Still the woman stared at her.
“I might enjoy it, actually.”
Mrs. Moorling shook her head, an odd bleakness in her eyes. “I would not plan on it.”
“Then I may not—?”
“You may. I only meant that you should not plan to enjoy it. You really are naïve, aren’t you?”
“I suppose so. Still I see no harm... .”
“Go on with you, then. Use the entrance through the scullery.
Be sure the door latches behind you.”
“But what shall I do once I get there?”
“Just ask for Mrs. Krebs. She oversees the foundlings and is always in need of another pair of arms.”
Charlotte thanked the matron, then walked through the dining room and down the scullery passage. The large white door with an old-fashioned swing bolt stood at attention, its X-shaped cross boards reminding Charlotte of a guard with his arms crossed, barring the way. She swallowed back the silly notion and reached for the bolt, only to have the door swing open in her face. Charlotte stepped back quickly as Sally and another girl came through the door, Sally balancing a tray of used plates and teacups in her hands.
“Oh, Miss Charlotte! Sorry, love, nearly ran you down.”
“Hello, Sally.” Charlotte looked up at her. She had never known such a tall woman.
“You’re not thinking of goin’ in, are you?”
“Yes. I was.”
“Well, I suppose Mrs. Krebs might need some mending done, or some cleaning.”
“Could I not help with the children? I have never been around babies and I should like to learn.”
Sally stood silently a moment, studying Charlotte seriously. Then swiftly, she swiveled and placed the tea tray in the other girl’s hands. “Take this into the kitchen for me, Martha. There’s a love.”
The girl disappeared and Sally was still staring down at Charlotte, her frequent smile noticeably absent.
“If you’re set on it, I had better go in with you.”
“All right ... thank you,” Charlotte murmured, but she was confused.
Sally took Charlotte by the arm and led her through the doorway, latching the door firmly behind her. Then she escorted Charlotte down a whitewashed passage, through a small galley, and into an entry hall.
“This is where the babies first come in. Admitted, they calls it.” She pointed to an odd revolving shelf built into the outer wall. “See that turn there?”
“Yes. It looks like one we had at home between the galley and kitchen. The servants used it to pass through dirty dishes.”
“’Tisn’t dirty dishes passing through there. ’Tis babies what no one wants. This way the poor mother don’t even need to show her face. She puts her baby on the shelf and rings the bell. Then Mrs. Krebs turns the shelf and the baby comes inside.”
“Poor things.”
“Yes. ’Tis a desperate girl who abandons her baby.”
Charlotte had meant the babies left behind were the “poor things,” but she didn’t argue.
“Sometimes mothers what’s starving leave their babies in the turn, then come to the front door soon after, asking for work as a wet nurse, hoping to feed their own babe and get food and some small pay in the bargain.”
“But why would they do that?”
