Providence was careful not to prick her finger as she pushed her threaded needle through the fabric caught between an embroidery ring. She glanced over at Ottaline who was swaying softly to the piano music. She had long finished her Noah's Ark sampler and was now making a garden of pansies.

Providence looked down at her slowly forming bunny. She wished she could just rip it apart and start anew, but Ottaline recommended she finished. When the piano music stopped both girls looked up from their work.

"All right, it's dancing hour." Granville said though the dancing lasted for much less than that. "What shall I play?"

"Greensleeves," Ottaline said.

"We did that two nights ago," Providence said to her sister then looked at Mr. Heritage. "Sir, will you play that lovely music box tune? The one the carousal plays."

Granville's brows started down then he smiled. "I see you have been exploring again," he said. He started the tune, jumpy, on the piano and the sisters put down their embroidery and jumped up from their seats. They moved gracefully in their satin house slipper across the floor.

Baby in the cradle

Fox in the rye

Four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie

Bride in the attic

Wolf at the door

These are the things of legend and lore

They played through twice and when the sisters were tired they sat to rub their feet.

"Mr. Heritage," Providence began. "What is the name of that song?"

Granville rubbed his left shoulder. "I just call it Brigit's Rhyme." he said. "She wrote it. She used to play it on her harp all the time."

"But how did it get in a music box?" Providence asked.

"My father gifted that to her when she came out," Granville said. "He had it made."

Providence smiled. "He must have loved her very much."

"My father was never ashamed to show affection for his children," Granville said. "We could come to him with anything and he'd help us. Yet he always made us pay for our mistakes. He never covered for us."

"My daddy would do the same," Providence said. "He says it would make us responsible adults."

"And respectable," Ottaline added, having gone back to her embroidery.

"Mr. Heritage?"

"Yes, Providence?"

"What did you go to school for?"

Granville smiled. "I wanted to be a doctor," he said. "But clearly I've had to settle for less."

"I think you should have been really good at the practice." Ottaline said.

"Thank you kindly," Granville said.

Providence sighed and got up. "I'm very tired," she announced. "I think I'll go on up to bed now." She set her embroidery aside to be taken up again tomorrow. "Goodnight, Ottaline, good night Mr. Heritage."

"Good night, Providence."

Ottaline watched her sister go then crossed her ankles and continued with her work. She already liked the way the blue and purple pansies were turning out. She stopped in her work when she heard the familiar tune of Greensleeves floated weightlessly from the piano. She did not get up to dance. She folded her hands and listened quietly to the tune played just for her. She dabbed the tear from her eye as she smiled, letting her imagination carry her over rivers and glens.

/

Providence opened her eyes when she heard her sister come into the bedroom. "I thought you'd never come up." She groaned.

"I just wanted to work a little more on my embroidery," Ottaline said as she changed into her nightclothes.

"Let me see," Providence said sitting up in the bed.

Ottaline handed her the ring then pulled her nightgown down over her head. "Well?"

"It is very lovely," Providence said. "Can I have it when you've finished."

Ottaline bit her lip. "Well...well...no, Rovy I was already thinking about giving it to someone else."

Providence frowned and fumbled the ring.

"Careful you'll get it dirty," Ottaline said snatching it up before it could hit the floor. She placed it on the nightstand and got under the blankets.

"Ottaline?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think Mr. Heritage is bothered by not having an arm?"

"Don't ask childish questions."

"But I was thinking that if I lost my leg I wouldn't be able to dance," Providence said. "I wondered if he felt the same way not being able to become a doctor."

Ottaline propped herself up. "I'm sure he could," she said. "And you could dance even if you didn't have a leg. You'd just have to try harder."

Providence sat up. "Mr. Idris says that sometimes people missing parts feel like they are still there."

"I reckon it is so, Rovy," Ottaline said. "But you're not missing any limbs so you really shouldn't fret over it. Besides, your dancing has improved, even with that old brace." She laid back down and pulled the blankets up to her chest.

Providence watched her roll over and decided not to bother her further. She reclined on her pillow and stared up at Eden on the ceiling. She was happy she had all of her limbs but she still thought it would be nice to be free from her brace.

/

Providence passed Ottaline in the kitchen swinging her basket. "I'll be back," she said.

"Where are you going?" Ottaline asked kneading dough for a pie she intended to bake.

"Just for a short walk," Providence said.

"All right then," Ottaline replied turning a page back in her recipe book when the wind blew it. "Try to be back in time for lunch."

"I will!" Providence shouted as she went out the door.

It was a wet morning. Gray clouds hung over the distant mountains and the trees were dripping from an earlier shower. She made a note to herself to be back before lunch and was happy it was Saturday and they didn't have any lessons. She took a walk along Dipper Street and filled her basket with the blooming wildflowers that grew along both sides. She climbed the hill there which looked over Steeple Street and Sabbath Cemetery. She gazed past the mausoleums and headstones fashioned with cherubs and crosses. She looked to the field on the far side of the fence where her father was buried.

Though he was always closer to Ottaline she still missed him. A bird called from the meadow behind her and she turned her attention briefly to it. Looking back at the cemetery she watched a man in black with a briefcase enter the gate. His hat concealed his face as he crisscrossed the graves to the mausoleums.

She watched him walk close to one overgrown grave lean against it then start to the mausoleums again. She slipped down the hillside feeling the curiosity usually felt by her sister. She was out of breath by the time she reached the cemetery fence. She leaned on it for support before climbing over with her basket filled with flowers.

She could no longer see the man now that she was on the same ground level as him. It wasn't a crime to be in a cemetery and if spotted here he would only assume she was another mourner. Providence headed straight for the mausoleums where she had last seen the man. The bones of the best were buried in these tombs so she was careful not to damage anything.

When she reached the last place she had seen the man she rounded the tomb and froze. No one was there and no one was in the gated grave yard beyond which was the older part of the cemetery. Grass swept at her legs as she rounded the mausoleum once before coming back to the front. She looked up at the gate covering the stone door where above an angel head with wings perched.

Feeling her heart quicken in her chest she spun around and ran from the cemetery, losing dozens of colorful flowers along the way. How could he have been there and then not been there?

/

The scent of the blueberry pie Ottaline had baked swarmed in the kitchen as Providence came in. She deposited her basket of flowers on the counter then rushed to find her sister. She knew she was a bit late for lunch but she was more concerned with what she had seen in the cemetery.

She headed straight for the dining room and was happy when she heard her sister's voice so she wouldn't have to look all over the house for her. Stopping in the double doors she peered around the corner. Mr. Heritage was seated at the head of the table and Ottaline in the next chair down the side. He finished a piece then dabbed his mouth with a napkin and nodded.

"Ottaline, you have outdone yourself!" He declared. "The pie is delicious."

"Thank you, sir," Ottaline said rising from her chair. "I very much appreciate it." She took up the dishes. "I'm fixing to take these to the kitchen, do you want me to bring you anything?"

"No, thank you," Granville said and the girl dipped in a curtsey before walking out of the dining room.

Ottaline was humming as she rounded the corner and walked straight into her sister. "My goodness, Rovy!" She exclaimed. She shook her head and continued up the hall. "You shouldn't stand around in the dark corners you could give someone a heart attack."

"I was about to have a heart attack watching you swoon over Mr. Heritage praising your pies," Providence said following her sister up the hall and into the kitchen.

"What's wrong?" Ottaline said putting the dishes in the sink and then taking another pie from the window. "Don't you like him?"

Providence took a seat at the table and rubbed her leg. "Sure I like him," she said. "But I don't think I like him near as much as you do." She looked at her sister, studying her face.

Ottaline's lips looked like she has sucked a sour lemon. "Don't be silly," she said. "You know how much I like to cook. I'd be happy if anyone praised me." She put the pie on the table. "Besides, you shouldn't say such things. Mr. Heritage is a good man and that is an awful accusation."

Providence rocked back in the chair. "What's so awful about it?" she asked. When Ottaline didn't answer she furrowed her brows. "It's not him, it's you isn't it? You think it's awful because you're colored. You think yourself a wretch."

"Enough, Rovy," Ottaline said in frustration. "While you were out there parading around town I was here trying to think of a way to secure us, so we'll never have to worry about that orphan train again."

"And how are you going to do that?" Providence demanded. "Beg? Cry? Run to Mr. Heritage and fling yourself at him?"

Ottaline shoved the pie away and faced her sister. "I want to," she said and was very satisfied with the incredulous look that came to her sister's face. "I wish you could understand, Rovy but I don't think you will anytime soon. But there is this little thing we can't avoid called growing up. I've never felt like this before."

Providence reached out and touched her hand. "On my life, Ottaline I will never breath a word of it." She said and Ottaline nodded. "Daddy used to tell us stories of when he was a boy and he once liked a girl that wasn't Mama. Maybe that is all this is and it will just pass." At least she hoped so.

Ottaline smiled and pulled the pie back toward her. "I'm planning on baking a whole lot of these and selling them for money," she said.

"Doesn't Mr. Heritage pay you enough?"

"Of course," Ottaline said. "But it can't hurt to have a little something for emergencies."

Providence shrugged then remembered what she had rushed back to tell. "I saw something spooky in the cemetery today," she said. "It was a man who was and then wasn't"

Ottaline finished shifting powdered sugar onto the pie. "Was and then wasn't?" She frowned. "What sort of nonsense is that? Is it a riddle?"

"No it is what I saw," Providence said. "I was standing on Hawks Hill and looking down at the cemetery when I saw a man cross it. He walked right on the graves and that's what got my attention. I watched him walk around the mausoleums and then...he wasn't there." She turned her palms up.

Ottaline sat down at the table. "Are you sure you didn't just miss him?" she asked. "He could have walked into the older part of the cemetery and stopped behind one of those spire headstones."

"I'm certain!" Providence said. "He would have had to run awfully fast."

Ottaline smiled. "Well maybe, Rovy, you saw a ghost," she laughed.

"You don't believe me," Providence said.

"Of course I do," said Ottaline. "Only...I don't see why there is need to make a story of it."

Providence frowned. "That is very strange coming from Little Miss Detective."

Ottaline grinned. "All right then," she said. "We will mention this suspicion to Mr. Idris. He'll know exactly what to make of it. But in the meantime let's have our lunch."

Providence agreed. Normally she wouldn't be so suspicious of anyone but the sighting of that man had been very strange to her and she couldn't help but think he had been up to no good.