“Come in,” she called distractedly, wondering what or whom Mr. Kirk hated with such virulence and why Reeve McKenna’s mistress would call upon him in such a bold fashion.

A very young maid with curly red hair and freckles across her nose came in, struggling through the doorway with a heavy tray. Maggie rushed to relieve the girl of her burden.

“Here’s your supper, then,” the woman-child said, smiling shyly as Maggie set the tray down on the round wooden table that stood between the two fancy chairs facing the fireplace.

Maggie felt very lonely all of a sudden, and very far from familiar people and places. “Won’t you sit down?” she asked, pouring a cup of tea from the small pot on the tray and frowning because there was only one cup. “You look as though you could use a rest.”

“Mrs. Lavendar would have my head if I did that, Miss Margaret. Wouldn’t be right nor proper.”

Maggie smiled over the rim of her teacup. “You know my name,” she pointed out, surprised by the formality with which the girl spoke. “What is yours, may I ask?”

The maid cast a nervous glance back toward the open door. “Susan,” she answered, in a whisper. “Susan Crockett.”

“Well, Susan Crockett, you may address me as Maggie, if you please. No one has ever called me Margaret. I’m not even sure why my mother bothered to give me the name.”

Susan paled beneath her freckles and her springy red hair glistened in the light as she shook her head. “I daren’t call you anything but what Mrs. Lavendar told me to, and that’s Miss Margaret, beggin’ your pardon.” She took a step closer and kept her voice at whisper level. “’Tis only a month till I get me certificate, you see.”

Maggie did see: The importance of earning a certificate had been stressed at the Girls’ Friendly Society. What she did not understand was why she should be given a room fit for an honored houseguest instead of a cot upstairs, in the servants’ quarters, why she should be served her dinner in her chamber, why Mr. Kirk should feel called upon to provide her with new clothes. Unfortunately, Susan wasn’t the person to ask. Maggie would have to keep her questions to herself, at least until Saturday afternoon, when she would have free time. She would then seek out Tansy and find out what she needed to know.

With a brief nod, Susan crept out of the room and closed the door behind her, leaving Maggie to eat her portion of succulent pork pie in solitude. For all her misgivings about her sumptuous quarters and the shopping expedition tomorrow, she was hungry, and she consumed the small pie, vegetables, and biscuits, as well as vanilla pudding.