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offered her a small bottle of cologne and Donna splashed it on liberally. I’ll smell like the rest of the household , she thought.
    Then she started dressing. She thought Annabelle and Rose would keep a close watch on her, and they did. While they tidied up and made the bed she caught their sideways glances. She sat on the edge of a couch and pulled on her brassiere then the under drawers and the under blouse the maids had provided. She pulled on some black stockings which had a nice soft feel to them. She picked up the blouse and put that on, buttoning the abalone buttons. The skirt was next; she buttoned it backwards, and then twisted it around so the buttons were in the back. Lastly, she pulled on some leather boots with no closures or grommets, just a straight pull on with a tab on the back. They were a bit loose, but she wasn't complaining.
    Looking around, she found a hairbrush on the bureau and brushed her hair. The natural boar bristles felt good against her scalp. She thought back to when she shampooed her hair last. She wondered when she could get a good shampooing again, and maybe she had better not ask just yet. They might think she was strange or asking to waste water. Every time you needed water, somebody would have to draw it from the well. Peering into the mirror, she almost did a double take. She had this mirror in her apartment in Chicago. Yes, this exact mirror! It was a family heirloom. She touched the frame and the glass lightly with her fingertips. The touch of the cool metal spooked her a bit. She looked around the room once again, but more deliberately. The quilt on her bed last night—yes! It was hanging on the wall of her apartment. It had been carefully preserved against any further damage by a preservation process that they used for wedding gowns. Friends and visitors often complimented her on it, its fine handiwork and beautiful mixture of colors. Now here she was, actually using it to keep warm at night and not just a wall decoration. All these beautiful items made her miss her other life. She was glad to be able to touch them and use them, but the feelings that they awoke in her were bittersweet.

    * * * *

    When Donna was busy brushing the snarls out of her hair, the two maids went back down the stairs. When they were a little distance away and beyond earshot, they begin chirping again.
    “Did you hear what she said about the chamber pot?” Rose said. She leaned against the wall, careful to keep a watchful eye down the hall.
    “I know! What else on earth would you do in the middle of the night? We all use chamber pots.” Annabelle was flabbergasted. “It’s either that or the outhouse and we forgot to tell her where that was. But she wouldn’t have found it in the dark.” She fiddled with a stray curl that had fallen out of her cap. “It was almost as if she was proud to have found the silly thing. I don’t understand her at all. We’ve never had a guest like her, that’s for sure!”
    “Don’t you dare tell anyone what she said, they won’t believe us.” Rose said. “What if she’s not really who she says she is? Maybe she’s from a foreign country.”
    “No, no of course not. The missus would have our ears,” Annabelle replied. “We’ll just keep this to ourselves for the time being. Say, you keep an eye on her and I will also. Then in case one of us misses something maybe the other will catch it!”

    * * * *

    Royce slept fitfully when he returned from the main house. He knew the path backwards and forwards, so the darkness meant nothing to him. Yet, as he walked, his mind tumbled and turned with the evening’s events.
    The woman’s appearance unnerved him. He’d seen a lot in his twenty-eight years, but this was the strangest he could ever remember. She was pretty and seemed different than other women he had known in his daily dealings. She had a healthy glow to her, so she had probably spent a lot of time outdoors in the sun and fresh air. He knew of many