this issue with the Gilbert children. Mrs. Plumsbly’s daughter is granting her more grandchildren any day now. I’ve already told her that she may take as much time as she needs to attend her daughter.” Athena smiled and pulled the door closed on her brother’s sputtering.
* * *
“Oysters?” Matilda said weakly.
“Crate of it at a most expedient price. Couldn’t pass is up,” Fran Sheldon replied.
Matilda and her father were inspecting the boxes stacked in the cold room behind the kitchens of Maplewood. “I doubt these children will have much taste for oysters.” She looked up at her father’s face. His enthusiasm was dwindling. “But The Sheldon Home for Children is most grateful for your contribution.”
“And there are sacks of flour and sugar. Potatoes. Jarred fruit,” Fran Sheldon said with a wide smile. “Cook helped with the list I took to the grocers. Can’t buy fresh goods till your little ones are in and settled.”
Whenever the Sheldon family’s eagerness waned, Matilda mentioned the name of the orphanage, and undoubtedly, they rallied. “You went to the market yourself?” Matilda asked.
“Never seen anything like it. Franklin and I spent the whole day there. They sell everything, I tell you, Matilda. Everything,” Fran said enthusiastically.
Matilda nodded weakly. She wondered if her father believed their household supplies appeared magically in the pantry. “Imagine that,” Matilda said. She heard her mother calling her father’s name.
“Fran, dear?”
“Right here, darling,” Fran called from the door.
Frances Sheldon stepped into the cool room. “You simply must take me to the booksellers this instant, my dear.”
“Certainly, dear,” Fran Sheldon replied. “You wish to purchase a book?”
“I’m in a dreadful pickle, Fran.” Francis turned to her daughter. “Oh Matilda, I didn’t see you there.”
“A pickle, Mother?” Matilda asked.
“Are we having company, my dear?” Francis asked as she surveyed the stacked boxes.
“Company? Not on my schedule, I don’t believe. James usually alerts me to that sort of thing. Why do you ask?” Fran said.
“The store room is quite full,” Francis replied. “I don’t have guests on my schedule either. I wonder what Cook was thinking?”
Fran Sheldon laughed and touched his wife’s arm. “These are supplies for Matilda’s orphanage, my dear. Franklin and I spent the entire day yesterday at the markets. I simply must take you there.”
“The markets?” Francis asked. “What all do they sell?”
Matilda clapped her hands together, and her parents turned.
“Yes, dear,” they said in unison.
“A pickle, Mother?” Matilda asked. “What seems to be the problem?”
“Didn’t get pickles, Matilda,” Fran said. “No room in the barouche for a barrel.”
“Mother. You said when you walked in here you had to get to the booksellers. You said you were in a pickle.”
Fran and Frances looked at each other and laughed. “A pickle?” her father said. “You didn’t get any,” her mother replied.
Matilda’s eye twitched. “Is there something Father or I could help you with?”
Frances Sheldon stared at her daughter. The light of recognition shone moments later. “Dreadful situation, dear. Your father simply must take me to the booksellers.”
“What do you need at the bookseller, Mother?” Matilda asked.
“Books, I would wager,” Fran Sheldon replied.
Frances laid a hand on her husband’s cheek and smiled. “So very clever you are, Fran. That is exactly what I need. It’s as if you can read my mind.”
“We have an extensive library, Mother,” Matilda said. Although she privately wondered if her mother had ever ventured into that room of the house.
“I know, dear,” Frances said to Matilda. “I was there this very morning.”
Matilda waited for her mother to continue. She did not. “What were you looking for in the library? Perhaps I can help,” Matilda said.
“Why
* * *
“Oysters?” Matilda said weakly.
“Crate of it at a most expedient price. Couldn’t pass is up,” Fran Sheldon replied.
Matilda and her father were inspecting the boxes stacked in the cold room behind the kitchens of Maplewood. “I doubt these children will have much taste for oysters.” She looked up at her father’s face. His enthusiasm was dwindling. “But The Sheldon Home for Children is most grateful for your contribution.”
“And there are sacks of flour and sugar. Potatoes. Jarred fruit,” Fran Sheldon said with a wide smile. “Cook helped with the list I took to the grocers. Can’t buy fresh goods till your little ones are in and settled.”
Whenever the Sheldon family’s eagerness waned, Matilda mentioned the name of the orphanage, and undoubtedly, they rallied. “You went to the market yourself?” Matilda asked.
“Never seen anything like it. Franklin and I spent the whole day there. They sell everything, I tell you, Matilda. Everything,” Fran said enthusiastically.
Matilda nodded weakly. She wondered if her father believed their household supplies appeared magically in the pantry. “Imagine that,” Matilda said. She heard her mother calling her father’s name.
“Fran, dear?”
“Right here, darling,” Fran called from the door.
Frances Sheldon stepped into the cool room. “You simply must take me to the booksellers this instant, my dear.”
“Certainly, dear,” Fran Sheldon replied. “You wish to purchase a book?”
“I’m in a dreadful pickle, Fran.” Francis turned to her daughter. “Oh Matilda, I didn’t see you there.”
“A pickle, Mother?” Matilda asked.
“Are we having company, my dear?” Francis asked as she surveyed the stacked boxes.
“Company? Not on my schedule, I don’t believe. James usually alerts me to that sort of thing. Why do you ask?” Fran said.
“The store room is quite full,” Francis replied. “I don’t have guests on my schedule either. I wonder what Cook was thinking?”
Fran Sheldon laughed and touched his wife’s arm. “These are supplies for Matilda’s orphanage, my dear. Franklin and I spent the entire day yesterday at the markets. I simply must take you there.”
“The markets?” Francis asked. “What all do they sell?”
Matilda clapped her hands together, and her parents turned.
“Yes, dear,” they said in unison.
“A pickle, Mother?” Matilda asked. “What seems to be the problem?”
“Didn’t get pickles, Matilda,” Fran said. “No room in the barouche for a barrel.”
“Mother. You said when you walked in here you had to get to the booksellers. You said you were in a pickle.”
Fran and Frances looked at each other and laughed. “A pickle?” her father said. “You didn’t get any,” her mother replied.
Matilda’s eye twitched. “Is there something Father or I could help you with?”
Frances Sheldon stared at her daughter. The light of recognition shone moments later. “Dreadful situation, dear. Your father simply must take me to the booksellers.”
“What do you need at the bookseller, Mother?” Matilda asked.
“Books, I would wager,” Fran Sheldon replied.
Frances laid a hand on her husband’s cheek and smiled. “So very clever you are, Fran. That is exactly what I need. It’s as if you can read my mind.”
“We have an extensive library, Mother,” Matilda said. Although she privately wondered if her mother had ever ventured into that room of the house.
“I know, dear,” Frances said to Matilda. “I was there this very morning.”
Matilda waited for her mother to continue. She did not. “What were you looking for in the library? Perhaps I can help,” Matilda said.
“Why
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