The Girl Who Came to Bedlaam

XIV. Flowers and A Letter!

Ellen Trupp shook her boyish bangs from her eyes with the likeness of a pony. There was a wistful glint in her gaze.

"I'd have given both my eyes to have gone with the girls last night. I had a trying time here."

Harriet nudged the girl with her foot. "Sit up, Ellen, for dear sake! Just because your hair is cut off like that of a boy doesn't mean you ought to act like one."

"It is the tryingest thing of my life!" the little girl responded, spreading her skirt as if it were some rebellious creature in need of discipline. "I know I oughtn't complain but this wretched thing won't grow evenly!" And she followed the statement with a wild tug of her jagged ends.

Marge lounged lazily upon the sofa with a book in her pale hands.

"Quit your pathetic whining already. Hopefully the misfortune of your hair has taught you something."

"To always do as I'm told!"

"Of course not, you imbecile! Always doing as one's told leads to slavery of the worst kind! Orders are given by people who wish to rule others, people who think themselves more important than they are. I'm not sure what I hate more, the ones that pride themselves on being so, or the fools who believe them to be!"

Rose Yorwind said in her high pitched voice as she examined the keys of the ancient piano no one learned to play,

"Enough, Marge, you'll fill her head with more nonsense than she can hold if you're not careful."

Marge shut her book with a snap.

"Little girls ought to be informed of the unfairness of the world just as well as they take to their studies, Rose. So don't lecture me."

"But I wasn't!" cried a sensitive Rose. She comforted herself with a few sad and untuned keys.

Ammie scrutinized her red braids in the glass. "What do you say to all that, Lia ? You're awfully quiet today."

I looked up from the paper doll I'd been dressing for Janie.

"I have nothing to add to Marge's handsome little lecture. I only wish to tell Ellen that to*some extent* children ought to do as they are told. Particularly when it involves the scissors."

I received a loud groan from the girl.

Glancing out the window I spied Quistelle guiding old Birch by the bridle, while Maple, being the tamer of the two, diligently followed. Eventually she treated them with a few carrots she kept in her pockets.

"She's an odd one you know girls," Ammie said, having come to stand beside my chair.  "She does the most horrid things and seems so..."

"Unashamed of them," Marge offered. "It would seem Lia approves of her ways."

"I have never said that."

"You won't deny it, will you?"

I felt everyone's eyes hard upon me, piercing my delicate flesh.

"She's just a little rough around the edges, that's all."

A holler of glee caused heads to rivet towards the window to witness our girl ripping across the grounds hanging on to Birch, her hair wild and disheveled, skirt tails screaming madly, and an expression of pure ecstasy.

"Just 'a little rough', Malstoyke?"

Violet entered the room with steaming jelly buns and oat cakes piled high on her ivory arms.

"What's all that noise?"

"Halstung's gone mad."

"Don't call her that. I hate the sound of it." I turned to Janie who was admiring her new doll clothes. "Be a good girl and tell Quistelle to come inside for tea."