Careful now, John,” Ada told her brother.
“Nana knows she’s safe with me,” John said as he helped their grandmother down the stairs to the parlor. “Or maybe she’d prefer to slide down the banister.” He moved to lift Nana atop the heavy oak railing, but Nana flicked his ear.
“If my bones were a few decades younger, I’d take you up on that, Johnny.”
Ada hurried ahead and got the pillows on the fainting couch ready. John helped Nana to her place, and Ada arranged the folds of her dressing gown, adding a velvet coverlet over her legs.
“There now,” Nana said. “I’m snug as a bug in a rug.”
“Can I get you anything?” John asked.
“Not a thing. When I have you and Ada in my presence, I am totally content.”
The feelings were reciprocated. The world was a safe and even place with Nana around.
John checked his pocket watch. “I do have a little time before I need to leave for the Academy, so I’ll stay and—”
Ada interrupted him. “But Samuel’s coming over.” She really didn’t want to share Samuel with her brother. The two men were the same age, and when they got together they always ended up talking about how the Alcott banking empire was doing, or how John enjoyed his doctoring work as a Fellow with the New York Academy of Medicine.
“And why is that a problem?” he asked with a smile.
“You know how you two are. When you get together, you always end up talking about banking or doctoring.”
“My, my, sister. How greedy you are, wanting Samuel all to yourself. I was merely—”
Nana interrupted. “Leave her alone, Johnny. If you had a sweetheart, you’d want time alone with her.”
John acknowledged Nana with a bow. “Touché, Nana. In deference to you—and true love—once Samuel arrives, I’ll make myself scarce.” He turned to Ada. “When will he be here?”
“Anytime now. He was coming this afternoon to take me to the art museum but sent word he’s eager to see me this morning.”
“Eager is good,” Nana said. “Very good.”
“I like eager, too,” John said with a grin and made himself comfortable in a chair.
Ada ignored him—which never worked but was her only recourse. She addressed Nana. “I wore my new dress today. I can hardly wait to add scraps from this dress to my bridal quilt. I don’t have any aubergine.”
“The deep purple will make a lovely addition, I’m sure.”
“Absolutely lovely,” John said, drawing out the word.
The knocker sounded on the front door.
“He’s here,” Nana said. “Smile prettily.”
John showed Ada a toothy grin.
Waiting for Wilson to show him in, Ada started to sit, then stood, knowing the drapery of her new day dress was at its best advantage while she was standing. She had just adjusted the drape of the train when she looked to the foyer and saw Samuel—with a little girl.
Samuel removed his hat and entered the parlor, urging the girl forward. “Good morning, Ada. Mrs. Bauer. And hello there, John. Nice to see you.”
Ada was stunned into silence, her focus on the girl. She was seven or eight, and very skinny. She had a cut and horrible bruises on her face, and her coat was threadbare and torn. Ada’s heart immediately went out to her. She moved close and put a hand on the girl’s head. “Samuel … who’s this?”
“Her name is Nusa, and last night—”
But before he could answer more fully, the girl tentatively touched the golden trim on Ada’s dress. “Recht,” she said. “Sehr recht.”
“She says your dress is very pretty,” Nana said. Then she called out to the girl. “Guten Morgen, liebes Mädchen. Sie sind deutsch?”
The girl beamed. “Ja. Sind sie?”
“Ja!” Nana extended her hands, and Nusa went to Nana’s side. The two of them talked back and forth in German.
Samuel moved toward Ada and John. “I didn’t know your grandmother knew German.”
“She immigrated from Germany when she was young,” John said.
Ada couldn’t take her eyes off the little girl chattering on with Nana as if they were already friends. “Nana tried to teach me German, but Mother insisted I learn French instead.”
They all watched as Nana patted the foot of the chaise and Nusa sat at her feet. “They’re getting along famously,” Samuel said.
“So who is she, Samuel?” Ada asked. “Where did she come from?”
“The boys and I were at Five Points last night, and—”
“You weren’t slumming it, were you?” John asked.
“I hate to admit, we were.”
Ada didn’t know what “slumming it” meant, but she did know that Five Points was the most notorious and treacherous area of all New York. “Way down there?” Ada asked. “Isn’t that dangerous?”
“It was dangerous for Nusa. I saved her from being beaten by some hoodlum.”
If this happened last night, it meant Samuel must have… “You took her home?”
“I couldn’t leave her there. The man was vile. He might have killed her.”
“I know the type,” John said. “I’ve done some work down there with the Academy, and the poverty, violence, and disease are rampant.”
Ada was proud of Samuel, yet to put himself in such a situation … It was then she noticed a cut on his hand. She took hold of it. “You’re hurt.”
He pulled his hand away. “Just a scratch, and nothing compared to the bruises Nusa has endured.”
John stepped forward. “Would you like me to check her out?”
Samuel considered this a moment, then shook his head. “I truly believe her wounds are superficial—this time.”
The German conversation paused, and Nana said, “She says her parents are dead, and the man who was beating her was the head of a gang of children he recruited to steal for him. She refused and … the rest you know.”
“She has no parents?”
Nusa shook her head. “Eltern. Nein.”
Samuel ran a hand through his hair. “I was going to take her back to Five Points this morning, to wherever she lived.”
Nana nodded and asked Nusa a question. “Wo leben Sie?”
Nusa shrugged. Then she said something that seemed half German and half English.
Nana translated. “She sometimes stays at the Merciful Children Foundling Home. Otherwise, she sleeps on the street.”
Nusa walked over to Samuel and took his hand. “Ich bleibe mit Ihnen. Ja?”
“She wants to stay with you,” Nana said.
John let out a laugh, then stifled it. “It appears she’s adopted you, Alcott.”
“Are you keeping her, Samuel?” Ada asked. She thought of her childhood clothes up in the attic. Surely some of them would fit the girl until new ones could be made.
But before she could voice the offer …
“Grandfather says she has to go back,” Samuel said. “That’s where we’re heading right now.” He looked at Nana. “Please tell her I’d like to give her a home, but Grandfather … I just can’t. Tell her I’ll take her back to the foundling home. I’ll see her safely there.”
Nana motioned for Nusa to come close again and spoke to her. At first Nusa shook her head, but Nana persisted, and finally Nusa nodded.
“She understands.”
Samuel offered her a bittersweet smile, and the girl ran to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “I hate to send her back there. But I have no choice.”
Ada was torn. Although her heart went out to the girl, she said, “Perhaps it will be for the best.”
Samuel gave her a look that made her immediately regret her comment.
“I mean, she’ll be with children of her own kind … people who speak German …” She looked to John and Nana for help.
“You can’t dig yourself out of that one, sister,” John said.
Nana chastised him. “Behave yourself, Johnny.” To Ada she said, “You may be right, Ada, but being right doesn’t equal being fair.”
Samuel spoke to Nusa. “Are you ready to go?”
Nusa looked at Nana. “Gehen?”
Nana nodded. “Gehen. Gott segnen Sie und halten Sie, liebes Mädchen.”
Nusa ran to Nana and embraced her. Everything was happening so fast. Samuel was leaving with the girl, taking her back to Five Points….
“Can I come with you?” Ada asked.
Although Samuel looked pleased at her offer, he said, “Another day, Ada.”
After they left, Ada sank onto a chair. She ran her fingers along the golden trim that had so impressed the little girl. Golden trim that seemed ridiculously frivolous when compared to the girl’s ragged clothes. “I wish he would have let me go with him.”
“Five Points is no place for a lady,” John said.
“Or a child,” she added. “He left so quickly. We have clothes we could give to her, and food. Has she eaten?”
Nana smiled. “I’m sure Samuel has fed her well.” Then she beckoned Ada to sit at the foot of the chaise where Nusa had sat just moments before. “You have a good heart, child. As does your Samuel.”
“His compassion is one of the reasons I love him.”
“You are a good pair, the two of you,” Nana said.
Ada nodded. A good pair, who were once again spending time apart.
After asking directions multiple times, and getting lost twice, Samuel finally found the Merciful Children Foundling Home.
There was a small sign by the front door, but otherwise, the brick building blended into the line of tenements surrounding it. Nusa ran up the steps and opened the door, running inside as if she was truly home.
Samuel was more tentative, not wanting to be the intruder. He stepped inside and called out, “Hello?” He looked down the hall to the left of the staircase and saw a middle-aged woman pull Nusa into an embrace. “Nusa! We’re so glad to have you back!”
Samuel was relieved at the warm reception. It would make it easier to leave her behind.
The woman stepped back and took a good look at Nusa’s face. “Oh my dear child. How did you get these cuts and bruises?”
“Dieser Mann rettete mich.”
The woman looked at Samuel with new appreciation. She walked toward him, extending her hand. “Thank you for saving her. Welcome, Mr.—?”
Samuel shook her hand. “Samuel Alcott.”
“Eliza Hathaway. Please come in, Mr. Alcott.”
She led him into a parlor crowded with mismatched chairs, all facing in one direction. It reminded him of a school room. She turned two chairs around. “Please. Sit.”
He did so, resting his hat and gloves on his thigh. Nusa climbed onto Mrs. Hathaway’s lap.
“Well now,” the woman said. “Tell me how the two of you met.”
Samuel gave the shortened version of their meeting.
“Nusa did not exaggerate. It appears you are a hero,” Mrs. Hathaway said.
Samuel shrugged. “I’m just glad she’s safely here.”
There was a bang overhead, then a stampede of footfalls racing down the stairs. Nearly a dozen children burst into the parlor, ignored him, and ran to Nusa, hugging and exclaiming and loving her back into their presence.
He was moved by their obvious affection for the girl and felt good about his decision to bring her home. Being around people who showed their love overshadowed any things he might have been able to provide for her back at his grandfather’s house, where Nusa would be alone all day but for the servants.
His presence was no longer needed, so he stood and removed a fold of money he’d prepared as a donation. “I’ll be going now. I’m just glad Nusa is safely home. And I want to give you this … for the children.” Mrs. Hathaway took the money and slipped it into the pocket of her apron. “We are appreciative, Mr. Alcott. But please don’t leave so soon. I have soup on the stove and fresh bread in the oven. If the finicky stove behaves itself, it will be a good meal. Please join us. It’s the least we can do to thank you.”
He didn’t want to take their food, which was probably a precious commodity, but when Nusa wiggled her way through the crowd of children and took his hand, he succumbed. “That would be very nice, Mrs. Hathaway. Thank you.”
“I may be old, but it’s Miss Hathaway, and you can save your thanks for after the meal when you decide whether you like my cooking.”
The soup was tasty—but secondary to Samuel’s dining experience. What fed him more than the meal were the children.
They sat on benches on either side of a huge table in the kitchen, a stairstep of ages and a world of nationalities. They were polite and, for the most part, well mannered. When twelve-year-old Tito sloshed his soup over the side of the bowl, he was quick to say he was sorry, and Miss Hathaway was quick to forgive and help him clean up.
Samuel remembered his own boyhood spills. Grandmother had responded with the same kindness as Miss Hathaway. But Grandfather had always been quick to jump on Samuel’s irresponsibility or rowdiness or clumsiness or rudeness or …
He shook the memory away with a shiver. He was still trying to please his grandfather.
With the meal finished, he took a toddler named Kristin to his lap, where she showed interest in his shiny brass buttons. When she smiled at him … he’d never felt such a warmth inside.
“You’re a natural, Mr. Alcott.”
“Excuse me?”
Miss Hathaway nodded at the little girl. “The children love you.”
“They’re very tolerant.”
She shook her head adamantly. “Actually, they’re not. Most of them have lived on the streets and are wary of strangers. Because they’ve fended for themselves, they have acute instincts about people. They know a compassionate man when they see one.”
He’d never thought of himself in such a way. As an accountant in his grandfather’s bank, he was used to dealing with numbers, facts, and ledgers.
“Don’t shake your head no,” Miss Hathaway said. “Whether you’ve had a chance to act on your compassion in the past, you’ve acted on it now, and once the door’s open, there’s no turning back.”
He didn’t know what she was implying.
He must have offered a befuddled expression, for she laughed. “Don’t worry, Mr. Alcott. I’m not expecting you to move in and help me or sign over your fortune, but I do know how God got me here, and … well … let’s just say I’m looking forward to seeing what happens next.”
“Next?” Samuel was confused. One minute he was playing with Kristin, and the next Miss Hathaway was talking about God and opened doors and the future.
Miss Hathaway was still chuckling when she brought him his coat and gloves and placed his hat upon his head. “It’s time to go now, Mr. Alcott.”
“You’re kicking me out?”
“I’m nudging you forward. You have a lot of thinking to do.”
He stepped over the bench, placed Kristin on the floor, and put on his coat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Miss Hathaway.”
“You don’t need to, because I’m not the one who’s going to do the talking.” She led him to the door. “Good day, Mr. Alcott. Until next time.”
He found himself on the street. It was beginning to snow, a soft, cleansing snow that was turning the harsh street into something beautiful.
What had just happened?
He buttoned his coat against the cold, put on his gloves, and walked to an intersection to hail a cab. Once inside, he looked out the window and saw the Merciful Child Foundling Home fall from view.
And then he knew.
He would see it again.
He would be back.