Miss Paringham did not believe in sweets.Īpparently she still didn’t. Wards of the school made do with the same Christmas package every year: an orange, a ribbon, and a neatly folded length of patterned muslin. If their birthdays were on Christmas, there was never any need to celebrate them. However, Kate always suspected there’d been a more practical motive behind the choice. Supposedly they were to take comfort from this reminder of their heavenly family on the day when all the other girls had gone home to their own flesh-and-blood relations. As schoolmistress, Miss Paringham had decided all wards of the school would share the Lord’s birthday, December 25. No one knew Kate’s true birthday, least of all Kate herself. “Do you remember the day I arrived at Margate, Miss Paringham? I must have been such a little thing.” This woman might be her last hope of finding the connection. Once upon a time, she’d belonged-to someone, somewhere. She couldn’t put a name or face to the emotion, but that didn’t make it any less real. Some distant memory of happiness echoed in its every beat. Even if her mind could not recall it, her heart remembered a time before Margate. Just some pale, thrice-washed dilution of it. In all her years there, she’d never known real love. Margate had provided for her every need, save one. Most important of all, she’d been instructed in music and encouraged in its practice.
She’d formed friendships and gained a useful education. The atmosphere at Margate School for Girls might have been austere, but she hadn’t been beaten or starved or unclothed. It’s just so hard to find two solid hours for reading sermons nowadays.”Īs orphans went, Kate knew she’d been a great deal happier than most. “I particularly miss the…the nourishing soup. “Oh, yes.” She stretched her mind for examples. I have such fond recollections of my Margate years.”
I couldn’t resist paying a call to reminisce.
Imagine, my old schoolmistress, pensioned just a few hours’ ride away. “I was so surprised to learn you’d settled here. But abruptness wouldn’t win her any answers.Ī wrapped parcel lay in her lap, and she curled her fingers around the string. She despised wasting precious minutes on niceties when there were questions singeing the tip of her tongue. Setting aside her “tea,” Kate cast a surreptitious glance at the mantel clock. That is more than an unfortunate like yourself should have hoped.” “I am glad to know your schooling has provided you with an honest income.
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