“It’s all right,” Hanna said. “Whatever it is, I’m sure I’ve heard it before.”

Bess nodded. “She said she didn’t know that Chinamen could be Christian.”

Hanna had indeed heard that before. “I didn’t know they couldn’t,” she replied.

A brief silence. Hanna had saved the hardest part for last. “Your ma didn’t come,” she said.

“Oh! Ma got all the washing in off the line and had to iron this morning,” Bess said blithely. “She said she’ll come one of these days.”

Hanna knew that ironing was not the only reason for Mrs. Harris’s absence. But it seemed that Bess wanted to think the best of her mother, and Hanna could hardly blame her. Mama could not have been perfect, but that was how Hanna remembered her.

Mothers and daughters . . .

She had a blinding flash of insight then, about her encounters with the Indian women. During their first meeting, Wichapiwin could have observed that no one except Papa was making the journey with Hanna. Wichapiwin might well have surmised that Hanna was motherless.

I thought it was me being kind, when really she was the one making sure that I didn’t feel left out.

The opposite of how Mrs. Harris had made her feel. She wondered if she would ever get the chance to thank Wichapiwin.

“Do you think your ma will let you keep working here?” Hanna asked.

Papa had taken no fewer than seven orders from women who wanted dresses made up. More than enough work to keep Bess on until she had to leave to teach school. Hanna had already begun designing the dresses in her head, and every one of them would have a tiny pink lotus embroidered somewhere on the inside.

“Yes,” Bess said immediately. “She let me come to the opening. She even told Pa to give me a ride here in the wagon.”

Perhaps Mrs. Harris’s reason for allowing Bess to continue working at the shop had more to do with family income than anything else. But Hanna wondered if the change of mind might one day lead to a change of heart as well.

27

THE PARTY BEGAN TO quiet down toward midmorning, as the guests departed to see to preparing dinner for their families. With only a few people left lingering in the shop, the bells tinkled as the door opened yet again.

Sam Baxter entered with his little sister, Pearl.

“Hello, Hanna,” he said.

“Hello, Sam. Hello, Pearl.” Hanna was surprised to see him—and doubly surprised by how glad she was.

“I’ve brought Pearl to visit your new shop,” Sam said.

“I figured it wasn’t the other way round,” Hanna replied with a smile.

He laughed. “I’m not much for dresses,” he teased back.

Pearl was looking around, her eyes large with amazement. “Can I see that?” She pointed at the button box.