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train ride. She snuggled down in her blanket, seemingly unaware of the silence that followed her revelation.
    â€œChild, who took care of you after you lost your parents?” Agatha asked.
    Mairin shrugged one thin shoulder. “Oh, I went here and there,” she said. “An aunt for a while, but then I had to leave. Other folks after that.” Her eyes wandered over to Agatha’s lamp table, where the candied angelica root lay wrapped in its cloth.
    At that moment, a knock on the partly opened door announced the arrival of a kitchen sister with lunch. Rose set the tray on a small, pine desk. She cut portions from a vegetable potpie and delivered them to Agatha and Mairin before settling at the desk with the last portion for herself. The steam warmed her face, and she paused to breathe in the rich scent of herbs and pie crust before saying a silent grace.
    As she munched her first bite, she glanced at Mairin to find her leaning close to her plate and shoveling the last bits of potpie into her already full mouth. Agatha watched, too, her own food untouched. She turned to Rose, sadness and understanding in her cloudy blue eyes.
    â€œYou know,” Agatha said, “I find I’m not terribly hungry just now. Would you care to help me eat my portion, Mairin?”
    The girl slid off her chair, holding her blanket over her shoulders, and sat on her knees in front of Agatha’s rocker.
    â€œWhy don’t you bring over your spoon?” Agatha said. “I’ll keep the plate on my lap so it won’t spill, and we’ll share the food. How does that sound? I’ll take a bite, and then I’ll hold the plate so you can have a bite.” Agatha was weakened, especially on her right side, from a series of strokes. She had learned to eat with her left hand because her right was unreliable. Now, however, she picked up her spoon with her shaky right hand. Slowly she scooped up a small bite of pie and tried to lift it to her mouth. Halfway up, her hand began to tremble and dropped back to the plate.
    Mairin’s eyes flashed with feral impatience. Her shoulders tightened and her hands clenched and unclenched as if she could barely keep from grabbing the plate from Agatha and pouring the food in her own mouth. Rose held her breath.
    Agatha smiled gently. “I’m so sorry, child. You see, I’ve been very sick, and sometimes it is hard for me to manage to eat. I get very hungry, as you can imagine. I wonder if you would help me?”
    With amazement, Rose watched Mairin’s face as Agatha spoke. Greed turned to confusion, and in an instant, when Agatha said how hungry she got, Mairin’s expression dissolvedinto pain. She rose up on her knees and took the spoon from Agatha’s shaking hand. Aiming carefully, she placed the spoon at Agatha’s lips and waited for her to chew and swallow. Agatha nodded to encourage the child to take her own portion, but instead of picking up her own spoon, Mairin scooped up another bite and brought it to Agatha’s mouth. Agatha was so surprised that she took several moments to accept the food.
    â€œYou are very kind, my dear,” Agatha said, when she had swallowed. “But do be sure to take some for yourself. Go ahead, have a bite.”
    Mairin took her own spoon and ate a small bite, chewing carefully. Rose couldn’t help grinning. With persistent effort, perhaps they could do more than pry information out of Mairin. Perhaps they could nurture her soul.

SIX
    A FTER THE NOON MEAL, R OSE DROPPED M AIRIN OFF WITH Charlotte to spend the afternoon at school, then made her way to the Sisters’ Shop, just next door. Isabel was expecting her. From the sparkle in her hazel eyes when Rose had asked to chat about Celia’s visit to the Sisters’ Shop, Isabel had a lot to tell.
    Bright sunlight warmed the fall afternoon. Rose longed for some outdoor work and would have assigned herself to help mulch the tender perennial herbs