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could go for a drive after lunch?" she asked. She remembered a weekend spent with Bobbie, and her father had the stable hand take them on a drive through the countryside. It was a glorious way to spend a Sunday in her opinion.
Karl shrugged, nodding. "Do you like to go for drives?"
"If it's not too cold, I love to. I haven't had much chance to do it, though."
He frowned at that. "What was your childhood like?"
Sarah smiled at that. "I believe I told you that I'm the youngest of seven children. I have four sisters and two brothers. My parents were both Irish immigrants who met in school when they were young. They married as soon as they were old enough, and Papa went to work in one of the factories there in Lawrence." She paused. "Did you know that Lawrence, Massachusetts, is a mill town? Many of the textile factories in our country are right there."
He shook his head. "I didn't know that. Was that also where you worked?"
"Yes, but much later. My parents were so much in love. Mama would sing as she worked, and she'd hurry to fix her hair right before Papa was due home. Papa would walk a mile out of his way during the spring and summer to pick wildflowers for her. We never had the money to pay for flowers, but that didn't matter to Mama. She was so much happier with the flowers he picked anyway. As soon as my brothers were old enough they worked in the factories as well, but Papa didn't want any of his girls there." She frowned. "He died in an accident at the mill when I was just fifteen."
"I'm so sorry." Karl had lost his parents young as well, but he'd been finished with school at least.
"My brothers kept supporting us, but Mama died when I was eighteen. She'd never been strong." Her eyes grew wistful as she talked about her mother. "So my friend Bobbie and I found two other friends to live with, and we found a job in the factory we were working in up until six weeks ago."
"Did you enjoy working there?" he asked, wondering just how hard it had been on her to work in a place like that.
She shrugged. "It wasn't good at first, because there was a man who ran it, and he was always mean to the women. He docked our pay for every little thing. But he moved away after our first two years there, and Bobbie was promoted to the manager. She was really good at what she did, but more importantly, her father was friends with Bob Brown, the owner of the mill."
"So you worked for your friend after that?"
Sarah nodded. "Everything was so much better after Bobbie took over. I actually liked my work then. Well, as much as you can like using a sewing machine all day."
"Where is Bobbie now?" he asked.
"Wisconsin. But she arrived at her destination many hours before I did, so I know she's far away."
"I'm sorry," he said, covering her hand with his. "Will the two of you write each other?"
"Oh, yes. I'll write my other roommates as well."
"And they were?"
"Poppy and Gabrielle. Neither of them came from good homes. When you really think about it, of all of us, I'm the only one who came from a good home. The other three were all good people though. I do wish Gabrielle didn't have so much disdain for God's people, but I understand why she does."
"Bobbie didn't come from a good home?"
"Well, she did and she didn't. She was born to a very wealthy couple, who didn't like each other. When Bobbie was ten, her father kicked her and her mother out, because his mistress was having his baby. She has two younger brothers she's never even met, despite living in the same city with them."
"That's sad."
Sarah nodded. "It is. What about you? What was your upbringing like?"
He shrugged. "We lived in Germany until I was eleven, and then we came here to Wisconsin. Father thought he wanted to be a dairy farmer, but he ended up working in a lumber mill instead. It wasn't long before he owned the whole operation. He died in a work accident, so my brother and I own the mills now."
"I see. Where's your mother?"
"She died of a broken heart. Father died
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