Page 60 of The Good Fortune of Miss Robbins

“Mrs. Drake, they are children. They are not vermin.”

“Well, then, the cast-off, disorderly children no one wants.”

“They need someone to look after them and provide for them. And if my parents had not been able to provide for me, I might have ended up on the street.”

Mrs. Drake huffed out a breath and crossed her arms over herchest. “You are much too innocent for London, Miss Robbins. Much too innocent, but you are not prudent. Next thing we know you’ll be inviting a band of gypsies to dine with us.”

“Mrs. Drake.”

“Forgive me.” She held out her hands in a gesture of surrender. “I shall say no more. But I want you to remember that I was against this scheme from the beginning.”

The only servant who seemed at all happy with my new guests was a motherly kitchen servant named Gretchen, so I elevated her to the position of nursemaid, to help with caring for the children, since the upstairs maid looked horrified when I asked her to watch them a moment while I went to order them a bath drawn.

“You may leave the young ones to me, miss,” Gretchen said. “I had two of my own. They’re grown now, but I remember well the days when they were the age of these ones.”

“Thank you, Gretchen. Please come directly to me if you need anything or have any concerns.”

“Yes, miss, I will.”

It was impossible to explain, but when I thought about the children sleeping in a bed under my own roof, and when I watched them eat heartily, as if they thought the food might disappear at any moment, my heart filled with love, and I couldn’t stop the smile spreading over my face and the tears stinging my eyes.

Perhapsthiswas why God had been so good to me, so good as to give me a fortune. It was so I could help these children. And perhaps I could use this situation to show Mrs. Drake and Millicent that orphaned children were not to be feared and shunned. They were human beings who needed kindness. After all, God asked us to care for the fatherless and widows in their affliction.

I couldn’t help but contrast Sarah and Joshua with Samuel and Annabelle. They were similar in many ways, but Sarah and Joshua were quiet and humble, eyes wide nearly all the time, watchful and cautious. Samuel and Annabelle were also orphans, but their situation made them more confident and often a bit unruly, as they hadno fear that necessities, and even kindness, would be withheld from them if they misbehaved or didn’t show gratitude.

I spent some time the next day seeing how much my new wards knew. Sarah knew her letters and numbers but nothing much beyond, and Joshua had no schooling at all. I spent some time reading to them, but they were only able to pay attention for a short while. So I played a game with them. I hid some wooden blocks, which I’d sent the footman to town to buy, under three bowls I borrowed from the kitchen. Then I moved them around on the table. When Joshua tried to guess which bowl had the most blocks, I lifted the bowl and showed him he was wrong. He laughed out loud.

“Can I try?” he asked. He only had the use of one hand, as the physician had splinted his broken arm and wrapped it to twice its normal size.

“You can’t, Josh. Your arm.” Sarah pointed to his injured limb.

“I can do it. Turn your back. Don’t look.”

So Sarah and I turned our backs to him while he moved the bowls around with his one good hand.

“Now choose,” he said, after prompting us to turn toward him again. “Which one has the most blocks?”

We played the game for several more minutes, with me asking them questions like, “How many blocks are under this bowl? Is that more than the other bowl, or fewer? How many more? How many fewer?” We counted blocks until they grew tired of that game, then I let them look out the window at the people passing on the street. They entered a lively discussion about the ladies and gentlemen, horses and carriages passing below.

I left them to Gretchen’s care when I thought I heard a knock at the front door, and soon the servant announced Lord Brookhaven.

Mrs. Drake, Millicent, and I received him in the sitting room. A picture of him carrying Joshua flashed through my mind, his cravat missing from his neck and tied around Joshua’s arm.

We exchanged the usual pleasantries, then he said, “How is the little fellow?”

“He is well. The broken arm hasn’t slowed him down much, although he barely moved yesterday after we brought him home. He slept ten hours, and this morning he was much better, I think.”

Lord Brookhaven smiled. His smiles were so rare, they were all the more pleasant.

“I am glad he’s doing well. And glad he found such a kind and good friend in you, Miss Robbins.”

Mrs. Drake made ahmphsound, then disguised it with a small cough into her handkerchief.

Lord Brookhaven’s gaze did not stray from mine as he said, “I heard from one of my servants that some are not very happy with your inviting two homeless street children into your home.”

“Well, I am very happy that I did.” I smirked back at Lord Brookhaven, trying to look as though I could not have cared less what other people thought.

I was actually trying to watch, out of the corner of my eye, Mrs. Drake’s reaction to my words. I needed to seem utterly confident in my decision—and indeed, I was confident that it was the right thing, and as I said, it made me very happy. But I also preferred that Mrs. Drake not quit my employ in disgust. She simply didn’t understand Christian charity the way I did. At least, that’s what I was telling myself.