They leaped into action, thrilled to have a task. Mr. Sutton rushed away to fetch the water, while Laura ushered me down the hall to a room where the blessed rehydration could take place.

“The west parlor,” she said, with a subtle flourish of her slim hand. “Please make yourself comfortable.”

I looked around as she steered me toward a small sofa. The room was like something from a museum—every detail looked as if it had been left untouched for a hundred years. The walls were polished wood, adorned with large paintings of horses and hunting dogs. The furniture was ornate and old-fashioned. The love seat I found myself on was upholstered in a satiny fabric of blue and white stripes, with tufted green velvet pillows nestled in the corners.

Mr. Albright waited off to the side while Mrs. Sutton perched on a leather armchair and looked at me like I was the dessert cart at a fancy restaurant.

“Was the drive all right?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said. “Thank you.”

“Long, though, wasn’t it?” She glanced almost accusingly at Mr. Albright, as if the distance were somehow his fault. “Did you get lunch?”

“A long ride, but very pretty,” I said. “And yes, we did have lunch.”

“We stopped in Hopkins,” Mr. Albright said in his own defense. “We had sandwiches.”

“Oh, Hopkins, that’s good,” she said, relaxing and sitting back. Then she sat up again. “You have to tell me if there’s anything we can get for you. We aren’t in town every day, but we can send out if there’s something you require.”

I was about to deflect the question, but then I realized I had a real need. “I could use a toothbrush, I guess,” I said. “I left mine at Palmer House.”

“Palmer House,” she repeated. “Is that where you were staying?”

I nodded.

“Was it nice? Did you have friends?”

I stared straight into her eyes, which were nearly the same brown as the wood paneling on the walls behind her. Despite her kindness, their undeniable generosity toward me, I couldn’t help feeling that this was all some kind of assessment. A test.

Better pass it.

“Oh, yes,” I said. “It was very nice. I had a lot of friends.”

I could feel Mr. Albright’s eyes on me. “Excellent facility,” he agreed. “Bright, a lot of natural light.”

“That’s good,” she said, compassion in her voice. “I imagine the girls there have all had a hard time. It’s nice to think they have a comfortable place to live. I—I guess I just don’t feel that girls belong in ‘facilities.’ But of course that’s not a problem for you any longer. You live here, Margaret, with us. And you absolutely must let us know what we can do to make you feel at home.”