The Stepsister's Tale - Tracy Barrett

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allowed her mind to wander. Maybe she was wrong about never being able to meet a suitable man. If Harry’s money restored the house, Mamma could give a party, the way she had said. Maybe some young man would see her and lead her into the dance, his warm hand holding hers, his arms around her as they joined the others. Maybe he would have so much money he wouldn’t care that she had none, and he would carry her away from here, to a place where she wouldn’t have to worry about feeding and clothing and caring for herself and her mother and sister, a place where she could relax and be happy.

      Don’t be stupid, she scolded herself. That kind of thing doesn’t happen in real life.

      Now that supper was over, they allowed the fire to die down. That big ember in the middle looked like the castle, as Jane imagined it, with its fantastic spires and towers stretching up to the sky. The other coals looked like the forest, where the rarely-seen people of the woods lived. That little lump could be the hut where Hannah Herb-Woman lived with her husband and their son, Hugh. The larger ember to the right could be their own house, glowing and shifting in the red-gold light of the dying fire.

      Suddenly the ember flared into flame, and the little copy of their house crumbled into ash. Jane sat up. She was half asleep, and Maude was yawning. She knew that Mamma was about to tell them to go to bed, but she didn’t want the cozy evening to end. Neither did Maude, apparently, because before Mamma could say anything, she asked, “Did you have a dance at the party that Harry talked about?”

      “Which party was that?” Mamma looked puzzled.

      Maude glanced at Jane, who suddenly realized what her sister was going to say. She shook her head, but Maude ignored her. “The one where he said your engagement to Papa was announced.”

      Mamma was silent for so long that Jane hoped she hadn’t heard, but then she said quietly, “Yes, it was a lovely party.” She smoothed the ragged skirt over her knees and stared into the flames. “We danced.... Papa was a wonderful dancer, and he was so handsome and he always made me laugh.” A smile came and went fleetingly over her face, making her eyes look even sadder. Jane slipped her hand into Mamma’s and squeezed. Mamma squeezed back. “We were very happy, and I thought it would last ever after.”

      She sighed and let go of Jane’s hand, and then said, “I don’t think they’re coming back until tomorrow, after all. Go to sleep, girls.”

      “Aren’t you going to bed, too, Mamma?” Maude’s words were almost swallowed up in a giant yawn.

      “In a little while,” she answered. But when Jane got up a few hours later to visit the privy, she saw Mamma sitting in the big chair, wrapped in a shawl, her head turned toward the door.

      They did not return that night.

       Chapter 5

      Breakfast was silent. As soon as Mamma left the room, Maude said, “Maybe they went back where they came from and we’ll never have to see them again.” Jane didn’t answer.

      Shortly before noon, Betsy’s bark drew them outside. They stood on the steps as the carriage drew into the drive, the horses pulling it more easily than they had that first day, when it had been loaded with heavy crates. A small copy of the carriage was tied behind. It was painted deep yellow and white, and harnessed to it was a little brown pony, her head bobbing up and down as she trotted to keep up. Seated on the driver’s seat was Isabella, proudly clutching the reins, a coach whip in a holder next to her.

      “She pulls your hair out, and he buys her a pony and carriage,” Jane said.

      “It’s all right, Janie,” Maude said quietly, and looked at the ground.

      The two carriages pulled up in front of the house. Ella stood, still holding the reins, not looking at the girls. She wore a coral-colored dress, and on her feet were the most astonishing shoes Jane had ever seen. They were covered in a mosaic of tiny pieces of glass. They sparkled and shone so that Isabella seemed to be wearing diamonds on her dainty feet. Isabella saw the girls’ stare and lifted one foot up, its toe pointed. “Papa had them specially made just for me.” She turned her foot slowly. “There’s not another pair like them in the entire kingdom. Isn’t that right, Papa?”

      “That’s correct, Ella, dear.” His voice was thick with love as he untied her miniature carriage. “As there is no other like you in the entire world.” Well, thank goodness for that, anyway, Jane thought.

      “Help your sister,” Mamma said.

      “She’s not my sister,” Jane said.

      “Jane,” Mamma said, and startled at the sadness of her tone, Jane went to hold the reins. Harry swung his daughter out of the carriage without acknowledging her. She grimaced at Maude, who giggled. Harry and Isabella went inside, leaving Jane and Maude to stable the pony and the big horse.

      When they finally went in the house, Mamma was slicing cheese. She appeared calm, but Jane saw that her hands were trembling. The man, seated at the table with Isabella, rubbed his hands together. “Sorry we couldn’t send word that we were delayed,” he said to Mamma, as though nothing unpleasant had happened.

      “Yes, I was concerned.” She poured his tea. She, too, sounded calm. Why didn’t she say something to Harry about his daughter’s behavior? Why did she pretend that she wasn’t angry? Jane thought she would explode from frustration.

      “We had to wait for Ella’s carriage to dry.” He smiled fondly at the girl as she nibbled on the corner of her bread. “It was white when we bought it, and nothing would satisfy her but to have it painted the color of the pumpkins by the road—”

      “Stop it, Father.” Isabella flushed. “I keep telling you, it’s not the color of a pumpkin. It’s gold like the prince’s carriage.”

      “All right, then, it’s gold.” Harry was still smiling at Isabella. “Have some cheese, darling.” The girl ate her bread and cheese without looking at anyone, ignoring her father’s attempts at conversation. When they had finished, he stood up. “I have business to do,” he announced importantly. “Have to see about getting that roof fixed.”

      Mamma nodded. “Ask the priest first. He’ll know who needs work.”

      Harry sighed heavily. “Margaret,” he said, in a patient tone that made Jane wince, “running the household is your business. This is man’s business.” Mamma’s face turned red. She didn’t answer, and after kissing the top of Isabella’s golden head, the man left. His daughter trailed after him. Jane peeked through the door and saw her, looking even smaller than she really was in the huge empty front hall, standing at the door and staring out at the empty drive.

      Jane returned to the South Parlor and scrubbed the remains of their breakfast off the worn wooden table. “What did he mean, ‘man’s business’?” Maude asked. “This is our house, isn’t it, Mamma?” Mamma didn’t answer. Maude and Jane washed the dishes with the last of the soap. Maude opened her mouth to speak, and Jane knew that she was going to ask whether Mamma had brought any more back with her. She shot her sister a warning glance, and Maude subsided.

      Isabella came back as Jane and Maude were getting ready for their morning chores. She didn’t look at them, but a line on her cheek sparkled where a tear slid down it. Jane sat down to pull on her boots and heard Maude say, “You can’t wear that dress or your new shoes to do chores.” Jane couldn’t resist looking up to see Isabella’s reaction.

      After what seemed like a long time, the girl squeaked, “Me? Do chores?”

      “You can choose,” Maude said. “You can help me find eggs or go to the barn with Jane and milk the cow and the goats.”

      “I’m not—” Isabella began.

      “You have to,” Jane interrupted. “We all have to work, or there’s nothing to eat.” Mamma acted as though she hadn’t heard, but she pressed her lips together tightly. Isabella glanced at Mamma, but even she

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