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the vicar.”
    Two dozen mumbled “ ’ow do ye do’s” followed.
    Swiftly, Daphne assessed the boys and girls who filled the benches surrounding the classroom’s long wooden desk. Ranging in age from approximately five to thirteen years old, they were all terribly thin, all dressed in worn clothing, and all staring at Daphne as if the portrait of Queen Victoria that graced the schoolhouse wall had just come to life before their very eyes.
    The familiar ache tugged at Daphne’s heart.
    “Would you like me to introduce you, Snowdrop?” Chambers asked, acutely aware of Daphne’s distress.
    “No. Thank you, Vicar.” Daphne shot him a quick, grateful look, telling him without words that she was determined to obliterate this particular wall on her own. “I’ve awaited this day for a long, long time.”
    “Very well.” The vicar nodded sagely, praying she would accomplish all she sought, praying that his presence could give her the strength she needed to bridge these long-established class lines.
    Daphne turned and walked toward the children. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to meet all of you,” she admitted with a shy smile. “The vicar has spoken of you so often I feel we’re already friends.” Deliberately ignoring the ponderous silence, Daphne searched the sea of faces.
    Her eyes fell on a lad of about ten. “You must be Timmy,” she guessed, taking in his freckles and unruly black curls, swiftly matching them with the description Chambers had provided. “I hear you have a lizard.”
    Meeting the boy’s astonished stare, Daphne held her breath, counting each endless second until he replied.
    At last, the freckled face thawed, “ ’is name’s ’enry,” Timmy supplied. “I used to bring ’im to school, but Miss Redmund made me stop.”
    “That’s probably because she was afraid Henry would distract you.”
    “No, it’s ’cause she was afraid ’e would bite ’er.”
    “I see.” Daphne stifled a smile, feeling Miss Redmund’s glare bore through her back. “Tell me, Timmy, do lizards like mince pie?”
    He rolled his eyes in exasperation. “No. They like bugs.”
    “Oh.” Daphne’s brows drew together as she pondered that dilemma. “Well, Timmy, I didn’t bring any bugs with me, so it’s just as well Henry’s at home. You’ll have to take care of his feeding yourself. However, I did bring some pie. And, since Henry’s not here and wouldn’t enjoy my dessert if he were, would you like some?”
    That got the reaction she sought.
    A brilliant smile illuminated Timmy’s face. “I sure would!”
    “Ye ’ave mince pie in there?” another boy piped up.
    “I sure do.” Daphne grinned. “What’s your name?”
    “William.”
    “William…William.” Daphne tapped her chin thoughtfully. “As I recall, the vicar told me you carried the most firewood of anyone in the class last winter.”
    The frail boy of eight sat up proudly. “I can carry a pile taller ’en me from th’ woods to th’ school without restin’ once.”
    “That’s extraordinary! And all the more reason you need to keep up your strength.” Daphne went to the basket and lifted its cover. “I have enough pie for everyone. There are also healthy portions of mutton, which I want each of you to take home to your families.”
    As she began to unpack the food Daphne felt a small hand tug at her skirts. Looking down, she saw a tiny, blue-eyed girl gazing up at her.
    “I’m Prudence,” the tot offered. “What else did ye bring?”
    Scrutinizing the child’s frayed dress, Daphne reached into the basket and extracted a gingham frock. “I’ve brought this lovely new dress. Would you like it, Prudence? I think it would fit you perfectly.”
    The blue eyes grew huge. “Ye’re givin’ it t’ me?” she whispered.
    “It’s yours.”
    Reverently, Prudence touched the edge of the hem. “It’s so pretty.”
    “So are you.” On impulse, Daphne knelt, hugging the child to her. “And pretty girls need