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cried.
    Lucy and Sofia did their best to comfort her.
    And comfort themselves.

    Sofia turned on her side, pulling the sheet with her.
    “Stop it,” Lucy whispered. “That sheet is for both of us.”
    Sofia flopped over again, facing her sister. “I don’t like sleeping out here. I’d rather have my old hammock than sleep on this hard floor.”
    “We have a mattress. Be thankful for—”
    The bedroom door opened and Mamma came out. “I can’t sleep in there.”
    “Why not?”
    “It’s too soft.”
    Sofia scrambled to her feet. “This is your mattress, Mamma. Try this one.”
    “Sofia!” Lucy was appalled at her sister’s insensitivity.
    “No, no, Lucia. Your sister is right. I would much rather sleep on the mattress I’m used to. You girls take the bed.”
    Lucy grabbed a hunk of Sofia’s nightgown, holding her back. “But I want you to have it, Mamma. I want you to have the bedroom all to yourself.”
    Sofia pulled out of Lucy’s grip. “Don’t argue with her, Lucy. If she wants the mattress in the main room, let her have it.”
    Lucy heard the creak of bedsprings as Sofia made herself comfortable. She tried to read her mother’s face in the moonlight.
    “Mamma,” she said softly, “you don’t have to do this.”
    Mamma put a hand to Lucy’s cheek. “I want to do this. Go on now. Go claim a spot before your sister takes the entire bed for herself.”
    Reluctantly, Lucy did as she was told.

    Why do I do that?
    Sofia turned toward the bedroom window, but she didn’t close her eyes. For to do so would allow her mind to replay her latest act of selfishness. Why hadn’t she let Mamma have the bedroom?
    Honor your mother and father.
    She cringed at the Commandment. What she should do is get out of bed, go into the main room, kneel by Mamma’s side, and put a hand on her shoulder to wake her. “Come into the bedroom, Mamma. I was wrong. I’ll sleep here.”
    But as one minute passed to another, the generous thought faded.
    And sleep allowed her to be selfish one more time.

Chapter Four

    H ow do I look?”
    Sofia glanced at her mother and at Lucy, dressed in their Sunday best. “You look very nice.”
    Mamma shook her head. “I do want to make a good impression.”
    As did Sofia. She knew how much was riding on their jobs at Madame Moreau’s Fashion Emporium. Working as one of a hundred in a dingy sweatshop was one thing, but working in a fancy store was by far another. Sofia knew the basics of sewing, but what if they expected her to know more? She’d be glad to learn, but what if they wanted her to know more now ?
    Lucy stepped toward her and tucked a stray piece of hair behind Sofia’s ear. “Work doubly hard these first few days, all right?”
    Even though Sofia had just suffered the same thoughts, it was annoying to hear Lucy say them aloud. She batted her hand away. “You act like I don’t work hard. I know how to work hard.”
    “I know you know how, but I need you to do it. You don’t want to move again, do you? Before you’ve even had a chance to soak in that bathtub?”
    That last reference hit its mark. “I’ll do fine. Stop worrying.”
    But there was a crease between Lucy’s brows. “I just want Mrs. Flynn to like us.”
    “Why shouldn’t she like us?” Mamma asked.
    Lucy hesitated before answering. “She may not appreciate Mr. Standish hiring three extra sets of hands, sight unseen.”
    “Does she know we’re coming?” Sofia asked.
    “I hope she does, but I can’t be sure.”
    Nothing like walking into a lion’s den.

    A bell on the door announced their arrival. With their first breath in their new employ, Lucy noticed Madame Moreau’s smelled like women, a smell she had overlooked during her first visit with Mr. Standish. Now, knowing she belonged here, her senses were awake and eager to claim the space as part of her life.
    Perfume. That’s what it was. The lingering scent of perfume. How many wealthy ladies had lounged in this reception area, awaiting