, she thought she would go deaf from their gleeful squeals as they showered her with endless kisses and eagerly welcomed her back to the orphanage. It had only been seven days since she saw them last, but whether it had been seven days or seven years made no difference because she missed them all sorely.
When Joyce and Ma’am Tabitha emerged from the house accompanying some of the younger children, Meredith stood up to greet them each with a kiss.
“Welcome home, dearest!” beamed Ma’am Tabitha.
“Oh, Ma’am! Joyce! It’s so wonderful to see you all again.”
Joyce pulled Meredith in for a one-armed hug—because she was carrying Bill, the youngest child in the home, on her other arm—and squeezed Meredith tight. Once she released Meredith, Ma’am Tabitha declared, “Well, we most certainly can’t stay out here all day. Do come inside, Meredith dear, and tell us all about your first week as governess!”
From the coach, the driver called out, “Miss Meyer, what about Lady Cecilia’s painting? Shall I bring it inside?”
“Oh! Yes, please, Mr. Young.”
Turning to face him, Ma’am Tabitha extended a warm invitation, “And if it suits you, Mr. Young, please do join us for some tea.”
* * *
Sitting on one of the battered armchairs in the parlor with Arthur on her lap and a fresh cup of tea in her hand,Meredith began recounting her entire week while the children listened on in awe. Sitting on the parlor floor, the children oohed and aahed as she described the vast gardens and the pompous furniture.
But I shan’t tell them about the delicious food. That would be cruel.
Arthur tugged on Meredith’s sleeve to get her attention.
“But Mere, what about your students? Do you like them? Are they nice?”
Apparently this was a question of great importance because all of the children leaned forward, seemingly in perfect unison. Affectionately patting Arthur’s little head, Meredith answered.
“I only have one student, dear. I call her Lady Cecilia. I am quite fond of her, and I think she is fond of me. I think if you had the chance to meet her, you would like her, too.”
This statement caused a stir amongst Meredith’s young audience, who began murmuring and whispering to each other at once. It was as though they were deliberating whether or not Lady Cecilia would be an acceptable playmate.
Arthur tugged at Meredith’s sleeve once more.
“Is she nice? Is Lady Cecilia nice?”
“Absolutely. In fact, she is so nice that yesterday she painted a picture for all of you during her watercolor lesson. Mr. Young, if you would be so kind as to pass me Lady Cecilia’s painting.”
The room buzzed with excitement once more as Mr. Young handed the artwork to Meredith. She had to politely ask Arthur to get off of her lap so that she could unroll the paper properly and he reluctantly acquiesced. Standing up, she unfurled the painting.
It was a simple garden scene. Under her painting tutor’s guidance, Lady Cecilia chose a set of bushes and trees next to her cherished reflecting pool as the subject of this piece. However, Lady Cecilia did not elect to include the reflecting pool itself, as she claimed it would be too difficult to portray accurately.
Feeling particularly happy with her creation, Lady Cecilia decided to give it as a gift to the children in the orphanage. Perhaps a renowned art critic would have scoffed at Cecilia’s amateur technique. But to the wide-eyed and welcoming audience in the orphanage, the painting was the most beautiful in the world because it was a gift.
And all at once, the children felt the urge to reciprocate Lady Cecilia’s thoughtful deed.
Peggy—who was one of the older children in the home at ten-and-one years old—jumped up from her place on the parlor floor and turned to the other children, “Everyone, wemustthank Lady Cecilia for her gift. I say we send her some of our drawings as well.”
“But Peggy,” Jasper, one of the nine-year-old boys, objected, “We don’t have any paint.”
Unfazed, Peggy replied, “Pencil drawings will do just fine. We will make up for our lack of paint with the number of drawings we send back!”
But Ma’am Tabitha interrupted the formation of their master plan
“That sounds lovely, Peggy. And I must say, you have quite the talent for rallying people together. However, there’s to be no drawings until after lunch. So all of you wash up while we set up the table. The soup should be ready by now.”
