The Dilemma of Charlotte Farrow by Susan Martins Miller

Louisa responded with interest—well, Emmaline was not going to think about that.
    â€œFlora,” Emmaline said, “you and Violet must face facts. If you invited me for an extended visit in hopes of finding me a husband in Chicago because I have exhausted the possibilities of New England, I think perhaps it is your time that could be put to better use.”
    Flora pushed aside the entire needlework basket and stood up. “We only want you to enjoy your time here. You haven’t been to Chicago in over ten years. The city has so much more to offer now.”
    â€œYes, such as a population of over one million people. Only a small percentage are eligible bachelors who might be suitable matches, but somehow Violet seems to march more than her share of them into my view.”
    â€œEmmaline, you speak harshly of our intent.”
    â€œI’m sorry, Flora. I realize you mean well.” Emmaline returned the poetry book to the table. “Violet never married, and she seems quite happy with her life. Why should I not have the same hope? The two of you have conspired to have me socially engaged every night for a week. Perhaps I’d simply like a quiet afternoon.”
    â€œOf course, dear, but the child!”
    â€œHumor me, Flora.” Emmaline met Flora’s green eyes and held them. “Call for the child and let me take him for a stroll. Then we’ll see about tea at Violet’s.”
    Flora sighed, but she reached for the annuciator button.

    â€œWhat do you suppose that was all about?” Archie sank into a kitchen chair when the flurry of getting the baby ready for his daily airing had cleared. Archie had pushed the buggy around to the front of the house, while Penardsternly admonished Sarah about her comportment while accompanying Miss Brewster for the outing.
    â€œI don’t know what to make of it,” Charlotte answered. “Miss Brewster seems pleasant enough, and she could be far more demanding than she has been. But why is she interested in the baby?”
    Archie watched the wave of anxiety splash across Charlotte’s face even as she tried to turn from his view. Neither did the catch in her voice escape him.
    Mr. Penard pushed open the door from the butler’s pantry and strode across the black and white tiles of the kitchen. “They’re off. That girl had better behave herself.”
    Archie said nothing. Sarah Cummings had not mastered her tongue around the kitchen in her few weeks in the Banning house. It might be only a matter of time before she stepped out of place in front of a family member—or visiting relative.
    â€œArchie, Mr. Leo has asked for you,” Penard said. “Bring the open wicker carriage around immediately. He has decided not to return to his office this afternoon but to look after some personal business. You are to be at his disposal until dinner if necessary.”
    â€œYes, sir.” Archie stood up, straightened his jacket, and paced across the kitchen to the servants’ hall.
    A few minutes later, Archie stood beside the wicker carriage in front of the Banning house, watching Leo Banning step up and settle on the seat.
    â€œSt. Andrew’s, please,” Leo said. “I have some questions for Mr. Emmett.”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    Archie knew the route well. Leo’s sister, now honeymooning, had used it often. Deftly he swung himself up onto hisseat, picked up the reins, and clicked his tongue. At the corner of Eighteenth Street, Archie steered the horse to the west, allowing it to trot to Michigan Avenue before turning south. Archie had a rough idea of how Lucy Banning Edwards spent her time at the orphanage, but he was uncertain what Leo’s business was there.
    Outside the orphanage a few minutes later, Archie once again stood at attention beside the carriage.
    â€œFind a place to tie up the horse,” Leo instructed as he exited the wicker transport. “No sense leaving you