Читать книгу Through the Shadows - Karen Barnett - Страница 12

Chapter 5

5

Charles sat at a desk in the corner, oblivious to the people conversing nearby. For all of his uncle’s talk about a rising star, Charles still merited little more than the cluttered desk of a junior attorney. He gulped down the last mouthful of coffee, the taste of the tepid brew not even registering as he flipped through the stack of legal briefs. He scratched down notes on a pad. How many questions could he ask before people pinned him as a fraud?

The words swam before his weary eyes. Charles dropped the papers into a stack and pressed the heels of his hands against his brow. He’d thought law school would prepare him for the job, but he’d learned more in the past six hours than during the last term at college. At least he’d only be observing during tomorrow’s cases. Perhaps after watching the other attorneys in action, he’d figure out the appropriate dance steps.

Uncle Silas and the other senior partner—Ambrose McClintock—had already gone home for the evening, but most other desks were lit, heads bowed over stacks of papers and books. Charles leaned back in his chair and glanced about. Didn’t anyone ever leave? A throbbing ache built behind his temples.

Charles swiveled the wooden chair and gazed at the man seated at an identical desk behind him. The heavy-set young fellow had slumped forward, bracing his forehead against his hands, elbows propped on the desk. With fingers hooded before his eyes, it was impossible to know if he was staring at the stack of paper or dozing.

“Excuse me?” Charles tapped the front of the desk.

The clerk jerked upright, a glazed expression on his face. “Ye-yes?”

Charles choked back a laugh. “I’m sorry. I’m new today, and I was just curious—how late does everyone stay?”

The man glanced around at the other desks. “Well, at least until all the partners leave. And Spencer—he’s the senior attorney, next up to be partner. You don’t want to be seen leaving before any of them.” He wiped a huge hand across his face as if to remove any spittle from his chin. “And you’ve got to wait for the lead attorney working on your case. After that, it just depends on how much you still have to do. But it’s important to look industrious, even if you finished up hours before.”

Charles grinned. “Is that what you’re doing?”

“I’ll never be finished. I’m the most junior man here—well, until you arrived, that is. Name’s Henry Thurber. What’s yours?” He stuck out his hand.

Charles shook it, the friendly welcome bringing a sense of ease. “Charles. Charles McKinley.”

Henry’s eyes grew large behind the round spectacles. “You’re the golden nephew!”

The serenity vanished like steam from a mirror. “Just because I share a last name with a partner doesn’t mean I’m anything special.”

“I beg your pardon, but I must disagree.” Henry straightened, running a quick hand down his shirt front and adjusting his tie. “That’s not what I heard. Talk in the office is your uncle’s got you on a quick road to partnership. No wonder everyone’s working so late today. They’re all waiting for you to go home.”

“For me? Whatever for?”

“You’re the next in line. What are you doing out here with the commoners?”

“This is my desk.” Charles studied the room again, noticing the furtive glances in his direction. “Is that unusual?”

Henry’s countenance relaxed a hair. He lowered his voice, leaning forward so only Charles could hear. “The old man’s got to keep up appearances, I suppose. Can’t move you to the private offices too soon. Wouldn’t be seemly.” He nodded, twirling a fountain pen in one hand. “I’ll give you three months before you leave the rest of us here in the sticks.” Ink splattered across his paper. “I’m just a clerk, anyhow. No partnership in my future, no matter how much I impress folks.”

Charles reclined in his chair, the reality of the situation tightening about his neck like a noose. How would he ever make friends if everyone had him pegged as a privileged creature? “Look, Henry . . . I don’t expect to be shepherded through the lower ranks like a crown prince or something. I aim to work my way up like any other fellow. How can I set everyone at ease?”

The man crumpled the ink-stained paper. “You could try going home, for starters.”

“How will leaving help my reputation? Won’t it make me appear a laggard?”

Henry chuckled. He scooped up a stack of files and jammed them into a case. “Tell you what. Let’s head down to the cafe and get a meal. Folks see you hobnobbing with the clerks, they might give you an easier time of it.”

Charles reached for his things. “For tonight, we’ll say you’re the boss. Let’s go.”

As he followed Henry down the long row of desks, all eyes trailed them. A few days and everyone will relax. I hope.

***

Late afternoon shadows wrapped the stocky building, odd bricks jutting out at irregular angles. Elizabeth ran a hand across the rough facade, clasping one of the protruding blocks. She drew a deep breath, willing her knees to stop trembling. This is the opportunity she’d hoped for, after all.

“They’re clinker bricks left over from the earthquake.” Ruby walked up behind her and slipped an arm around Elizabeth’s waist. “All around you in this city, you can see God bringing life from the ashes.” She gazed up at the Mission Home. “And He’s redeeming these girls from the ruins of their lives as well.”

Elizabeth clutched her case against her side. She understood ruined lives.

Her sister smiled. “I’m proud of you, you know that? Miss Cameron and the girls are fortunate to have you.”

“I hope I can live up to their expectations.” A cool wind swept down the narrow street. She didn’t even know what to expect of herself. If she were walking onto a stage, she’d understand how to behave. But stepping into a mission? Perhaps teaching was just a different method of performing.

“God knows what He’s doing.” Ruby gathered her in a half-embrace. “The events of the past few years taught me the importance of trusting in His plans—even when they seem a little off-kilter to our eyes. I know He’s brought you here for a reason. I can’t wait to see what it is.”

Elizabeth managed a nod. She already knew God’s purpose—a chance to make up for her mistakes. Why else would He put Miss Cameron in her path the very night she begged Him for direction? Elizabeth straightened her shoulders, strode up the steps, and rang the bell.

Her stomach churned as a few moments passed in silence. She glanced back at her sister.

The lock clicked, the door opening a few scant inches, dark eyes peeping through the crack. “Yes?”

Elizabeth pressed fingernails against her palm for courage. “Miss Elizabeth King—here to see Miss Cameron?”

The door swung wide, revealing a young Chinese woman, her dark hair swept up in a loose bun. A bright smile flooded her face. “Oh, Miss King. Welcome. Please, come in! I’m Kum Yong, Miss Cameron’s assistant.”

Elizabeth’s nerves fluttered back for a landing. She lowered her bag to the step. “My sister and brother-in-law are waiting with my belongings.”

Kum Yong hurried outside and greeted Ruby and Gerald. “Mrs. Larkspur, how good to see you again.”

Ruby’s face lit up as she climbed the cement stairs. “And you, my friend. Abby sends her love. She wishes she could be here.”

Elizabeth returned to the automobile as Ruby’s husband struggled to lift her small trunk from the rear compartment. “Gerald, let me help, please.”

A cockeyed grin crossed his face. “I’m not completely helpless, Elizabeth, but if you want to take one side, I won’t object.”

“I’m not helpless, either. Let’s share the burden, shall we?”

He touched the brim of his hat. “It’s what family does, right?”

They maneuvered up the steps, following Ruby and Kum Yong through the narrow entry hall. Their footsteps echoed over the wood floor. A spacious room filled with tables and chairs opened up to the left, a large upright piano tucked in one corner.

Ruby glanced around. “Where is everyone?”

Kum Yong smiled. “At their lessons. All the girls are either studying in their rooms or attending classes. It’s a rare moment of quiet. You chose a good time to arrive.” She gestured toward a closed door off the entry. “Miss Cameron is meeting with one of the board members now, or she’d be here to welcome you. Perhaps you’d like to see your bedchamber first?”

Elizabeth smoothed her vest. After her long trip, she probably smelled like an organ grinder’s monkey. “Yes, I’d love to freshen up before I meet everyone.”

“I’ll take you up straightaway.” Kum Yong glanced at Gerald. “I’m sorry, Dr. Larkspur, but you’ll need to wait in the reception area. Men aren’t welcomed upstairs, in general.” She reached for the trunk. “I can help Miss King.”

He released the handle with a grin. “I see I’m not needed here.”

Ruby touched his arm. “I’ll settle Elizabeth in and be down in a moment.”

Elizabeth embraced her brother-in-law. “Thank you so much, Gerald.”

He smiled. “I hope we’ll see you at the house soon.”

The scent of fresh paint stung her eyes as they climbed the steep staircase, the weight of the trunk bumping her knee with each step. Kum Yong led the way to the last room on the right.

Elizabeth set the trunk beside the narrow bed. She straightened and glanced around the sterile chamber. A desk and a small bureau topped with a basin and pitcher took up most of the remaining space.

Kum Yong lifted the window shade, allowing a little light to filter into the room. “We haven’t had time to decorate. We’ve barely moved in ourselves. But the girls are all excited to meet you.”

Elizabeth stifled a yawn and leaned against the door frame with a sigh. “I’m just relieved to be still for a moment. I’ve been rushing from here to there since daybreak.”

Ruby squeezed her arm. “You must be weary. I’ll leave you to unpack. Besides, Gerald looked a little forlorn being left alone downstairs.”

“I’ll walk you to the door.” Kum Yong stepped into the hall.

After Elizabeth hugged her sister good-bye, she closed the door behind the two women and sank down on the bare mattress. The springs creaked, the sound loud in her ears. She unlatched the trunk and pushed open the lid, the scent of home bringing tears to her eyes. Ridiculous. She’d only been gone a few hours—why did it feel like a lifetime? How would she survive a whole year if her heart ached on arrival? Elizabeth drew out her mother’s quilt and pressed it to her chest.

God, how can I be so weak?

The door creaked.

Elizabeth hopped up. Had Kum Yong returned so soon? The door had only opened a crack. Maybe it hadn’t latched properly. She placed a hand against it, but met with a slight resistance. Elizabeth put her face to the gap.

A glittering pair of eyes peered back at her. After a quick blink, the tiny girl spun and raced down the hall, her feet thumping across the wooden floor.

“Wait,” Elizabeth called, her voice echoing along the corridor. “Don’t run off, please.”

The child turned, two braids hanging over her shoulders. “I didn’t mean to spy.”

Elizabeth beckoned her forward. “I don’t mind a bit. What’s your name?”

The girl approached, her steps measured. “Yoke Soo.”

“I’m Miss King. I’m delighted to meet you. I heard you sing in Sacramento.” Elizabeth pulled the door all the way open. “Would you like to come in?”

Yoke Soo’s eyes widened. “Into your room?”

Elizabeth stepped back and surveyed the tiny chamber. “It’s not much to look at yet, but I was just thinking how I might make it more pleasant. Maybe you could help me.” Her heart warmed as the child crossed the threshold. Perhaps this wouldn’t be so difficult. They were just children, after all. She shook out the quilt and let it fall across the mattress. “How old are you?”

The girl touched the quilt with a trembling hand. “Miss Cameron thinks I’m six, but she’s not certain.”

Elizabeth frowned. Not certain? She opened the trunk and surveyed the contents. Elizabeth drew out some embroidered handkerchiefs and handed them to the little girl. “Why don’t you spread one or two across the top of the bureau?”

Yoke Soo stepped close. “So pretty!” A smile teased at her tiny lips. She unfolded the cloth squares and arranged them on top of the dresser—two matching ones on each side, a different one in the center.

Elizabeth drew out a skirt and laid it across the bed. “Why don’t you hand me things, and I’ll find a place to put them away?”

The girl dug her hands into the chest and pulled out Elizabeth’s blue gown. Her fingers clutched the silk as it cascaded down like a waterfall.

“You like that one?” Elizabeth reached for the dress. “I made it myself. I’ll be teaching sewing here. Maybe I can teach you to make pretty things, too.”

Yoke Soo ran a finger along the embroidered bodice. “Mai Yoo had a blue silk dress when she came.”

Elizabeth knelt at the child’s side, trying to read her expression. “What happened to her dress?”

The little girl glanced up, the glossy blue fabric casting a pallor across her skin. “She didn’t like us. She went back.”

To the brothels? A prickle crept along Elizabeth’s back. “I’m sure she must have liked you.”

Yoke Soo’s lips pressed into a line and she shrugged. “Kum Yong said she missed her pretty things.”

“We all like pretty things. You wore a pretty red tunic in Sacramento.” Elizabeth eyed the child’s simple cotton shirt and loose trousers.

“Lo Mo says beauty comes from within. From Jesus’ love shining through us, like a lamp.” Yoke Soo’s cheeks pinked.

“Yes, well, I’m sure she’s correct. Must be why you’re so lovely.” Elizabeth couldn’t resist tweaking the tip of Yoke Soo’s nose. Elizabeth shook the wrinkles from the gown and hung it in the small closet.

Yoke Soo beamed and began removing garments from the trunk, admiring each one before handing it to Elizabeth. “You seem nice, for a teacher. I hope you’ll stay.”

At least she’d won over one pupil. “We’ll see if I meet with Miss Cameron’s approval.”

A sudden flurry of footsteps in the hall drew their attention. Yoke Soo’s face paled. A brown shirtwaist dropped from her hands. “Class is over. I should go.”

An older girl appeared in the doorway, brows drawn low over her piercing eyes. “Yoke Soo, you shouldn’t be here.”

Yoke Soo brushed past Elizabeth and hurried to the newcomer’s side. “I was just helping our new teacher, Tien Gum.”

The girl raised her head, pinning Elizabeth with a hardened gaze. “Teacher won’t want your help.”

“I beg to differ.” Elizabeth spoke up. “Yoke Soo has been quite helpful. In fact, we were just getting to know one another.” She stepped forward and clasped the edge of the door. “My name is Elizabeth King. I’m pleased to meet you.”

The girl snatched Yoke Soo’s hand and pulled her into the hall. “She’s not supposed to be upstairs during lesson time.” Her chin jutted forward.

Elizabeth sighed. “I see. But please, don’t blame Yoke Soo. I asked for her assistance.”

She strode away, tugging the younger girl behind her like a toy train.

Yoke Soo glanced back, her shoulders sagging.

Elizabeth waggled her fingers in farewell, earning a faint smile from her new friend. Hopefully, the girl wouldn’t get into too much trouble.

Students streamed up and down the hall, their chirping conversations dimming as they spotted the newcomer.

Elizabeth withdrew and closed the door with a gentle click. She should finish her work and dress for her meeting with Miss Cameron.

She lifted the last skirt from the bottom of the trunk—a green silk with pink roses. Her throat tightened remembering Yoke Soo’s reaction to the blue gown. Perhaps she’d best save the fancier frocks for times away from the Mission. She’d do her best to fit in, but if—like the child said—beauty was dependent on God’s light shining through, Elizabeth still had a lot of work ahead.

***

Charles shrugged off his suit jacket, the irresistible scent of roasting meat causing his stomach to growl like a wounded bear. He glanced around the corner cafe, the myriad of raucous conversations a welcome change from the quiet law office. “Not exactly a genteel locale.”

“Genteel?” Henry shouted over his shoulder. “San Francisco was founded by gold prospectors. If you want genteel, head east.” He ducked through the crowd, securing a table in the back.

Charles hung his coat and hat on the corner of a chair. “I guess I’ve not seen much outside the financial district.”

The man grinned, his round head bobbling on a short neck. “Time for some adventures, my friend.” He leaned forward, lowering his voice. “Just keep in mind there are places to avoid, if you want to keep on your uncle’s good side.”

Charles sat back in his chair, smoothing down his vest. “Like where?”

Henry hitched an eyebrow. “Stay clear of the Barbary Coast and the Chinatown alleys.”

“Ah, yes. I’ve heard of such places.” Donaldina Cameron’s stories still haunted him.

“The bureaucrats did their best to move Chinatown after the quake, but no such luck.”

“Move it? Because of the vice?”

“I’m not sure they cared about those things, but the land down there’s worth a fortune. Or it would be, if they could wrest the property from the Chinese.”

Charles wrapped his hand around the water glass. “What happened?”

“The land the consulate occupied belonged to the Chinese government. They sent a delegation to the governor, vowing to move all Oriental trade to Seattle if the Celestials—the Chinese immigrants—weren’t allowed to return to their property.”

“Decisions always come down to the dollar. I imagine the threat got the governor’s attention.”

“And Mayor Schmitz’s, too.” Henry smirked. “Of course, he’s gone now. Extortion charges don’t do much for a political career.”

A dark-haired woman appeared to take their order. Charles skimmed the menu, choosing the chicken dinner, the same as his new friend. He took a sip of the steaming coffee. “Was my uncle involved in trying to relocate Chinatown? I overheard him dressing someone down about a trinket shop.”

Henry folded both arms across his barrel chest. “Is there anything your uncle isn’t involved in? He’s fixated on transforming San Francisco into some kind of model city. It’s never going to happen, though.”

“Why not?”

“It’s a jewel of gold in a swine’s snout, if you ask me.”

Charles choked on his coffee. “A swine’s snout?” He mopped a napkin across his chin. “Proverbs, right? ‘As a jewel of gold in a swine’s snout, so is a fair woman which is without discretion.’ ”

“Very good.” Henry beamed. “You know the Scriptures?”

“A fair amount. But you’re comparing the city to a woman with loose morals?”

“No matter how hard the officials try to make us a showpiece, this will always be a gold rush town, complete with crooked streets and crookeder politicians, not to mention countless houses of ill repute.”

“There seems to be some housecleaning going on. Maybe we’ll see some honest leaders for a change.”

“You’re an idealist.” Henry narrowed his eyes at Charles, as if studying a complex legal brief. “I hope this business doesn’t crush it out of you.”

The waitress returned, carrying a large platter of food. She spread the bounty before them. Henry asked a quick blessing before the two men dug in.

Charles wiped his mouth with the napkin, casting a glance around at the neighboring tables. If he wasn’t mistaken, a few of them were inhabited by other men from the firm. Had the office emptied out after he and Henry departed? “What’s on the docket for tomorrow? I’m supposed to observe, but perhaps you can give me a few tips.”

The corner of Henry’s mouth twisted upward. “You’re shadowing Spencer? Figures. Ever since he heard your uncle was bringing you on board, he’s tied his bow tie a bit too tight.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s spent years trying to impress McKinley and McClintock. You’re a threat.”

Charles’s stomach took a dive. “I never intended to walk in and upset everyone.”

“You need to see the situation from Spencer’s perspective. He always expects the worst. Next thing you know, he’ll be standing on a street corner proclaiming the end of the world.”

Charles shook his head. He’d gained an adversary, and he hadn’t even met the man. “Where was Spencer today? No one introduced me.”

“He was in court all day. He’s got a big case with Sanborn Fire Insurance. You’ll get a sample tomorrow.” Henry wiped grease from his chin. “Not me. I never get out of the office. I’ll be shuffling papers until I die, I expect.”

Charles pushed the potatoes around his plate. “If I move up as fast as Spencer fears, maybe I’ll be needing an assistant.”

Henry’s eyes brightened. “Now you’re talking. I knew I liked you.” He squinted across the table. “So, that means you’re in charge of the check. Right?”

Charles lifted his coffee cup. “See, I suspected you were clever.” He grabbed his fork and began spearing the cooked carrots. “Do you know anything about the King family?”

Henry rubbed his ear. “I met the son—the doctor. He came in a while back, insisting to see Mr. McKinley. Your uncle wouldn’t give him the time of day. Something didn’t seem quite right. The rest of the morning, Mr. McKinley appeared out of sorts—anxious, even. You spoke with the widow?”

“I did. It’s troubling. The numbers in the files don’t add up.” The niggling doubt burrowed in his thoughts. “I provided her with some options for the future. She accepted the news with dignity, but the daughter . . .” Charles shook his head. “What a firebrand.”

“A pretty one?”

A prickle raced across the back of his neck. “Yes, but not—I mean, she’s opinionated. And hotheaded.”

“Sounds like fun. The kind to keep a man on his toes.”

“Maybe for you.” Charles jammed his hand through his hair. “She’s moved to San Francisco, so there’s a chance she may appear at the office as well.”

Henry chewed and swallowed. “Thanks for the warning. Mr. McKinley will be none too pleased.”

“I don’t relish the thought, myself.” The idea of Miss King going toe to toe with his uncle sent a chill down Charles’s back. Perhaps he could send a message to the Mission and suggest a second meeting. At a neutral location, preferably. He glanced around the diner. Someplace a little finer than this.

***

Elizabeth ran a quick hand over her wrinkled skirt, as she followed one of the students down the stairs toward Miss Cameron’s office. The girl’s slippers made the slightest scuffing sound on the treads, making Elizabeth feel like an elephant trailing a gazelle.

The escort ushered her to the door, vanishing before Elizabeth could offer thanks.

Miss Cameron jumped up from a chair, skirt swishing. “Miss King, I am so delighted you are here. I must apologize for not greeting you upon arrival. You’ve settled in, I hope?” Her beaming smile warmed the room.

The knot in Elizabeth’s stomach uncoiled like a seedling reaching for the sunlight. “Yes, and the room is perfect, thank you.”

The missionary laughed. “They’re small, I know. I’d hoped when the Mission Board rebuilt 920 they’d provide something homelike, but I’m afraid what they gave us is more like a giant dormitory. But my daughters are grateful to be home again. Two years is a long time to be transient, especially for such a large family.”

Elizabeth’s heart lifted at Miss Cameron’s description of her young charges.

Miss Cameron took Elizabeth’s hand and pulled her to a pair of blue mohair seats near the window. “Please, join me for tea. I remember how I felt my first day here. You must be overwhelmed.”

Elizabeth sank into the chair. “A little, I’m afraid.”

Miss Cameron lifted a white teapot marked with Chinese characters and guided a stream of liquid into two small cups. “I came from a loving home in the countryside and was woefully unprepared for what I faced my first day here.” Her Scottish accent colored her words. “Sometimes I think back on that naïve girl and wish I could tell her what grand adventures lay ahead. Much heartache, too, of course. I never imagined my life would turn out this way, but I followed God’s leading, and He’s taken me places I never anticipated.”

Elizabeth wrapped her fingers around the warm cup. “You sound like my sister, Ruby. She speaks often of God’s plans and His will.”

The light from the window glinted off the silver threads in the woman’s hair. “The deeper you involve yourself in His work, the more you’re aware of the actions of His hands.” She leaned forward, capturing Elizabeth’s gaze with her own. “What of you, my dear? Have you seen God’s fingerprints in your own life?”

Elizabeth thought over her past. “My father was quite devout, but he passed away when I was young. I’ve tried hard to live a good life, pleasing to God. I . . .” A lump formed in her throat. How could she even say such a thing? “I fail often, I’m afraid.”

“We all do, child. It’s a good thing He loves us, regardless.” She stood and retrieved a large, black ledger from the desk. “Each of His children is precious to Him, whether or not we make wise choices.” She returned to her seat and placed both hands on the leather cover. “Every time a new girl comes to 920, I record her story in this book—as many details as I know, anyhow. The tales can break one’s heart, as I’m sure they do our Heavenly Father’s.” She ran her fingers around the book’s worn edge. “But their old lives are behind them. When one of our daughters embraces Christ’s sacrifice, she becomes a new creation. Scripture tells us the old is gone, the new is come. Whether she comes as an innocent babe or from the most sordid brothel, from a privileged home or from the darkest opium den—each girl is made new through Christ.”

Elizabeth brushed a loose strand of hair away from her face. A clean slate sounded too good to be true.

Miss Cameron held out the book. “You might care to read up on your students’ histories. You’ll understand them better if you know from whence they came.”

The tome felt heavy in her hand as if the weight of the past could pull her to the floor. “When do I begin teaching?”

“In the morning, if you’re ready.”

Elizabeth’s heart clambered toward her throat. “I can be.”

Miss Cameron smiled. “I believe you’re going to be a wonderful addition, Elizabeth.” She paused. “May I call you Elizabeth? In front of the girls I’ll maintain formality, but I prefer to be on a first-name basis otherwise.”

“Of course. And I should call you—”

“Donaldina. I think we’ll be fine friends, and I can’t wait to see you in action. Now, are you hungry? I believe supper is about ready.”

Elizabeth nodded, hoping her churning stomach would allow a few swallows of food. She stood and followed Donaldina to the large dining room.

A flurry of conversations hushed as they entered, every face turning to study the newcomer. Elizabeth ran a quick hand over her shirtwaist and straightened her posture. Hold yourself like a teacher. She let her gaze wander over the girls, marveling at the wide variety of ages. She longed to know each unique face. At the end of one row, she spotted tiny Yoke Soo, bouncing in her seat. The girl waved. Elizabeth’s steps lightened. One down, how many to go?

Donaldina took Elizabeth’s arm and guided her to the front of the room, taking her place at a wooden podium.

Elizabeth folded her hands, conscious of the many sets of eyes.

“Good evening, girls.” Donaldina nodded to the gathering, as regal as a queen presiding over her subjects.

“Good evening, Lo Mo.” The children echoed, a flurry of smiles brightening the room.

Donaldina paused, waiting for them to quiet. “I’m pleased to present our new sewing teacher, Miss Elizabeth King. Miss King comes to us from Sacramento. I know you will make her feel welcome.” She waited as the girls’ murmuring quieted. “Now, let us pray for our meal, shall we?”

All around the room, heads bowed.

After the prayer, Donaldina led Elizabeth to a small table set off to one side. “Often I join the girls for dinner, but tonight I’d like to get to know you better.” She waved Kum Yong over to join them.

The graceful young woman took a seat, nodding to Elizabeth.

Donaldina poured water from a pitcher in the center of the table. “I wanted to speak to both of you about the proceedings tomorrow.”

Elizabeth eyed the steaming bowl of thin noodles topped with limp green leaves—spinach? Her last meal seemed like days ago. The food looked unusual, but smelled divine.

Kum Yong held the serving dish out to Elizabeth, directing her words at Donaldina. “We are due in court at nine o’clock.”

Taking a small portion, Elizabeth glanced at her tablemates. Court?

Donaldina spread a napkin on her lap. “How is Tien Gum? Has she calmed down?”

“I’m afraid not.” Kum Yong accepted the platter back and dished up a helping on her plate. “The idea of facing her captors makes her fearful.”

“At one time she thought nothing could be more terrifying than Fahn Quai.” Donaldina shook her head.

Elizabeth took a bite, letting the food linger on her tongue before chewing and swallowing. “What does that mean?”

Kum Yong’s nostrils flared. “The distasteful term is what some, outside this house, call Miss Cameron.”

Donaldina leaned close and spoke under her breath. “Means ‘white devil.’ I’ve earned many names among the Chinese. That’s the one they use to frighten their charges into obedience. ‘Be good or Fahn Quai will get you.’ ”

“I’d think they’d wish you to come save them.” Elizabeth dug at the slippery green vegetables with her fork.

“The stories you’re told shape how you view the world. If you heard I stole children away and ate them for breakfast, you might be frightened of me, too.”

Kum Yong smiled. “Once they arrive here, they learn the truth—no one is a better friend than Lo Mo.” She leaned close to Elizabeth. “Lo Mo is our nickname for Miss Cameron. It means ‘old mother.’ ” She glanced at Donaldina. “Meant in the kindest possible way.”

Donaldina touched a napkin to her lips. “You should come along tomorrow, Elizabeth. You can witness some of the challenges they face. We’ll return in plenty of time to prepare for class.”

“Of course, whatever you think is best.” Elizabeth nodded. “What is the case about?”

“We rescued Tien Gum from her captors four weeks ago. I obtained legal custody, thanks to our friends in the court, but her former owners accuse her of stealing. If she is found guilty, they can wrest her from my protection.”

Elizabeth’s stomach tightened. The dour-faced young woman who had reprimanded Yoke Soo? “She didn’t do it, did she?”

“Of course not. It’s an age-old trick. If they can get her away from the safety of the Mission Home, she’ll vanish into the night and we’ll lose track of her.”

“Vanish?”

Donaldina sighed. “It’s a game of cat and mouse. They’d secret her away—move her up to Oregon or Idaho. I’ve chased girls as far as Portland. Some we recover, many we do not.”

Elizabeth dropped her spoon. “How could a judge let such things happen?”

The missionary blinked twice, as if fighting tears. “I ask the same question every time, Elizabeth. Every single time.”