Another figure stepped into the narthex, and Ellen recognized Mrs. Finley carrying a smallish wooden box.
“Mrs. Chisom,” Amelia greeted. “It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you.”
“I, too, am glad you could come here to pick up the donations. It seemed a much safer place to meet than your dispensary.”
Amelia’s smile froze on her face. “We haven’t had any issues there.”
Mrs. Chisom smiled placidly and beckoned Mrs. Finley forward.
Mrs. Finley balanced the box in her arms, the slender woman flashing a quick, shy smile at Ellen and Amelia. “We knitted wee booties, blankets, and even a few socks for the tots.”
Ellen blinked, her arms halfway outstretched to take the burden. She cocked her head, trying to think through a polite response.
“I’m afraid there must be some misunderstanding.” Amelia frowned. “We can certainly use those items, but, Mrs. Chisom, I thought we would receive funds today to purchase a few medical supplies?”
Mrs. Chisom waved her hand in the air, brushing aside Amelia’s concern and confusion. “Ah, yes, well, we as a group changed our minds. We thought this would be more useful.”
Ellen glanced at Amelia, raising an eyebrow.How do you wish to proceed?
Amelia arranged her features into a tight smile and gave Ellen a slight nod.
Ellen reached for the box and took it from Mrs. Finley, her wool gloves rasping against the rough bottom of the box. It was rather light.
“I appreciate the gift,” Amelia said carefully. “However, in the future, it helps us most to receive what we’ve requested. Especially if it’s been agreed to already.”
Mrs. Finley darted a glance at Mrs. Chisom, hunching her shoulders and stepping backward.
“Pish posh.” Mrs. Chisom did that hand wave again, making Ellen grit her teeth.
“I believe,” Amelia said precisely, “if you do decide to grace us with more gifts, we will have to carefully consider whether we can accept them.”
Mrs. Chisom’s eyes sparked at that. “One might extend more gratitude to people who have gone out of their way to help. Particularly when the cause to driving out pauperism and sin needs all the help it can receive.” She was too polite to sneer, but her tone revealed exactly what she thought of the families who were receiving her aid.
“Yes,” Amelia agreed. “If it indeed does help. Otherwise…” She trailed off, shrugging.
Ellen bit her lip to hide a smile.
“Well.” Mrs. Chisom straightened to her full height, bristling like an unhappy hen. “There are countless organizations that provide charity to the deserving poor across London. Perhaps one of them would be more grateful for our patronage.”
Amelia bared her teeth in a smile. “Perhaps so.”
Mrs. Finley’s eyes were as wide as saucers, glancing back and forth with alarm.
Ellen cleared her throat. If they were burning bridges, then there was no point in holding her tongue. “We reviewed all the gifts you donated last time, and unfortunately had to dispose of quite a few items. Particularly those baby bottles—it would be remiss of me not to mention how hazardous they are to babies’ health in case any of the mothers in your quilting group were unaware.”
Mrs. Chisom turned her stony face to Ellen. Twin spots of red highlighted her cheeks, but beyond that her poise didn’t betray her emotion. “I beg your pardon?”
“The murder bottles.” Ellen’s tone was both cheerful and measured, as if educating a particularly slow pupil. “Because, ofcourse, the women and children of St. Giles deserve just as high-quality care as anyone else, correct? After all, we’re all God’s children.”
Mrs. Chisom’s nostrils flared.
“It would be a shame if any of your group donated inferior items anywhere else. Items that belong in the rubbish heap. I’m sure the lovely women of St. Barnabas would hate for anyone to misconstrue their motives for gifts—either as an easy way to dispose of rubbish or because they feel that the children of St. Giles aren’t as valuable as the children of Pimlico, and therefore if a few die from the murder bottles, it’s not such a tragedy.”
Mrs. Finley squeaked. “Oh, but that’s not?—"
Ellen widened her smile. “But because you’re good, Christian women you understand that God loves all his children, and I know that once the confusion about the bottles is cleared up, your group will do the right thing.”
Mrs. Chisom pursed her lips. “Quite.”