The Daring Ladies of Lowell(14)

“Miss…Miss—”

“Barrow.”

“Miss Barrow, any health alarm could deprive the girls of their jobs. In this time of economic want? You would want me to do this?”

His indignation sounded practiced, almost as if he were reading from some handbook. This wasn’t hard to decipher—the man was afraid of losing his own job. He worked for the mill owners, same as she did, and Tilda, and all the others. “I wish you felt you could,” she said.

Wordlessly he unbuttoned his crisp white coat and hung it on a hook on the back of the surgery door, smoothing out the very few wrinkles marring its spotless surface. Underneath he wore the same coat exposing his knobby wrists that Alice recognized from when he had saved her hat.

She couldn’t leave without saying something more. “It will only get worse, won’t it?” she asked.

He ran a hand through his hair; pink scalp was showing through the white strands. His voice suddenly sharpened. “I’m a doctor who does his best, and that’s all I need to say to you.” Regaining his composure, he added, “Good day, Miss…ah—”

“Barrow.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Good day, Dr. Stanhope.” She donned her coat and walked out of the surgery, pulling the door shut behind her as hard as she dared.

It was a Monday night, perfectly ordinary, except for the fact that there were two empty places at the dinner table.

“Where are Mary and Lovey?” Ellie asked, her voice carrying around the table.

“Hush, they went to a meeting,” her sister replied.

“Who knows what goes on in those tents the revivalists put up,” mumbled Mrs. Holloway. “Those girls are—”

“They’ll be fine,” Alice interjected. The chilly edge to her voice halted the conversation. Why did she feel she had to speak up? Perhaps because there was so often a tut-tut tone to any conversation about Lovey, who was a bit of a risk taker, yes, but as generous as anybody. The other girls didn’t always appreciate that. Anyhow, Alice was still brooding over her encounter with the spineless doctor. There was nothing to do about it at the moment. But at least Lovey would patiently listen to her complaints. She wanted to talk to her now. Where was she?

Midnight. No Lovey or Mary-o. Alice sat up in the parlor, sleepless, worrying. She could hear the rhythmic breathing of the others from the dormitory and wondered if they, too, were listening. Mrs. Holloway had padded around the house at ten o’clock, her face set tight with strain, peering out the window from time to time before finally turning out all the lights.

“It’s long past my bedtime, and I’m locking up for the night,” she finally said. “If there’s any mischief going on, we know who’s causing it, don’t we? I swear, that girl Lovey has no common sense.” After some hesitation, she left one lamp on in the parlor. “I don’t want them freezing out there,” she said when she saw Alice watching her.

“They’ll come,” Alice said.

Mrs. Holloway stared out the window into the blackness. “We do always want to hope for the best, don’t we?” she said.

“No, I truly mean it, they will be here soon.”

Mrs. Holloway stared into the distance, her thoughts on broader territory. “Young women, taking foolish chances, old story,” she said tiredly. “I didn’t take well to a harness, either, but there’s no telling that to the young.” She turned and left the room.

At a quarter past the hour, Alice heard movement on the porch. Slipping out of bed, she hurried to open the door. A shivering Mary-o and Lovey looked up from where they sat on the steps.

“Thank God,” Mary-o whispered.

“We have to get up in only four more hours,” Alice sputtered. “How could you stay out so late?”

“Don’t scold,” Lovey said. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes dancing.

“Weren’t you worried? You broke a major rule, you could be sacked,” Alice protested.

“Please forgive us,” Mary-o said, her voice contrite.

“What happened?”

Mary-o stole a furtive glance at Lovey. “We got separated; I couldn’t find her.”

“It just ran late,” Lovey cut in, yanking at Mary-o’s hand. The three of them walked into the house, standing in the weak light of one lamp.

“I’ve been so afraid we would be thrown out of here,” Mary-o began. “I—”

“Stop it, Mary,” Lovey said, her voice lightly careless. “We had a good time, now pick your chin off the ground and let’s go to bed.”

Mary-o straightened. “Well, you did, more than me.” She sniffed.