A Drowned Maiden's Hair_ A Melodrama - Laura Amy Schlitz [94]
Maud began, “It was better than —” but Judith cut her off.
“It wasn’t,” she said flatly. “If the Barbary Asylum was on fire, someone would try to get the children out.”
Maud bent her head and crossed her arms over her chest. She wished Judith would shut up about the fire. It seemed to her that being left inside the burning parlor was proof of the thing she feared most: she was simply less valuable than other children. There was nothing Judith could say that would make her feel better. Unfortunately, Judith seemed to feel she owed Maud an explanation. She went on doggedly.
“When the lamp fell,” she continued, “I saw the fire catch my skirt. The flames fastened onto it like teeth.” She shuddered. “Eleanor Lambert grabbed the tablecloth and tried to smother them, but the tablecloth caught fire, too. Hyacinth was screaming. I thought I was about to die. That was all I could think of — the fact that I was going to die.”
Maud’s mind went back to her own journey, up the attic stairs.
“Afterward, once we were outside, I felt the — the burning. The pain. The doctor says it could have been much worse. The skin will heal in time but —” Judith stopped. “I didn’t think of anything but myself. That’s God’s own truth, Maud. I forgot all about you. I don’t know whether that makes it better or worse.”
Maud didn’t know either.
“Then the firemen came, and one of them asked if there was anyone else inside the house, and Hyacinth said ‘No one.’ That’s when I remembered you, and I fainted. I woke up in Mrs. Lambert’s carriage. Hyacinth was with me. She told me she was sure you would get out — that she would go behind the house and search for you.” Judith shook her head again. “I’m sorry, Maud. I don’t expect you to forgive me.”
Maud dug her fists into her armpits. She felt she was expected to say something, but she didn’t know what it should be. She was grateful to Judith for trying to apologize, and she knew it would be generous to say she forgave her. Lord Fauntleroy would probably forgive her. The trouble was that she couldn’t say the words. Even though she understood what Judith was saying, the words wouldn’t come.
She sat without speaking while the train covered several more miles. Then she twisted to look into Judith’s face. “If only you wouldn’t take me back to the Asylum,” she begged, “if I could just stay with you and Aunt Victoria. Couldn’t I? Hyacinth’s gone away. Can’t I stay with you?”
Judith left no room for argument. “No.”
“Why not?” Maud’s voice rose to a wail. A man across the aisle turned to frown at them.
“Oh, Maud, there are so many reasons! For one thing, there’s Hyacinth. The house in Hawthorne Grove is hers — you know that — and she’ll never forgive you for telling —”
“I’ll never forgive her,” Maud said fiercely.
Judith shrugged. “Why should you? I wouldn’t. But you wouldn’t be safe under the same roof. She’d hurt you. She already has.”
Maud unclenched her fists and laid her hands in her lap. She knew that Judith was right. She wondered if Hyacinth had gone back to Hawthorne Grove. Somehow she didn’t think so. Hyacinth had been so excited about the rich ladies in Philadelphia. Probably she was with them.
“I guess you can’t pay the mortgage now. Will you — are you and Aunt Victoria going to have anywhere to live?”
Judith’s mouth worked. “We have a little money,” Judith said shortly. “Mrs. Lambert spoke to me last night. She — she offered us a small allowance.”
An allowance was money. “Why?”
“She said,” Judith reported, “that you told her about the mortgage. She said she understood we were desperate for money.” The rasp was back in her voice. “She said she was willing to provide us with the