Henrietta paused to look at the photograph in the cheap, gilded frame one more time. It was a picture of Helen Schuyler and her husband, Neils, and their baby daughter, Daphne, taken what must have been years ago. Even as Henrietta sat staring at the people in the photograph, it was still hard for her to believe that they were all tragically gone now. Gingerly she ran her finger along the frame, an overwhelming sadness coming over her once again at the realization that nothing more remained of this little family except the few possessions among which she currently sat.

Helen, the Howards' elderly, retired cook, had died in the hospital, never having recovered from Jack Fletcher's brutal attack nearly three months ago, and the cottage had stood empty over the summer until Henrietta had recently volunteered to clean it out. Mrs. Howard had initially declared Henrietta's odd proposal to be out of the question, that the servants would do it eventually, but Henrietta had practically begged, saying that she needed an occupation separate from the wedding plans and that, anyway, she wanted to. Henrietta had never said it out loud, and she knew that it wasn't really true, but she could not help feeling at times that she was somehow responsible for what had happened to Helen.

Despite Henrietta's pleading, Mrs. Howard had sniffed at her suggestion, saying that Henrietta had precious little free time for anything but to attend to the wedding plans, still slightly irritated by Henrietta and Clive's decision to marry quickly. In the end, however, after a quiet word in private from Clive, she had acquiesced.

Henrietta had eagerly set about her new task, then, earlier this week, but even now, on Friday, she was still not finished. The problem was not that there were so very many items to be sorted, but rather that she was perpetually getting distracted. It was unlike her, but then again, she had a lot on her mind.

Henrietta shook herself and, looking at the photograph once again, hesitated before having to put it into either the box set aside for rubbish to be burned by Mr. McCreanney, or into one of the other boxes of items slated to be given to Sacred Heart's collection for the poor. Neither seemed an appropriate choice, so after a few more moments of deliberation, Henrietta resolutely slipped the small frame into the pocket of her apron. It was the least she could do for poor Helen to honor not only her memory but that of the daughter to whom she had been so delusionally devoted, despite the fact that Daphne herself had died over twenty years before. Henrietta wasn't sure what she was going to do with the photograph, but she would think of something.

She sighed as she opened another drawer of the dresser in the tiny bedroom, trying to determine what could still be of use to the poor. She held up an old-fashioned petticoat and wondered if anyone would still want such a thing. Finally deciding that someone with even mediocre sewing skills could make it into something else more useful if desperate enough, she carefully placed it in the Sacred Heart box. She scooped up the remaining petticoats and other undergarments and put them into the same box as well and then gave in to the urge to sit down again on Helen's lumpy bed. She stared out the open window to the lake beyond, the unassuming lace curtain permanently aloft on the gentle breeze that blew in, and reflected that not too long ago she herself had been nearly that desperate.

She anxiously hoped that Elsie and Ma were adjusting to their new place with all of the kids. She had helped them to get settled on moving day, of course, but the servants had done most of the real work. In truth, she actually was needed at Highbury for the myriad of things to be done for the wedding, so Ma and Elsie had had to do most of the unpacking themselves with the help of the permanent staff that now resided with them, which consisted, really, of only five persons, namely, a cook, a housekeeper, one maid, one nanny, and one man servant who doubled as the butler and the chauffeur. Ma, of course, had at first fought tooth and nail against such an arrangement, but, in the end, the fight had just gone out of her and she had given in.

Henrietta drew in a sharp breath as she remembered the day Ma had finally been reunited with her long-lost family, the Exleys. Not long after the engagement party at which Ma had failed to appear, the Exleys had lost little time in seeking out Martha on their own terms. As much as John and Agatha Exley were bosom friends with the Howards, old Mr. Exley Sr. decided that this was a family affair and was loath to use Antonia Howard as a go-between any longer. He had sent a direct letter to his daughter, but Ma had merely crumpled it, unread, and thrown it into the fire, or so Henrietta had learned via a whispered telephone call from Elsie made from the booth at the back of Kreske's. Henrietta had then received her own letter from her grandfather, requesting her help in his reunion with his only daughter. Henrietta, knowing that nothing would induce Ma to come to Lake Forest where the Exleys resided, had, after much thought, dutifully written to her grandfather and suggested a time when he might condescend to visit them at their shabby apartment in Logan Square.

There was nothing else for it. Something had to be done, Henrietta had realized. It was bad enough that Ma had not come to the engagement party, but it would be inexcusable for her not to attend her oldest daughter's wedding. Besides, now that they knew of Ma's whereabouts, Henrietta was certain the Exleys would not rest until they were reunited with her, so it was best, she reasoned, to get it over with.

Henrietta had accordingly gone home a few days before Mr. Exley Sr.'s expected visit to surreptitiously prepare, having chosen to not inform Ma of his coming until the very morning of the momentous event. When Henrietta did finally reveal the secret of Mr. Exley's imminent arrival, Ma was livid, of course, and screamed at both Henrietta and Elsie — as if she were also in on it — before she finally threw a plate against the wall, shattering it, and had then dissolved into tears. Elsie had abandoned her task of dusting and went to tend to her, while Henrietta had picked up the broken pieces of the smashed plate and continued to methodically scrub down the apartment and each of her siblings as well. She sent Eddie out to Schneider's to buy some decent tea and biscuits, with actual money rather than having to put it on their long charge bill, as they had had to do in the past. Clive had given Henrietta money to pay off their debts and to sustain them until a more formal arrangement could be agreed upon. Ma had predictably refused to have anything to do with the extra cash, so Henrietta had entrusted it to Elsie for the days when she had to be away at Highbury, which, as it was turning out, was most of the time.

And so, with just about an hour left before Mr. Exley was due to arrive, Henrietta made Herbert and Jimmy scrub the landing outside their front door, to no real avail, really, but it made Henrietta feel better to have it done. Eugene, meanwhile, had spent the morning out somewhere and, having only returned just before Mr. Exley's arrival, was informed of his auspicious relative's imminent visit as he lazily climbed the stairs, Jimmy shouting out the exciting news from his knees as he scrubbed. Not sharing Jimmy's excitement at...