Page 93 of The Sisters of Sea View
“Effie, I am coming in.” She rose and opened the door.
Lying on her side in bed, the girl whipped her head around, revealing a tear-stained face. “I told ye not to come in.”
“My dear,” Sarah said gently. “You cannot say you are dying and expect a responsible adult to do nothing.”
Effie moaned again and buried her face in her pillow.
A moment later, the girl lifted her splotched cheek once more. “I’ve ruined your towel. I will pay for it from my spending money.”
“Never mind that.” Glancing around, Sarah saw no sign of a spoilt towel. A suspicion began to form.
“Effie, how old are you? Thirteen, almost fourteen?”
The girl nodded into her pillow.
Sarah hesitated. How to phrase the question in a way that did not embarrass the girl or insult her?
She asked, “Are you having your ... courses?”
“My what?”
Sarah lowered her voice. “Are you ... bleeding ... down there?”
Eyes widening, Effie nodded emphatically. “How’d ye know? A hemorrhage, I think it’s called. I am dyin’.”
Although relieved, Sarah kept her expression even, not wishing to add to the girl’s vexation. “No, you are not.”
Sarah sat in a clothes-strewn chair near the bed and faced her. “I have good news and bad news for you, my dear. The good news is that you are not dying. You have begun to menstruate as females do at about your age. It’s perfectly normal.”
Effie stared. “Georgie too?”
“Georgie too.”
She sat up. “And the bad news?”
“It will happen every month for the next, oh, thirty years.”
Effie’s mouth parted in shock. “Ye must be jokin’. There’s nothing normal about that!”
Sarah barely restrained a chuckle. “Did your mother not warn you? I realize you were rather young when she passed away.”
The girl shook her head. “We rarely spoke. I spent more time with a nurse and then governess.”
Sarah patted her arm and rose. “Well. I will bring you some cloths more suitable for the purpose. However, first let me go and reassure your father you are well. Would you like to explain the situation, or shall I?”
Again, Effie shook her head, this time emphatically. “I could never tell him that! Ye tell him, please. I would die of mortification.”
Sarah feared she might as well.
She didn’t see Mr. Henshall in the corridor, so she hurried to her room for a few things and then to the cleaning closet for a basin before returning to Effie’s room. She left a short while later, with a stained towel soaking in the basin of water. As she carried it carefully down the stairs, she found Mr. Henshall pacing the hall.
“There ye are.” He ran an agitated hand through his hair. “I was just about to go charging off for a doctor.”
“Dr. Clarke will be calling on Mamma soon, but Effie does not need a doctor, she—”
His gaze strayed to the bloody water. “Losh! Is she...?”
“She is well. Do not be uneasy. Give me one moment.” Sarah hurried belowstairs to leave the basin and towel in one of the workrooms to scrub later. Then she washed her hands and returned to calm the concerned man.
