her tears had stopped and Maisie could see more clearly, she realized the nurse wasn’t much older than she was.
“I’m Sally,” the girl said.
“Maisie,” Maisie said, through sniffles.
Sally took two steps backward.
“Maisie?” she repeated.
“Maisie Robbins,” Maisie said.
“Thank the Lord,” Sally said under her breath.
She began to clean Maisie’s cut.
“I’ll fix you up, and then I have something to show you,” she said.
In no time, Sally was leading Maisie down the cold corridor. At the far end, she opened a door into a room lined with beds, just like the one at the workhouse. Except this place was clean and sterile looking, and it smelled like the iodine Maisie’sfather used to put on their skinned knees.
In each bed lay a boy who looked broken in some way. One had an arm in a stiff cast; the next had bandages around his head; another had both legs in the air, bandaged and attached to a big metal rod. Their faces were ashen, and here and there Maisie saw dried blood on a cheek or a chin or a forehead.
At last, Sally stopped.
She leaned over the figure that lay there. The boy had two black eyes and one side of his face was swollen and bruised. Beneath the bandages that were wrapped around his head, Maisie could make out jagged stitches and some dried blood.
Sally whispered, “I thought you was making her up, but she’s here in the flesh. Your Maisie.”
The boy’s eyes fluttered open, and as soon as they did Maisie knew who this boy was.
“Felix,” she said, sinking to the bed beside him with such relief that she couldn’t say anything more.
“He’s a lucky one,” Sally was saying. “Two other climbing boys dropped today and they didn’t make it. This one’s been saying ‘Maisie, Maisie, Maisie’ every time he comes to. We thought he wasdelirious, what with the cracked skull and banged-up face. But here you are—Maisie.”
Felix met Maisie’s eyes and smiled.
“I knew you’d find me,” he said. “I just knew it.”
A loud racket erupted out in the hallway, and Sally ran to see what was happening.
“You were inside a chimney?” Maisie said to Felix.
He nodded. “Worse than when you jammed me in the dumbwaiter.”
For the first time since she’d entered the room, Maisie became aware of all the groans and moans that filled it.
“Do you think you can leave here?” Maisie asked him.
His eyes filled with fear.
“I don’t want to go back to that workhouse,” he said.
“No, no,” Maisie said soothingly. “I have a feeling that we’ll be back home soon.”
“What about Rayne and Hadley?”
“They’re waiting for us,” Maisie said.
Felix lifted himself up on his elbows. “What are you wearing?” he asked Maisie.
“I was at a dinner party,” Maisie said, trying not to sound too braggy. After all, her poor brother had fallen down a chimney, cracked his head, broken his glasses, and lay here for hours and hours alone. She decided not to mention Charles Dickens. Yet.
Sally burst back into the room.
“Another boy saying ‘Maisie, Maisie, Maisie’!” Sally said. “You’ve got boys all over London asking for you, don’t you?”
Maisie jumped to her feet.
“Aleck!” she said. “I forgot all about him!”
“Stay put,” Sally told her. “He’s getting fixed up. Those hoodlums gave him some nasty scrapes and bruises.”
“Aleck got beat up?” Felix said.
Sally shook her head sadly. “It’s the East End,” she said, “with all of our toughs.”
When Aleck finally showed up, he looked even more shaken than Felix.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said.
“This boy needs rest,” Sally told them, pointing to Felix. She handed him his broken glasses. “And some new spectacles.”
Aleck and Maisie let Felix put an arm around each of their shoulders and they half-carried, half-walked him back outside to the carriage.
“Where were you?” Aleck asked the driver angrily. “We got attacked by a gang of boys.”
“It was the
“I’m Sally,” the girl said.
“Maisie,” Maisie said, through sniffles.
Sally took two steps backward.
“Maisie?” she repeated.
“Maisie Robbins,” Maisie said.
“Thank the Lord,” Sally said under her breath.
She began to clean Maisie’s cut.
“I’ll fix you up, and then I have something to show you,” she said.
In no time, Sally was leading Maisie down the cold corridor. At the far end, she opened a door into a room lined with beds, just like the one at the workhouse. Except this place was clean and sterile looking, and it smelled like the iodine Maisie’sfather used to put on their skinned knees.
In each bed lay a boy who looked broken in some way. One had an arm in a stiff cast; the next had bandages around his head; another had both legs in the air, bandaged and attached to a big metal rod. Their faces were ashen, and here and there Maisie saw dried blood on a cheek or a chin or a forehead.
At last, Sally stopped.
She leaned over the figure that lay there. The boy had two black eyes and one side of his face was swollen and bruised. Beneath the bandages that were wrapped around his head, Maisie could make out jagged stitches and some dried blood.
Sally whispered, “I thought you was making her up, but she’s here in the flesh. Your Maisie.”
The boy’s eyes fluttered open, and as soon as they did Maisie knew who this boy was.
“Felix,” she said, sinking to the bed beside him with such relief that she couldn’t say anything more.
“He’s a lucky one,” Sally was saying. “Two other climbing boys dropped today and they didn’t make it. This one’s been saying ‘Maisie, Maisie, Maisie’ every time he comes to. We thought he wasdelirious, what with the cracked skull and banged-up face. But here you are—Maisie.”
Felix met Maisie’s eyes and smiled.
“I knew you’d find me,” he said. “I just knew it.”
A loud racket erupted out in the hallway, and Sally ran to see what was happening.
“You were inside a chimney?” Maisie said to Felix.
He nodded. “Worse than when you jammed me in the dumbwaiter.”
For the first time since she’d entered the room, Maisie became aware of all the groans and moans that filled it.
“Do you think you can leave here?” Maisie asked him.
His eyes filled with fear.
“I don’t want to go back to that workhouse,” he said.
“No, no,” Maisie said soothingly. “I have a feeling that we’ll be back home soon.”
“What about Rayne and Hadley?”
“They’re waiting for us,” Maisie said.
Felix lifted himself up on his elbows. “What are you wearing?” he asked Maisie.
“I was at a dinner party,” Maisie said, trying not to sound too braggy. After all, her poor brother had fallen down a chimney, cracked his head, broken his glasses, and lay here for hours and hours alone. She decided not to mention Charles Dickens. Yet.
Sally burst back into the room.
“Another boy saying ‘Maisie, Maisie, Maisie’!” Sally said. “You’ve got boys all over London asking for you, don’t you?”
Maisie jumped to her feet.
“Aleck!” she said. “I forgot all about him!”
“Stay put,” Sally told her. “He’s getting fixed up. Those hoodlums gave him some nasty scrapes and bruises.”
“Aleck got beat up?” Felix said.
Sally shook her head sadly. “It’s the East End,” she said, “with all of our toughs.”
When Aleck finally showed up, he looked even more shaken than Felix.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said.
“This boy needs rest,” Sally told them, pointing to Felix. She handed him his broken glasses. “And some new spectacles.”
Aleck and Maisie let Felix put an arm around each of their shoulders and they half-carried, half-walked him back outside to the carriage.
“Where were you?” Aleck asked the driver angrily. “We got attacked by a gang of boys.”
“It was the
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