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“Very well.” Mrs. P took a loud breath. “Will and I have recently taken two young people into our home. Children.”
“My heavens, Mrs. Pershing,” the pastor exclaimed, sounding like he had another biscuit in his mouth. “That is very charitable of you. I had heard that your niece and nephew are visiting; did something happen to one of your relations? It’s not everyone who will step forward to assume such a grave responsibility after a tragedy. Oh, I shouldn’t have said ‘grave.’”
“It’s not—”
“My condolences, of course. Lady Graham’s cousin recently passed away. They say he drowned, but there is some speculation that he was… overly inebriated when he fell into the Thames. Thankfully, he was without issue, and Lady Graham graciously arranged for his funeral. It was quite a lovely ceremony, and very moving, if I say so myself, and of course with no mention of his drinking. How may I assist you, though?”
For a minute nobody said anything. They were probably eating the rest of Mrs. Brubbins’s biscuits. “Yes,” the missus finally said, drawing out the word. “Well, now this is doubly difficult. You were correct earlier, or at least partially so. Will and I have found our… interests diverging somewhat, and I wanted to ask if you had any advice. It’s nothing serious, but I don’t wish it to become so.”
That didn’t make any sense at all. While Father John and his elephant ears started talking about praying and Mrs. P doing her wifely duty, which she probably already did because the house was very clean and the food was the best Rose had ever tasted, she tried to figure it out. Mrs. Pershing had said she meant to ask Father John about any good homes that might want two children. It had been part of the agreement that nobody was going back to an orphanage. But Mrs. P hadn’t asked about that at all. She hadn’t even mentioned the word “orphan,” and that was her and Georgie.
Maybe George would have a better answer, but to Rose it looked like the Pershings had been lying when they’d said they would find a place for them. And if they were lying, then all of this was just about Winnover Hall. Nobody cared about her and George, or their agreement, or if they ended up at a pig farm or an orphanage. Stupid Pershings. She’d been liking it in Gloucestershire. James had the right of it, after all, and she didn’t like that, either. For one time, she wanted to be right.
“Thank you, Father John,” Mrs. Pershing said after a long time. “You’ve been very helpful. And as you already mentioned it, having my niece and nephew here has made me wonder: What do you recommend for children who don’t have a relation willing to take them in?”
Wait. This sounded better. Rose shifted a little, turning her head to where she could just see the grown-ups’ feet. Father John’s were far apart, and Mrs. P’s were close together, a little on her tippy-toes.
“Well, the Church has a plethora of orphanages,” the pastor replied. “Two in Gloucester alone. St. Michael’s has a splendid reputation, or so I’ve heard. Are we speaking of children with no means? Because that does make a difference, of course.”
“They’re hypothetical children, but say they did have an inheritance, or a recurring allowance. Surely there would be somewhere more pleasant for a lively youngster or two.”
“Boarding schools are quite popular, in those instances. There are several for girls in London, and at least one nearby, in Pitchcombe.”
“Is it the practice to separate siblings, then? That seems rather harsh.”
“Unless they can be placed with a family, that’s generally what happens.”
“How do children come to be placed with a family to whom they have no relationship?”
“Well, there are always farmers looking for another hand or two, or millers, or the occasional shopkeeper. If the youngsters have an income or an inheritance, that makes them a bit more palatable. Folk dislike taking on an additional worry, however Godly charity may be.”
“So the children are generally put to work?”
“Everyone must earn their keep. If the children are very wealthy, the Crown would appoint them a guardian, I suppose. Your own niece and nephew aside, children are quite a burden, or so I’m told.”
“Mm-hmm. What about paying a family to take them in and raise them? Has that ever been done?”
“I… Not that I know of, but I don’t see why that wouldn’t suffice, though in a purely hypothetical scenario one would have to find a suitable family rather than one simply after additional funds. If whoever it was paying the youngsters’ way didn’t wish to take them in, that is—which would seem to be the more likely scenario.” He cleared his throat. “Is that what’s afoot here, Mrs. Pershing? Are you looking for someone else to take over the care of your nephew and niece?”
“What? No! My cousin and her husband are alive and well, I assure you. Having them here, though, seeing how… innocent and vulnerable they are, it made me wonder, is all.”
“Understandable. With some effort and God’s blessing, there is still time for you and Mr. Pershing to be, well, blessed with your own.”
“Indeed. And now, I happen to know that Mary Hendersen has been after a cutting of my orange roses. She won’t ask me directly, of course, but if I give you a cutting, would you take it to her?”
“I’d be delighted. I’ve been meaning to call on the Hendersens, anyway, and this will give me the perfect excuse.”
“Follow me, then, and we’ll get the cuttings and a bouquet of fresh autumn roses to go with them.”
The feet shifted, and then walked out of view. When it got quiet, Rose rolled out of the bookshelf, stood up, and dusted off her dress. Mrs. P had asked for some advice, but she hadn’t asked about her and Georgie specifically. And where all the money to pay a family was supposed to come from, Rose had no idea—James had taken all their blunt, nearly fifteen quid now, plus most of the things they could trade for some rhino.
Maybe George could make some sense out of it, because she had no idea what was going on. But she did want to run up to the music room so she could look down into the garden and see how big Father John’s ears were.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
George frowned. “I don’t care about his ears, Rosie.”
“But they were huge!” She fanned her hands out on either side of her head. “I don’t think he can wear a hat.”