Page 183 of The Sisters of Sea View
“I did not want to raise your hopes, should we never find them.”
Sarah added, “Your father and I have been searching for them,as a matter of fact. We found the case in the nursery, but it was empty.”
“I had taken them to my room,” Georgie said. “I found them when I moved to the attic and later put them with our costumes.”
Georgie turned back to Effie, eyes shining. “I told you it would look better on you.” She reached behind herself, undid the clasp, and with ceremonial air, placed the gold chain around her friend’s neck as though a laurel wreath.
“From your mamma,” she whispered.
Effie gently, reverently touched the necklace, then looked up again, a small smile of wonder on her lips, even as her eyes filled with tears.
35
No piece of Honiton lace is the work of one lace maker; many hands contributed.
—Carol McFadzean,Sidmouth’s Lace
Viola returned to the poor house later that day to visit Mrs. Denby now that she was once again settled into her room.
When Viola arrived, she handed her two parcels wrapped in paper.
“What are these? More biscuits?”
Viola shook her head, excitement rippling through her.
Mrs. Denby peeled back the paper of the first. “Ah, the spectacles! You remembered.” She slid on the earpieces and looked at Viola through the oval lenses. “You are even prettier than I thought. Thank you, my dear.”
“Now open this one,” Viola urged.
Mrs. Denby opened the larger second parcel. She bent to look closer, then pressed a hand to her bosom. “The lace shawl...” Her eyes, large behind the lenses, rose to meet Viola’s. “It is really for me?”
“Of course it is.”
“But ... how? It was terribly expensive.”
“Mrs. Nicholls gave me a very good price when she learned it was for ‘dear Jane.’ I had earned extra money taking on another client. And the major insisted on contributing to the gift, as he knows how fond of you I am.”
“So kind. All of you.”
The older woman carefully fingered the lace sprigs. “I made these birds. My sister, this edging of leaves. My mother, the flowers. And my aunt did the sewing, joining the pieces together. It’s as I told you, no finished piece is the work of one person.” She stared at the shawl, eyes misty with memory. “A solitary soul can do little. But together... what lasting beauty we create.”
Mrs. Denby looked up with a watery smile. “Thank you, my dear. I shall treasure it always. And when I am gone, I want you to have it, all right? No arguing. That’s as it should be.”
Viola’s eyes filled. She blinked back tears and squeezed the woman’s hand. “Very well, but only if you promise to live for a good long time.”
A short while later, as Viola was leaving the poor house, she encountered Mr. Butcher on his way in.
“Ah, Miss Summers. A pleasure to see you again.”
“Thank you, sir. It was good of you to help with the cleanup.”
“And you.” He twisted his mouth in thought and rocked on his heels. “By the way,” he said, “I know I declined your sister’s invitation to visit Sea View, and that my unplanned visit the night of the flood did not exemplify a usual stay there.”
Was that a criticism or a compliment? Viola felt mildly defensive on her family’s behalf. “No. It was quite a hodgepodge of people. And the food not our usual fare.”
“It was excellent, and the company diverse, diverting, and welcoming. Mrs. Butcher and I enjoyed ourselves immensely.”
Relief. “I am glad to hear it. And it was kind of you to make sure the residents were safe.”
