Clarissa heard her father say, “I’m off to London this afternoon. I’ll dump the brat in the first orphan asylum I come to.”
The two girls exchanged glances.An orphan asylum? Clarissa had heard about them. Betty, the little maid of all work, had come from an orphan asylum, and every time she made a mistake—even a small one—she was terrifiedshe’d be sent back. Papa was going to put this girl—her sister?—in one of those places?
Suddenly she knew what to do. She grabbed the girl’s hand. “Quick, come with me. I’ll hide you.”
Hand in hand the two little girls took to their heels, running like rabbits to Clarissa’s favorite place in all the world—the old walled garden.
“What are y—” The girl gasped as Clarissa dragged open a rusty gate set into a high brick wall and thrust her through it. She followed and pulled it closed after her. “What is this place?” the girl asked, looking around her in bemusement.
“Nobody ever comes here,” Clarissa panted. “They won’t look for us here—it’s my secret place. Nobody even knows the gates are unlocked. I found the key last summer. Come this way, where we can sit down and talk.” She led the girl to a circular arbor over which pink roses flowed in a tangled waterfall of color and fragrance. Inside, a wooden bench was set around the walls. It was a perfect hidey-hole.
The girls sat, breathing in the scent of roses and gazing at each other in silence. Clarissa had just one thought in her head—could this girl really be her sister? She so wanted her to be. She had always longed for a sister. “What’s your name?” she asked.
“Izzy. Isobel, really, but Mama always calls—called me Izzy.”
Clarissa eyed Izzy’s black clothing. “Is your mama...?”
“Dead, yes. That man, my uncle”—Izzy jerked her head in the direction of the house—“I met him for the first time today. He came to Mama’s funeral and told me he was Mama’s brother and that I was leaving.”
“Leaving where?”
“Home. Mama and I live—lived in a little cottage on the outskirts of the village. I didn’t even know she had a brother. Or that I had a father. Oh, I knew people called me a bastard, but I always thought a bastard was a person whodidn’t have a father—and I didn’t have a father. But he—my uncle—said I was my father’s responsibility. And so he brought me here.” She eyed Clarissa cautiously. “Do you really think we’re sisters?”
Clarissa thought about everything they’d overheard. “Yes. I don’t look like Papa—everyone says I take after my mother—but you, you look like Papa, except for being a girl. You have his eyes and his hair and—”
“Hishair?” Izzy tugged a long spiral of dark hair. “This horrid stuff?”
“Horrid? I think your hair is beautiful. Like elf locks. In fact, for a moment when I first saw you, I thought you might be an elf... but you’re not, are you?” Izzy had an elfin look about her, with her pointy chin and wide green eyes and the tumble of dark, silky corkscrew curls. Clarissa had to spend an uncomfortable night with her hair in rags to get even half that number of curls.
“No, I’m not an elf.”
“I’ve never seen an elf,” Clarissa said sadly.
“Me neither. Though I wouldn’t mind being one if I could do magic.”
“Yes, and I’d be one, too. Or maybe a fairy. Wouldn’t that be fun?”
“Yes! I could turn my uncle into a toad,” Izzy said, and they both laughed.
After a moment, Izzy sighed. “What are we going to do? I can’t stay hiding here forever.”
“Not forever, but for a while,” Clarissa said. A plan was forming in her mind. “I’ll have to go now—Nanny will be missing me—but I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Izzy glanced around the deserted garden. “But what will I do? They’ll be looking for me.”
Clarissa nodded. “I know, but they won’t think to look in here. And Papa has very little patience, so he’ll end up leaving everything to the servants as he usually does. He was about to leave for London when your uncle’s carriagearrived, so he’ll probably go soon anyway. And you can leave the servants to me.” She grinned. It was just like an adventure in a story. “Are you hungry? I’ll bring you some food later if I can, but you must hide here until it’s safe. Then I’ll come and fetch you.”
Izzy frowned. “And then what?”
Clarissa hesitated. “Wearesisters, aren’t we?”
Izzy nodded. “I think we must be.”
Clarissa had prayed for a sister all her life, but she needed to be sure. “Yes, but do youwantto be my sister? It’s quite lonely here,” she added honestly. “There’s only the servants, and most of them are old. And I’m not allowed to play with the village children.”
Izzy pulled a face. “Where I come from the village children are not allowed to play with me.”
“Why not?”
