Bessie’s forehead wrinkled as she thought. “I asked about little Maggie Penny, when her bed weren’t slept in. It’s up to me to tidy in the mornings when the kids are having breakfast. They make their own beds, but I smooth out the covers while I’m doing the dusting, so when the matrons come in and inspect, the little ones don’t get into trouble. Mrs. Shaw—she’s the housekeeper in the wing I do—told me Maggie Penny had been adopted by a good family, and matron said that was right. We pushed her bed to the wall, and it will stay bare until comes the next girl who’s old enough for that ward.”

“Then nothing struck you as odd?”

“No.” Bessie shook her head, curls dancing. “None of them have much in the way of things, but Maggie’s little box was empty, her clothes gone. So it must be all right.” Bessie’s gaze told me she wanted me to agree with her. “If she were snatched by wicked people, her things would still be there, wouldn’t they? And the matrons and director would be in a tizzy.”

“That is true.” This was the first I’d heard that the girl’s things had been packed up, which pointed to the fact that her absence had been planned. “But something isn’t right. Do you think you can ask Mrs. Shaw, or the other maids, or the matron if they knew anything about Maggie leaving? Without putting the wind up anyone?”

“I can.” Bessie looked confident. “I’ve been passing messages to my bloke for a year and a half with none being the wiser. But shouldn’t we send for the police? They’re useless most of the time, but maybe they could help.”

I shook my head. “My friends have asked me not to. They don’t want to bring the law down on the Foundling Hospital and ruin its reputation if nothing is truly wrong.”

Then again, the person who’d come to Daniel and me instead of the police was Mr. Fielding. The more I became acquainted with him, the more I realized Mr. Fielding did most things only to benefit himself. But then again, he had truly cared for Nurse Betts and her death had struck him hard. A complex man, was Mr. Fielding.

“If you can keep your eyes open, I would thank you,” I said. “And if the police do need to be called in, I certainly won’t hesitate to do so.”

Bessie regarded me with intelligent eyes. “You’re a good woman, Mrs. Holloway, I can see. I don’t know much what you can do, but I’ll have a butcher’s and tell you what I learn.”

“Thank you, dear.”

She nodded at me, her face dirt-streaked, eyes red from the grit that had fallen around us. We sipped our tea in silence, understanding each other.

*   *   *