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After a few moments, Mrs. Wells returned, closing the parlor doors carefully behind her and taking a seat on the sofa beside Sarah. She moved with an unconscious grace that drew the eye while at the same time giving the overwhelming impression of modesty and humility. She was dressed in black bombazine unrelieved by any adornment. Even her pierced earlobes were bare. Sarah judged that she was in mourning.
“Now, what can I tell you about Mrs. De
Sarah looked to Richard, but he sent her a silent plea to begin.
“As I said, Mr. De
Once again Mrs. Wells studied Sarah for a moment before replying. Sarah had the impression that Mrs. Wells was once again weighing her words to see if they were truthful. “I would be happy to,” Mrs. Wells said, her smooth face settling into a small, sweet smile, making Sarah think perhaps she had only imagined Mrs. Wells questioned her sincerity. “My dear husband started the mission more than seven years ago. It was his dream and his calling. He’d worked in this part of the city for a long time, preaching on street comers and ministering to the poor wherever he could find a place, before he was finally able to purchase this house.” She turned her gaze to De
“How… how fortunate,” De
“Fortune had nothing to do with it, Mr. De
“Of course,” De
“Is your husband busy?” Sarah asked to save him from more embarrassment. “I would love to meet him.”
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, not in this world, at least,” she said with another of her gentle smiles. “My husband passed away less than a year after we opened the mission.”
“I’m sorry,” Sarah said, responding as good ma
“No need to be sorry,” Mrs. Wells informed her. “Although I miss him dreadfully, he’s in a much better place now. If the Lord took him, He must have thought his work here was done, and that we would be able to continue without him.”
“So you took over the work here after he passed away?” Sarah asked, amazed that so unassuming a woman would have been able to make a success of a ministry in one of the worst neighborhoods in the city.
“I did what I could,” Mrs. Wells clarified. “My talents are very different from his, of course. He was a gifted and dynamic preacher. I am merely God’s handmaiden, and I can only do what a woman can do.”
“And what is that?” Sarah asked, genuinely curious now.
“Here we offer young girls a safe place to stay, if they need one. Many of them had been living on the streets or worse. Others lived with their families, but they still need to learn the skills that will make them productive wives and mothers, things like cooking and sewing and simple hygiene. You would be amazed at the squalor in which they live.”
Sarah thought of the tenements where a single outside spigot or pump served a dozen families and no one had a bathtub. She thought of streets clogged with garbage and horse droppings because the city workers didn’t want to go into that neighborhood to pick it up. If cleanliness was next to Godliness, for some it was nothing short of a miracle. “I’m a midwife, Mrs. Wells,” Sarah explained. “I know it only too well. For most of them, it’s not a choice, however. It’s a matter of not having any means of keeping clean.”
“You’re right, of course,” Mrs. Wells said. “But things will never change unless people know that they should. We simply try to educate the young women who come to us about what kind of change is necessary – and how to accomplish it.”
Certainly a worthy goal, Sarah thought, admiring the woman even more. “I know many of the settlement houses teach young women the skills you mentioned, in addition to helping them learn to read and write,” she offered. The ones she’d seen in New York had been modeled after Hull House in Chicago, founded by Jane Addams.
“The settlement houses do emphasize education. You would expect nothing less, since they are run by college women.” Mrs. Wells said the phrase “college women” with just a hint of disdain.
“Don’t you approve of the settlement houses?” Sarah asked in amazement.
“I’m sure they mean well, Mrs. Brandt,” Mrs. Wells allowed, “but they emphasize the physical and ignore the spiritual. Saving someone’s body is useless unless you save the soul as well.”
Sarah certainly believed many of the souls in the Lower East Side – and in all parts of the city, for that matter – needed saving, but she knew that wasn’t nearly enough. “Don’t you teach your girls to read?”
“Of course we do.” Mrs. Wells seemed surprised at the question. “They read the Bible and other uplifting literature. While we prepare them for heaven, we also teach them how to have a better life here on earth.”
“My wife never…” De
“Yes, Mr. De
“I never knew my wife to be interested in… in religious things. I mean, she attended church regularly, of course. One does, but she never seemed overly concerned about…” He gestured vaguely, unable to find the correct word.
“I gathered as much,” Mrs. Wells said. “When she first came here, she was a seeker. That’s what I call them. People who have an emptiness inside and are looking for a way to fill it. As I remember, Mrs. De
Sarah could have groaned. This wasn’t what Richard needed to hear. He already felt guilty enough over his wife’s death. “I believe Mrs. De
“She was also unhappy because she didn’t have a child,” Richard offered.
“I don’t have a child either, Mr. De
“She did?” he asked, leaning forward in his eagerness to hear something that would give him peace.
“She found her true calling, Mr. De
Obviously, these answers more than satisfied Mrs. Wells, but Sarah wasn’t sure how much comfort they would give Richard. “Perhaps you could show us around the mission so Mr. De
Once again Mrs. Wells studied Sarah in that odd way of hers. “Forgive me, Mrs. Brandt, but were you a friend of Mrs. De
So that was it! Mrs. Wells was simply trying to figure out what Sarah’s role was in all of this. “No, I regret to say I never knew Mrs. De
“Mrs. Brandt is a friend of mine,” Richard quickly explained. “I asked her to accompany me today because of her familiarity with the neighborhood and the people in it.”