And this is my new chapter which I hope will be a nice read. Thank you isabella for the kind review . You'll see what Mary will do about Tina in this chapter. Thank you all for reading.

Perhaps I ought to write a letter to Jane or Lizzie. They must be worried for my sake. The rain beats down my window and the yellow paper turns blue in the light. I already see my words, the letters round and small.

Madeline's letter saddened me. I kept it in my breast pocket. It reminded me of my duty as a sister.

Dear Jane,

I am writing you to let you know I am alright. I pray that you, my sisters and your family are safe and sound. I have found employment and I am content. I hope I can see you soon. I would inquire after everyone and ask for details but I cannot give you my address.

I looked over it and cried. What had I become? Between the sheets of water in front of me I could see the man I loved. He was probably sleeping under ground, if he had ever been buried. This made me fear – what if he had been thrown somewhere, forgotten, perished and unloved?

I lit a candle for him and prayed.

Did God still love me? I knew He loved us all, but did He really love me anymore?

That evening, as I was stitching my petticoat here and there Louise told me Madeline was not better. In fact, she was half-dying and would soon perish. Madam Morceau was very displeased with this turn of events, so much more now that the physician had recommended expensive medicine.

The only thing Madeline ever talked of was her little sister. She called and beckoned her all the time.

I looked at the letter in my breast pocket. I could perhaps come to her aid.

Near dawn, when the men had left, I sat at my desk, weary with sleep and wrote Tina's reply.

Dear Madeline,

How kind of you to have written. I do miss you terribly. I wish you could be here with me, only Frank will not allow it. He has sent his sister, however, to make amends for him. I did not lie to you, for she does enjoy riding horses, but she is too much of a lady to admit it. How are you fairing my dear? How is everyone? I hope you are well.

All my love,

Tina

In the afternoon I put on my best dress and went to visit poor Madeline, showing her the wonderful letter…from Tina.

'Here, Madeline,' I said stroking her sweaty forehead gently. 'This is from Tina. She has sent me an epistle for you.'

Madeline's eyes turned into two orbs of delight as she half-rose in her bed and grasped the letter between her thin fingers.

After having read the contents five times she finally looked up, in tears.

'Oh, Miss, oh what wonderful news! Oh, she misses me. Poor dear, if she finds out I am ill she shall be very upset,' she said pulling off the quilt.

'Do not make haste, Madeline. Your sister would not want you to distress yourself.'

'I do not feel well, I confess,' she said sourly, grasping the letter to her chest.

'You look very pale indeed. Perhaps a walk would come in handy. Your sister made me promise I would take you for a walk.'

'Oh, she's so caring, she never thinks of anyone else. Would you walk with me?' Madeline asked smiling.

We both crept out of the house and walked down the leaky streets, in a very grey light. My dress was already five inches deep in mud, but she seemed to be floating, as she clung to me, looking around wildly.

They were building a new house around the corner and the sound of hammers and wood seemed to fog her mind.

We walked for a long time; until we were close to the centre of town.

'Let us eat something. What would you like Madeline?'

She coughed in her handkerchief and smiled.

'Nothing Miss, I thank you but I have no money and it would not do to trespass on your kindness.'

'Oh but Madeline! You offend me if you do not let me offer my kindness as I choose. Let us eat some cake. Some fine rich cake.'

She laughed in her blood stained handkerchief.

'Oh, I haven't eaten such a thing in years…since I was a little girl.'

'Well then, we shall have just that,' I intoned as we directed our steps towards a bakery.

'Miss, how is my sister faring then? Will she come to see me soon?' she inquired.

'Well Madeline, she is up to her eyes in work at home for er…my brother, Frank, is lost without her but as soon as she can tear herself away…' I mumbled.

'There's no rush, after all, I'd like her to see me all well and right, not like this in any case.'

I smiled pitifully at the pale woman who was crumbling right before my eyes. And I loathed that Tina girl with a passion, because it was all her fault. She had escaped from this world, but had not taken anyone else with her; she had been selfish and horrid.

But I wondered – If I were ever offered this chance, would I do the same? Not that it would happen to me. I knew better than to expect anything resembling marriage.

We ate cake and I purchased some new hats and shoes for her and even though I spent all my savings for two weeks I was glad to see a smile at the corner of her lips.

The afternoon passed like a breeze and sooner than not the wind started blowing and shadows were cast over the town. We ambled through the park for a while, until Madeline was too tired and we had to sit down on a bench for a while.

She leant against me for she was feeling faint and I told her quietly that we would return to her home soon.

'Bah…my home! That is no home. It is only a sad recluse for souls like mine. It surely did not suit Tina. She was a sweet angel. I'm glad she no longer dwells there,' she said coughing.

'Do not exert yourself too much. Madeline, you deserve just as much to be free from that abode as your sister was,' I answered pulling back some strands of her hair.

She smiled at me and took my hand.

'Oh, I know my place Miss…I know my place. I wouldn't dare…' she said but paused and looked up at the sky. 'It is getting darker.'

'Yes, we'll need to part.'

'Oh, I don't think I can get up anymore, my chest hurts terribly.'

'Yet we must, for you must take your medicine. I will tend to you when we get home,' I said, a worried expression crossing my face.

Madeline glanced at me and nodded, though I could see she had no intention of moving. She was serene, sitting there with me, enjoying the darkening scenery of the park. The soothing green did her well.

Madeline took my hand.

'Thank you for caring for a burden like me,' she whispered and I made to protest but she silenced me.

'I know who you really are,' she said chuckling. My face turned whiter than snow I believe.

'Tina is not coming back and I would not want her to. It is best if we rest here, Mary,' she added and put her head on my shoulder.

I stood still for several moments because I was too shocked to move. I had thought her irrational, but she knew it had been me!

After a quarter of an hour or so, I made to move and wake her, but she would not stir.

Her heart had stopped beating, but there was a small smile on her face.

Madeline was dead. And I started weeping silently, on the bench.


Yet again I had to delve into my earnings to bury her properly. I had a service done for her in a very small chapel and she was put in the ground in my presence and Claudia's only. I wrote to her insolent sister telling her of what had sadly transpired.

In four weeks or so, we received a parcel full of letters. They were all addressed to Madeline, from Tina. They had to be more than two hundred. Claudia and I read them all and we discovered that Tina had meant to write her sister all this time and come and see her, but her husband had not allowed her, saying it would have been disgraceful for their family. Frank had threatened to leave her if she made any attempts to rekindle her relations. Now that Madeline was dead, she had dared send all her letters. All the epistles she should have sent.

I felt desolate and repulsed by everyone around me. That a man could bend a woman like that, could make her part from her own sister, it was hateful!

Whoever this man was he was not worthy of his name.

I took all the letters with me and buried them in Madeline's grave, so she could find peace.

I wondered how Tina could be happy. It is true that she was away from here, leading a decent life, erasing her foul past…but she was made to deny who she was, made to deny who she loved and worst of all, denigrated simply because she had attempted to survive in a world where women in her circumstances had not much hope.

I noticed that after the poor woman's demise everyone in the house started paying me more respect. All the girls thought I had done something out of the ordinary. I wasn't a good Christian in their eyes, how could I be? But I was a "nice girl" as they put it. They had all pitied Madeline to some extent and now they felt my gesture was theirs as well.

Some even began talking to me, but only when no one was watching.


Claudia on the other hand pitied me for having spent all my money.

'It is hard enough to make do here, but your charity has left your barren.'

'I do not mind at all,' I proclaimed proudly, but in the next few days I felt my lack of money sorely as I could not pay the hot meals at lunch and Madam Morceau did not spare me one bit. I couldn't pay for the hot water either so I had to wash my clothes by myself in ice cold water and my hands turned to ash in just three days. I almost came down with a cold because of the frozen water. But I kept to my old ways and refused the face painting and the fancy dresses some of the girls lent me, for I would earn the money the way I wished it, not using any subterfuges. I promised myself I would be a maid in bed, even though we were all called harlots.

I had never enjoyed at least one night with any man, as married women do. I could never see what the pleasures of a conjugal life meant to some, I only say boredom and pain in it. Sharing a bed in this manner was a bother, most of the times.

I never liked the beginning, or the middle, but I liked the end, when we talked and comforted each other in some way or another. That was the happiest time for I could delve into people's thoughts and find out all new things about town, about politics and the war and France and new books I was just dying to read. I also heard many beautiful, tragic or unbelievable stories that men had lived to tell. And I felt honoured, because sometimes I imagined they did not even share these secrets with their friends or spouses. It was a perk of being so close yet so far from a soul.

Their lives followed me everywhere I turned and in my hour of need I remembered their stories and somehow it cheered me up.