Grace's Pictures Read Online Free PDF Page A

room was generous with a fine piece of furniture the woman called a breakfront cabinet at one end and a piano near the front window.
    “We’ve passed the dining room. Evening meals are taken there, but otherwise you can be seated in the kitchen.”
    Grace followed Mrs. Hawkins up the magnificent staircase and then down the hall to a back bedroom. “Eventually you will share this room with another new arrival. But for now, you’re the only boarder the Benevolents have.”
    “Who?”
    “Just a group of friends who banded together to establish Hawkins House. We seek to answer the question ‘Is what I’m doing making life better for others?’ That’s what we want to do, Grace. Help young immigrant girls like you.”
    “The reverend said something like that.”
    “Quite right. I expect we’ll have another girl soon, but until then, you’ll have the room to yourself. I hope you’ll be comfortable here.”
    Grace could barely reply. Like the others in the house, this room was expansive. “Oh, aye. Extremely generous. Thank you.”
    The woman pointed to a door inside the room. “We use this for storage, and there is no wardrobe in here. But you can use this old trunk here at the end of your bed.”
    “Thank you, but I don’t have many things.”
    “You won’t need much. We have everything you’ll need right here.”
    The room seemed chilly, being the upstairs corner bedroom, but Grace was not about to complain. The two beds were plump with quilts. Inviting. And decorated in pastel shades. Such an improvement over the lack of color she’d seen thus far.
    “Let me instruct you about the bath, love.”
    Grace followed the woman out and into the room directly across the hall.
    “So long as the weather’s not too cold for the pipes, you can warm the water downstairs by the coal stove and turn it on here. That will take a few moments, however. It does not happen quickly, but a hot bath is worth it.”
    She watched as Mrs. Hawkins turned one side of the tub faucet and called it hot and the other cold. “Best to leave the cold one alone. Long as I’ve been here, it’s never gotten too hot to need to cool it down.”
    “You haven’t always lived here, Mrs. Hawkins? I mean, since you came from England?”
    “Bought the place after my Harold passed away.” She stood and clasped her hands together. “Hawkins House is a little project of mine, love, with help from my friends.”
    “The Benevolents.”
    “Correct.”
    When they joined Annie in the parlor, Grace sat on the sofa and admired a portrait hanging on the opposite wall. The man in the painting sported a long beard, darker than his hair, and was dressed in a military uniform. Grace pointed. “A handsome man.”
    Mrs. Hawkins rose and crossed the room to the wall where the photograph hung. “My late husband, Harold. He fought bravely for the Union.” Tears glistened in her eyes. “He was a good provider. It’s his prosperity that helps afford us this comfort today, love.”
    “You mean to say he worked to provide for your needs?”
    “Indeed, love. Like most good husbands.”
    “My father drank his earnings at the pub.”
    “Pity. I’m so sorry. Thank the good Lord there are men who take their roles seriously.”
    “Like your Harold?”
    “Like my Harold, love.”
    “’Tis an enchanting photograph. Was that the war where the South fought to secede?”
    “That’s correct. He fought to preserve the Union, love.”
    “Was he . . . ?” She wasn’t sure how to ask.
    “Killed in battle? My, no, thank the good Lord. He passed on a few years back. He was all I had until the Benevolents were formed. That and my girls here are my family now.”
    Grace could not believe her fortune. Never could she haveimagined such people existed. She wanted to believe this was real, but it all felt like a dream.
    Grace examined the photographic image again. Just a bit of shadow on the right side of his face added depth, and the backdrop was soft enough to