“I suppose you’re right. I hadn’t thought of it that way, but I still don’t think it’s a good situation. The girls behave almost as if they were romantic rivals.”

Mrs. Graves raised her eyebrows as the meaning of Sarah’s words sank in. “I suppose they are, in a way,” she agreed. “They must be desperate for love, and Mrs. Wells offers them the promise of unconditional acceptance – from God but mostly from herself, as his messenger on earth.”

“I thought you said you didn’t know her well,” Sarah said.

“I don’t, but this seems like the approach she would take,” she explained. “And it would certainly be effective. The girls know they must repent their evil ways in order to win Mrs. Wells’s acceptance, and along the way, they seek God’s acceptance as well.”

“That seems almost… dishonest,” Sarah admitted reluctantly.

“Tricking someone into the Kingdom of God? Perhaps you’re right, but who are we to judge?”

Sarah had no answer to that question.

“Mrs. Brandt, although I haven’t been to the mission in a long time, I do know how much Hazel loved her work there,” Mrs. Graves said. “She found… I’m not sure how to describe it. Perhaps it was peace she found. I’d never seen her so contented, and she credited Mrs. Wells for helping her achieve that peace. This is why we’ve continued to support the work there.”

“Would you like to go down with me sometime to see it again?”

Mrs. Graves considered the offer for a moment. “Yes, after what you’ve told me, I think I’d like to see what’s going on there.”

Sarah smiled, glad that she would have an unbiased observer to help her make sense of what she’d seen there. “I’ll be going tomorrow, if you’re free.”

“I’ll make a point of it,” she said thoughtfully.

Someone touched Sarah’s arm. She turned to see one of the maids, who said, “Mrs. Wells is here, ma’am.”

Frank was getting tired of searching through the rat holes of the slums in the dark of night, but he supposed if he was hunting rats, he’d have to go where they were. He and his cohorts had spent the better part of two days seeking out the locations Billy had given him. Finding Danny during the daylight hours was more than he’d hoped for, and his expectations had been met. The young man was most likely out keeping an eye on his young charges while they worked the streets. The children who stole for him would require constant supervision, Frank supposed. Children could be unreliable.

Of all the places Billy had mentioned, Frank had thought the shanty under the bridge would be their best bet, and he’d been right. The earlier rain shower had driven everyone to shelter, and when they arrived after full dark, a fire still smoldered in front of the open doorway. A small child was making his way through the trash and debris carrying a growler of beer toward it. He would have purchased the tin pail of liquid refreshment at a nearby stale beer dive for a few cents. Children wouldn’t be welcome to remain in such places, so one of them would make a purchase and bring it back for the rest of them to share. When their weariness and loneliness and fear had been deadened by the alcohol, the children would sleep under the protection of their mentor.

A shout from the hovel announced the arrival of the child with the beer, and those inside spilled out to meet him, waving their tin cups eagerly. Frank watched from the shadows, waiting for the tallest figure to emerge. From this distance, Frank could tell only that the figure was the right size to be Danny. He couldn’t hear what was said, but the children fell silent and waited while he took the first ration from the growler. When he’d finished, the rest of them crowded around, jostling to be next and hardly bothering to step away before downing their portions.

Frank felt a pain and realized he was clenching his jaws in anger at the spectacle. He couldn’t have said at whom his anger was directed. Not Danny, for all he might deserve it. The boy did protect the children as well as he could, Frank supposed. And the lot of them were merely trying to survive in a world where the adults who should have cherished them had abandoned them to die. Maybe he was angry at a world where children must seek help and comfort from each other because no one cared for or about them.

“Let’s go,” he told the cops with him. He’d brought four this time, taking no chances of losing his quarry. As previously arranged, they stole away into the darkness to make a circle around the hovel. Whichever way Danny ran, someone would be there to intercept him.

The children were quarreling now over who got the dregs of beer. Some were coming to blows, while others were shrieking and pushing. The taller figure merely stood by, looking on but taking no part in the squabbling. Frank could imagine he was smiling at the confusion. He wouldn’t be smiling for long.

When he judged the other cops had had time to reach their positions, he gave the signal. “Police!” he shouted.

The children needed no other warning. Without a second’s hesitation, they fled into the night. Frank kept his eye on the tall figure, who ducked and ran in the opposite direction from his voice. Frank hurried after him, taking care not to fall over the rubble in the darkness. “He’s heading uptown,” he shouted, in case the others hadn’t seen him. The river on one side would limit the directions he could go.

“I see him!” someone shouted, and Frank turned toward the voice. By the time he got to the other side of the shanty, he could hear the sounds of a scuffle and then the familiar thump of locust wood against human flesh. The scuffle ceased.

Now, if Danny’s brains hadn’t been knocked loose, Frank would finally get some answers.

Sarah went downstairs to greet her guest. Mrs. Wells was waiting in the foyer with two girls. Sarah wasn’t surprised to see the glow of Maeve’s red hair in the light from the chandelier. She recognized the other girl, Gina, from her class. Both of them were dressed in white with pale blue sashes tied around their waists, making Sarah think of sacrificial virgins. They were looking around wide-eyed and slack-jawed, taking in the luxury of the Deckers’ home with an air of disbelief.

Mrs. Wells betrayed no hint that she was impressed by her surroundings. She simply waited patiently, her expression serene. Apparently, Sarah’s mother’s theory that Mrs. Wells would be intimidated by her “betters” was unfounded.

“Mrs. Wells, I’m so glad you’re here,” Sarah said. “Maeve and Gina, you both look lovely.”

The girls smiled tentatively, gratified at the compliment but still nervous and unsure of themselves.

“We appreciate your invitation, Mrs. Brandt,” Mrs. Wells said. “Although you didn’t have to send a carriage for us.”

“My mother insisted,” Sarah said. “The weather forecast was for showers, and besides, she doesn’t like the idea of ladies traveling unaccompanied in the city at night.” Sarah was aware of the irony, since she herself frequently traveled unaccompanied in the city at night. “Please come upstairs. Everyone is anxious to meet you.”

“Come along, girls,” Mrs. Wells said encouragingly when they hesitated to follow her and Sarah up the grand staircase. They exchanged an anxious glance before obeying.

When they reached the ballroom, Sarah’s parents greeted them. After introductions had been made, Mrs. Decker took charge of Mrs. Wells and proceeded to introduce her to other guests, leaving the two girls standing alone in stunned silence as they took in the grand room and the sumptuously clad guests.

“Would you girls like something to eat?” Sarah asked.

They nodded, perhaps too frightened to speak aloud, and Sarah escorted them over to the buffet table. Gina came eagerly, but Maeve displayed her usual reluctance to trust Sarah.

“Who is all this food for?” Gina asked in a whisper.