“I don’t like it,” she said flatly.
Audrey’s heart sunk. “Mother, come inside. It’s been repainted and refurbished just for us. Look how warm and inviting it is.”
Her mother stepped into the cottage and surveyed the rooms. Just as Frances hopped about and jumped on the beds, Augusta sighed heavily. “This isn’t up to our standards.”
Disappointment filled Audrey. “We have no standards, Mother. I am staff at the workhouse, and they have graciously given us this cottage to live in.”
“Mmmm,” her mother said coolly.
“We should be grateful. I’m very grateful.”
Augusta turned her tired eyes to her daughter. “It’s so easy for you, Audrey. All of this is easy for you. You haven’t had your entire life turned upside down just when life should be easier.”
“I haven’t, huh?” Audrey said.
Augusta pursed her lips. “No, Audrey. You haven’t. You are young enough to recover from this and move on with your life.”
Audrey’s hope and excitement for her mother and sister’s return vanished. She felt heavy with her words. “You are right, Mother.”
She watched Augusta sit in the parlor, running her fingers along the table for dirt.
“I have a club meeting I must attend. I will return after supper,” she said tiredly. “There’s food in the pantry.”
As she left, she heard her mother tell Frances, “This won’t do at all.”
Audrey tried to smile throughout the club meeting, but she saw Theodocia looking at her often and felt the pinprick of tears behind her eyes. She wanted to sob and cry and have someone hold her and tell her it would be all right. Nothing of the sort would happen. When the meeting ended, the women dispersed while Audrey remained seated.
“Can you remain behind for a moment, Audrey?” Theodocia asked.
“Of course.” She watched the women leave one by one until only they remained. Often, she rushed home to avoid running into Henry, but today she had no energy to do anything but sit upon the plush sofa and face Theodocia, who sat down beside her.
“My dear, you don’t look at all yourself.”
“I don’t feel myself.” She tried to smile but it would not come. “I picked up my mother and sister from the train station today.”
“Oh, yes! That’s right. And?” Theodocia said brightly.
Audrey took a deep breath. “My mother isn’t pleased with the arrangements.”
“I see.”
“I don’t think she realizes how hard I’ve worked. How I came to a place that was unknown to me to try to make a life for us. I’m not feeling sorry for myself. But it’s been hard. And lonely. I was so excited to show off that little cottage. That stupid little cottage—” She felt the tears fall upon her cheeks, and she wiped them away.
“Audrey, your mother is of a different time. A different generation.” Theodocia squeezed her hands.
“She’s the same age as you and you’re nothing alike,” Audrey pointed out.
Theodocia gave her a sympathetic look. “I like to keep with the times. Change is good. It keeps you young. I expect your mother abhors change.”
Audrey sniffed. “My father’s death has been difficult. I don’t think I realized how hard. I’ve had to take action and do what I must. She’s just inside her head. Sitting there all day. Thinking.”
“You must be kind to her. She’s not strong like you,” Theodocia noted. “She hasn’t your intelligence. So instead of trying to find a solution as you did, she will lash out.”
They both heard the door open and close, and then Henry called out, “Mother?”
He stepped into the low gaslights of the room and was about to smile when he saw Audrey. His expression changed and shuttered. “Ms. Wakefield.”
“Mr. Ryland.”