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Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX

Wednesday, 24 March, 1869

The closed cart rattled its way through a set of heavy iron gates. Ellen peered out of the small side window. Her insides quivered as she took in the leafy trees and a sliver of clear blue sky. She whispered its name: Belle Vue. An exotic sound so full of promise. Then came the first view.

She gasped at its beauty, like a magical palace. It was so large, she couldn’t see where the two wings of the mansion ended.

“What yer grinning at, missy?” asked the thin, grimy man sitting opposite. He wore workhouse garb, coarse and ill-fitting. “It may look good, but it’s still an asylum. A prison fer the likes of us.”

Ellen ignored the old fellow shackled hand and foot. For every mile they traveled, she’d felt her spirits rise. London’s dense yellow fog and soot-covered structures were replaced by fresh air, stretches of green and buildings still their original color. How wonderful of Mary to arrange this for her. Ellen wondered if she might find work h
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