But then a figure appeared at a window as flames encircled the opening.
“There she is! There’s my wife.”
“Catch my baby,” the woman screamed, and without waiting for anyone to get into position, she threw the child from the window. Within seconds, flames had obscured the figure at the window.
The crowd looked on in horror at the drama unfolding. Yet there was a certain excitement that gripped them, akin to watching a fight to the death between gladiators in a Roman arena.
But in Chicago that day, the fight was not between equals matched in size and strength, with an emperor deciding on the outcome at the end. Poverty was the all-powerful adversary, with no regard for human lives.
The fire had been quick, complete. Now only smouldering ashes covered the ground, a sad reminder of immigrant dreams of a better life in a new land.
“We’d better be getting on home, Miss Morrow.”
“Yes. We’d never find the Andrettis now.”
Carefully, the two began to fight their way through the crowd. But suddenly Morrow stopped.
A small, dirty child sat on a door stoop. Her brown curls were tangled; her tears had stained her dirty little face. And her dress was ragged, with one of the sleeves torn from its stitching.
“Andrea?”
She looked up as her name was called.
“Where is your mother, Andrea?”
She pointed toward the burned-out tenement building.
“You mean she was caught in the fire?”
The child nodded.
“But Tony and Marcello. Where are they?”
Again the child pointed in the same direction.
“Oh, Andrea, I’m so sorry.”
Morrow stood, looking at the child as if debating what to do. Allie waited, already knowing what her mistress’s decision would be.
“Come with me, Andrea. You can go home with us. And then we’ll decide tomorrow what to do with you.”
She held out her hand and smiled. And the child, who had worked all summer selling flowers until the exposition had closed, brightened.
Her thin, fragile fingers reached out and took Morrow’s hand. She clung tightly to her, with all the strength she could muster.
And Morrow, feeling that strength, knew that Andrea was a true survivor.
In the last days of October, the business in Washington finally ended. After a display of every senator’s filibustering oratory, the vote was taken. The silver purchase bill was outlawed, bringing victory to another survivor, President Grover Cleveland.
But the victory left a trail of bitterness that would plague him for his last two years in office. His enemies began to regroup, biding their time for eventual success in other matters.
Though many of the lawmakers went home to await the winter session, Rad and Alliison remained in Washington for the private family wedding of their son to Ginna Forsyte.
The wedding gown that had been finished for months now hung in the guest room of the Drakes’ Georgian redbrick house situated on a knoll overlooking the Mall.
But one afternoon, two days before her wedding, Ginna paid a visit to her half sister, Cassie.
“I want you and Stanley to come to my wedding, Cassie,” she said. “I don’t see why we can’t all be friends again.”
“We’d feel out of place.”
“Out of place, with Papa there? And Nathan? Even though Mummy is gone, we’re all family, Cassie. And we have to accept each other for what we are. I’m willing to let bygones be bygones, if you are.”
“Don’t plan on my being there, Ginna. If I feel well enough to come, I will. Otherwise I’ll stay home.”
“Are you not feeling better these days, Cassie? I would have thought you’d be strong again by now. After all, the baby is three months old.”
“Oh, Ginna, you’re so naive. Don’t you know what’s wrong with me?”
“No. You look a little pale, though, I’ll admit.”
“I’m going to have another baby.” Cassie looked decidedly sour as she spoke.
“Already?” Ginna’s look was incredulous.
“These men don’t even give you time to catch your breath, Ginna. And you might as well learn it, too. Mama didn’t prepare me for this part of marriage. She kept talking about how Stanley would soon lose interest in me. My God, I wish he would. Most of the time, he even comes home in the middle of the day, but it’s not food that he wants. Today’s about the only day this week I’ve had any peace. But if he keeps up this perverse behavior, I’ll be as fat as Mama was, with more than a dozen children.”
“Large families aren’t so bad, Cassie.”
“You sound like such an expert. Tell me that after you go through all the pain. I think you’ll change your mind.”
“But you love little Stanley, don’t you?”
“When he isn’t crying.”
Ginna stood. “Cassie, I need to go. Jonathan is coming for me early. His mother’s having a small dinner party at his house tonight. Morrow and Andrew have just gotten here. The only other ones who’re not family are the Montgomerys. If you remember, I traveled to Chicago with them.”
At the sound of an outside door opening, Cassie looked exasperated. “Don’t tell me Stanley’s come home early.” She looked at Ginna. “Sit down, Ginna. Stay a while longer.”
“I can’t, Cassie. I just told you I’m already late.”
Ginna met Stanley in the hallway. “Good afternoon, Stanley.”
“Ginna,” he said, nodding. “Are you leaving?”
“Yes. I’ve been visiting with Cassie and the baby.”
He looked relieved that she was on her way out. “Don’t let me keep you. I know how busy a bride is two days before her wedding.”
“I was telling Cassie that I hope you’ll both come to the wedding.”
He smiled knowingly. “If Cassie feels up to it. She’s been a little peckish within the past week.”
He didn’t wait to see her out. Stanley rushed on, calling from the hallway, “Cassie, where are you?”
“Hush, Stanley. Don’t wake the baby. He’s just gone to sleep.”
“Good. Then Harriet can watch him for the next hour.”
“I’m not feeling well, Stanley. I’m beginning to get a headache.”
“Then come up to the bedroom with me, and I’ll soothe it away.”
Ginna rushed down the steps to the small phaeton. She didn’t want to hear any
