Elise glanced at Jack as if looking for confirmation. Jack nodded, to the girl’s obvious discomfort.
Whatever awkwardness Elise might have worried about, her concerns were put to rest by Aunt Quinlan’s inability to be surprised or put out by the arrival of an unannounced houseguest. Of course Elise was welcome to stay, and how nice it would be to have her. Mrs. Lee went off straightaway to make sure Sophie’s old room was ready, Mr. Lee took her valises up, and the little Russo girls did cartwheels of joy to see her again. The news that she wasn’t going away again anytime soon had them hatching plans. They waited impatiently through an impromptu family meeting over tea where the adults discussed practicalities, and then they pounced. Elise must have the grand tour, without delay.
“Do not run that young lady off her feet,” Mrs. Lee called after them. “She’s had a long day.”
But Anna was less worried. It seemed to her that Rosa and Lia would provide the perfect introduction to a usual household.
? ? ?
ELISE HAD NO objections to being dragged off by the Russo sisters. They dashed up to an attic filled with boxes and crates and trunks, each one full of treasure, Lia assured her, and worked their way down, floor by floor. She was firm in her unwillingness to be shown personal rooms other than the one they shared. They wanted her to admire the pretty quilt on the bed, the view out the window, the cushions on the window seat, the wardrobe filled with neat piles of little girls’ clothes. She complimented Lia’s dolls and Rosa’s first attempts at needlework. Then they were off again to see the bathrooms and the wondrous plumbing—they still could not fathom the miracle of water, hot or cold, at the turn of a tap, and the toilet was to them a magical convenience. Elise admitted that she was almost as unfamiliar as they were with this invention, which won her a fierce smile from Rosa. She had passed some test without realizing how closely she was being examined.
Back downstairs she saw the little parlor, the dining room, the main parlor, the kitchen and pantry. They would have shown her the cellar, too, but Mrs. Lee put a stop to that plan. In the garden she admired the neat rows of beanpoles, the cabbage and carrot and turnip plantings, the apple and pear trees, the flower garden already full of color and bees hard at work. They were especially proud of the enclosed porch they called a pergola, with its reclining couch and chairs and table.
She was not spared the stable or the little cottage where Mr. and Mrs. Lee lived, or even the henhouse, where she was introduced to eight setting hens and a rooster who demanded respect and distance both, she was told. Elise might have explained that she had grown up on a farm and knew all about roosters, but it gave them such joy to instruct her, she kept her silence except to make encouraging sounds.
There was a short debate on whether they should take her to a place they called Weeds. Before Elise could ask for clarification she was hurried through a rounded wooden door set in the garden wall into another garden, this one bare except for ancient grapevines over a collapsing trellis, a small greenhouse engulfed in ivy, and a few apple and holly trees. The soil had been recently turned, and the smells of compost and manure were strong in the air. The girls pulled her into another house that was being made over for Dr. Savard and the detective sergeant, this one stripped down to its bones as the garden had been. They showed her every room, with colorful commentary about how many children would fit into the bedrooms; the new bathtub, as big as a pond; the lace at the windows; and neat stacks of sheets and towels in the linen closet.
By the time they got back to Roses—now Elise had caught on to the Weeds and Roses names—dinner was on the table, and her stomach gave a terrific growl that made the girls first startle and then laugh with delight. Even at the table they were full of life and talk and stories, very different little girls from the ones she had first met in Hoboken and cared for at the orphanage. They weren’t scolded for their talkativeness, Elise thought, because their silence was inevitable, secured by the combination of healthy appetites and good food on the table.
There was a soup thick with dumplings and a roast of pork, pickled red cabbage and potatoes mashed with butter and milk which they were instructed to enjoy because, Mrs. Lee told them, there would be no more until the new crop of spuds came in late in the summer. The garden was the topic of conversation for a good time and Elise took her part in the discussion, but she also had the distinct idea that they were all holding back, waiting for her to catch her breath and volunteer the stories they hesitated to ask for.