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Belle found it impossible to sleep again that night. She woke up feeling as though she’d drunk too much wine; her head hurt, and her eyes were puffy. She’d taken a quick peek in the mirror before breakfast and had refused to look at herself again until after she’d eaten anything. At the very least, she needed coffee.
Mrs. James looked all astonishment at her as she came down the stairs, but she recovered herself nicely when Belle sat down at the table, joining the other boarders for their morning meal.
“You’re looking... well, this morning,” the woman said. Belle thanked her, even though she knew it was a lie. “Are you sleeping all right, my dear? Is it the bed? I have a second room free at the moment if you’d like to move into it and try it out. The bed’s the same, but it’s a trifle newer and perhaps will give you a better rest.”
“I’m fine, I assure you,” said Belle, then, feeling the eyes of the others at the table on her, felt compelled to offer some explanation for her appearance other than the truth, which was that she could not stop thinking about Sidney. “I was up late searching the newspaper for job ads.”
The others, three men and a woman, nodded appreciatively, as though her looks now made sense to them.
“Looking for work is work in and of itself,” said Mr. Libbey, a man of fifty with a bushy gray mustache.
“Yes,” said the man beside him, whose name Belle could not remember. He had a large birthmark running across his forehead that made him look as though he were suffering from a rash. “It took me weeks to find employment when I first came here.”
Belle frowned. “Weeks?” she said, her mind shifting from her argument with Sidney to what these men were saying.
She began counting her money inside her head, adding up the expense of the boardinghouse in addition to her evening meals and other necessities, such as a new coat for the rest of the winter and possibly new boots, as her soles were worn quite thin.
She realized with some dread she had not been as careful with her money as she ought to have been. She’d assumed she’d be marrying Sidney upon her arrival in Elmwood and had not planned for longer than a month or so on what she had with her. If she stretched it, she could get two months out of it, provided she was far more careful with it than she had been up till now.
“Yes,” said Mr. Libbey. “If I were you, I wouldn’t leave it to the papers. More than half the places I went to when looking were not listed in the papers at all. It costs money to put something in the paper, you know, and most of these places would rather save the cost and put a sign in the window.”
His comment reminded Belle of the sign she’d seen in the dress shop window the other day, and she resolved to go there after breakfast. Back upstairs, she took another look at herself in the mirror and thought her eyes less puffy than before her coffee. She smoothed down her dress, Sidney still at the back of her mind, but she forced him away.
What business was it of hers whether he married a criminal? If he was so dense as to not care where Irene’s money had come from, then she would certainly not concern herself with it. She rolled her shoulders, the tension already knotting itself in her back, and tried to pretend that all was well with her.
She found the dress shop easily enough and went inside. “Excuse me,” she said to the shop owner.
“Yes, how may I help you?” asked a woman of forty with dark brown hair that had not yet given itself over to gray.
“I saw your sign in the window, and I came to inquire about it.”
“Sign?” the woman said, frowning and looking over Belle’s shoulder toward the window. Her eyes suddenly widened. “Oh, dear me. I forgot to take it down.” She hurried to the window and pulled the sign out of it, turning back to Belle with an embarrassed apology on her face. “I’m so sorry, but the position’s already been filled.”
Belle left the store dejected but determined to find another business to inquire within. She quickly came across a haberdashery advertising for a position within. Belle hesitated, knowing that such places were not typically for women, but deciding it did not matter to her whether she worked in a men’s clothing shop or a women’s.
She was rebuffed by the owner almost the second she entered the store, however. “I’m sorry,” said the tiny little man with glasses that were too large for his face. “Men only.”
“But I know a great deal about men’s clothing,” Belle told him.
“It doesn’t matter at all, I’m afraid. This is a haberdashery, not a dress shop.” He smiled while ushering her back out the door. “As a matter of fact, I believe I saw a dress shop just a few doors down from here advertising in its window for help. Why don’t you inquire there?”
He finally got her out of the shop before she could even answer, and she began to feel foolish. She was not desperate—not yet—but the idea that her money would not last forever weighed on her. Weeks, Mr. Libbey had said. And he was an accomplished man. How long might it take her to find work?
If she had Irene’s money, she would not have had to worry for months, maybe not even years. She began turning the mystery of that money over again in her mind, so lost in her thoughts she did not even see her sisters approaching until they were already upon her.
“I’m so glad to find you,” Summer said, and Belle glanced up from her feet where she’d been looking. Her lips parted, and a small cry escaped her mouth before she managed to control herself.
“Oh,” she said, looking from Summer to Meadow. Their betrayal began to make her anger coil like a snake in her stomach, and she wished she had not run into them just now. She had enough on her mind without thinking about their lies.
“I have to go,” Belle said and quickly dashed around them.
“Belle!” Summer shouted, running after her. “Please, wait.”
“Yes,” said Meadow. “Talk to us. We’ve been looking for you all morning.”
“That’s right,” said Summer. “We went to the boardinghouse and Mrs. James told us you’d gone to look for work. If you need money—”
“I do not,” said Belle quickly, not wanting to have this conversation here, or indeed, anywhere.
Summer continued reaching into her purse anyway. She withdrew a small bundle of money. “It’s what you gave me from the sale of the house. Take it, consider it yours.”
Belle started. She quickly shook her head, waving the money away. “No, really, I don’t need it.” Not yet.
Meadow reached into her purse and offered her the same. “I have spent only a few dollars of it. I want you to take it.”
Belle shook her head, tears forming at the backs of her eyes. “I cannot.”
“You can, and you will,” said Meadow, pressing the money into her hand. “I’m the eldest sister and you must listen to me.” She paused and drew in a deep breath. “And you must also forgive me. I love you, and if you tell me now to send Irene away from my house, I shall do so at once. I was only trying to be a good sister-in-law to Sidney by allowing her to stay with me, and the promise was made before I knew of your feelings for him.”
Belle shook her head, realizing suddenly how stubborn she had been. “You needn’t do that. I’m not at all worried about Irene. She is merely passing through our lives and will be gone shortly.”
Meadow and Summer exchanged a look, and Belle knew they did not believe her. She did not really believe it herself, but she refused to let go of her hope that Sidney might come to his senses, even now, after the fight they’d had.
“Come back with me,” said Summer. “Forgive me for lying to you as well and stay with me and Emile again.”
Belle bit her bottom lip, feeling herself cave in under sisterly affection. “If I go to stay with you, then you must both take back your money, as I’ll not need it nearly so badly if I’ve no board to pay.”
Summer and Meadow exchanged a look then nodded to each other. Belle handed them back their money, and the sisters hugged.
Belle wiped away her tears and said, “I have much to tell you about Irene now that we’re friends again.”
“We were always friends,” said Summer. “We’re sisters, and there can never be a true separation between us, no matter how stubborn one of us may act.”
“Just come,” said Belle impatiently. “I must tell you of Irene, and you must give me your opinion.” Meadow looked wary but said nothing, and the trio walked arm in arm together toward Summer’s home.
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