Great things are done when men and mountains meet.
William Blake
The formal opening of the new school at Hartford Settlement House proved to be more of an event than Concordia expected. Vehicle traffic had slowed to a crawl as locals gathered on the sidewalks and spilled into the street.
The crowd on the steps of the school was at least ten people deep, many of them school children and their families. From across the street, Concordia leaned on David’s arm as she stood on tiptoe for a better view.
“Do you see them?” she asked her husband.
He tightened his arm to steady her. “I see Miss Farraday and the settlement house director—Miss Newcombe, is that right? Yes. They’re about to cut the ribbon now.”
A few heads in front of her shifted, and Concordia was able to see at last. “And look, Sophia and the lieutenant are right behind them.” Today Lieutenant Capshaw was attired in a pinstripe suit for the occasion rather than his customary uniform. The stiff brown material, however, seemed rather heavy for this time of year. Concordia suspected he owned few suits to begin with.
The crowd broke into applause as the ribbon was cut and the new school was made official. Squealing children were sorted into orderly groups and escorted inside by their teachers as onlookers began to disperse.
“Let’s go congratulate them,” Concordia said.
Madeline Farraday spotted them first and hurried down the steps. “Mrs. Bradley! I’m so glad you could come.”
The young lady looked radiant today, attired in a light summer walking dress of dotted peach muslin and a beribboned straw hat to match. Her blue eyes sparkled with eagerness, and her pale complexion was touched with a flush along her cheeks in the mid-morning warmth.
Concordia smiled to herself. Finally, this orphaned girl had found a path in life that suited her. A far cry from last summer, when she’d lost the man she loved and thought her life was forever tied to domestic service. Dreams take many forms, Mrs. Bradley. She was glad Madeline had discovered hers.
“Of course we would come,” Concordia said. “We’re so proud of what you’ve achieved.” She looked up in appreciation at the building, once the site of a dry goods store and abandoned years before. Now, thanks to Miss Farraday’s beneficence, the building had been purchased and restored—its brick front re-faced, steps mended, roof tiles replaced. “The building has never looked better.”
“You should see the classrooms,” Madeline said. “Freshly painted, of course, and everything’s new—floors, books, desks and chairs. It’s beautiful. But it isn’t my achievement. I provided the funds and was invited to sit on the planning board, but greater minds than mine put all this together. I’m still learning about the process.”
David smiled. “It’s early days yet. You have a bright future ahead of you.”
“Thank you, Mr. Bradley,” Madeline said.
“I do wish you’d call me David,” he said. “We’re family, after all.”
In the months since Miss Farraday had come into Lawrence’s share of Isaiah Symond’s fortune, David’s father had come to realize that inheriting even half of Symond’s immense estate was a formidable sum in its own right and that challenging Lawrence’s will had served no purpose other than to widen the rift between Madeline and the Bradley family. Over the past several months, David had tried to ease the estrangement.
“Family?” Madeline gave a wry smile. “Perhaps someday. In the meantime, I hope you both will join us for a celebratory breakfast. Miss Newcombe has a buffet set up at the settlement house.”
David grinned. “Wouldn’t want to miss that.” He dropped his voice as he leaned toward his wife. “Are you feeling up to breakfast, dear?”
She slipped her hand through his arm. “Absolutely.” This time around, her nausea was not nearly as profound. She hoped that was a good sign. Only time would tell.
“I understand you’re still living at Mrs. Carr’s boarding house,” David said to Madeline, as they turned down the block toward the settlement house. “I’m curious as to why. You can afford to live anywhere you like.”
“And eat something other than mutton stew,” Concordia added.
Madeline grinned. “The menu has vastly improved since then. Besides, I’ve been so busy with committee work I haven’t had time to make a decision. And Mrs. Carr has been like a mother to me.”
“Perhaps it has something to do with Maisie taking lodgings there as well?” Concordia teased. Miss Lovelace had moved to the boarding house after her graduation from Hartford Women’s College. The two remained as thick as thieves, perhaps more so after their harrowing experience.
“It’s good to have a friend,” Madeline said.
“How is Miss Lovelace?” David asked. “We haven’t heard from her since graduation.”
“You’ll see for yourself,” Sophia said, as she caught up to them on the sidewalk, Capshaw close behind. “She and her uncle are attending the breakfast. They’ve been working to set up the school’s new machine shop as part of our mechanical apprenticeship program.”
David’s lips twitched. “Sounds perfect for the young lady.”
“For both of them,” Concordia said. “I’m so glad. That family has been through a terrible experience.”
Capshaw clucked his tongue. “It would not have been so, had Lovelace not played at chivalrous knight errant with his false confession. He’s lucky it only cost him a few weeks in jail. One should not meddle in a police investigation.”
He turned a sharp eye to Concordia, who assumed a look of wide-eyed innocence.
“I grant you, jail is not a pleasant place,” she agreed.
Madeline raised a puzzled eyebrow.
Best not to share her experience in that regard, Concordia thought. She stifled a smile.
“The outcome isn’t entirely satisfactory for Lovelace, poor fellow,” David said, “with Miss Phillips gone for good.”
“Actually”—Madeline’s voice was tinged with excitement—“Maisie and I have a surprise planned. We’re taking him with us to Egypt to visit Miss Phillips in the spring.”
“How wonderful!” Concordia exclaimed. “So you’ve been in contact with the lady. How is she?”
“Oh, definitely in her element,” Madeline said. “According to her last letter, she just returned from an exciting dig in…Asyut, I believe. She’s presently in line for the assistant curator position at the museum in Boulaq.”
“Speaking of museums,” Sophia said, “what are you going to do with the Descriptive Catalogue, now that the college gallery is closed for good?”
“President Langdon suggested a small display in the library,” Concordia said. It seemed an apt place.
“Will you continue working at the library this fall, Mrs. Bradley?” Madeline asked, as they reached the front doors of Hartford Settlement House.
After Jane Cowles’s “retirement”—only a few knew she’d been dismissed—Concordia had spent long hours helping in the library as the school searched for a permanent replacement. The work was strictly voluntary, which pleased Maynard no end. He rarely stay pleased for long, of course, and the new century would no doubt afford him may-nots in plenty.
“Perhaps I will, but not beyond that.” She glanced at David, who gave her a warm look in return. “I miss being at home.”
He grinned as he held the door open. “Amen to that.”
THE END