A Drowned Maiden's Hair
Laura Amy Schlitz
About the author:
Laura Amy Schlitz is the author of the Newbery Medal-winning GOOD MASTERS!
SWEET LADIES! VOICES FROM A MEDIEVAL VILLAGE, illustrated by Robert Byrd.
She is also the author of A DROWNED MAIDEN'S HAIR: A MELODRAMA; THE
HERO SCHLIEMAN: THE DREAMER WHO DUG FOR TROY; and THE BEARSKINNER:
A STORY OF THE BROTHERS GRIMM, a retelling illustrated by Max Grafe. She
lives in Baltimore, where she is a lower school librarian at the Park School.
About the book:
Maud Flynn is known at the orphanage for her impertinence. So when the charming Miss Hyacinth
chooses her to take home, the girl is pleased but baffled, until she learns of her new role: helping
to stage elaborate séances for bereaved patrons. As Maud is drawn deeper into the deception,
playing the "secret child," she is torn between her need to please and her growing conscience. It
takes a shocking betrayal to make clear just how heartless her so-called guardians are. Filled with
fascinating details of turn-of-the-century spiritualism and page-turning suspense, this novel from
Newbery Medalist Laura Amy Schlitz features a feisty heroine whom readers will not soon forget.
Review:
It was not until the Misses Hawthorne boarded the train that Maud was able to open her
book. She had ridden in a train once before, when she left St. Anne's Children's Home for
the Barbary Asylum, and she was glad of it, because it allowed her to assume the
nonchalance of a world traveler. She sat down primly, back straight.
"You mustn't read in the train," said Judith Hawthorne. "You'll be sick."
Maud was sure she would not be sick. She opened her mouth to argue and then
remembered that she had made up her mind to be perfectly good. She shut her book,
folded her hands on top of it, and answered, "No, ma'am."
"Miss Hyacinth has something to say to you," continued Judith, and Maud, getting the
hang of it, piped up, "Yes, ma'am."
The two sisters looked at each other. After a moment, Hyacinth gave a little laugh.
"Maudy, do you remember what you said earlier today - about how you would do
whatever we asked of you?"
Maud had once slapped a little girl who tried to nickname her Maudy. She replied, "Yes,
ma'am. I remember. I meant it, too," she added generously.
"Good." Hyacinth hesitated for a moment. "Do you like secrets, Maud?"
Maud thought about it. "I like to know secrets," she said at last, "but I don't like secrets
that aren't mine."
Apparently this was not the answer Hyacinth had expected. She changed the subject. "Do
you remember what I told you in the bookstore? That you wouldn't be going to school
right away?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Are you sorry for that? Do you mind very much?"
"No, ma'am."
"That's good." Hyacinth lowered her voice mysteriously. "You see, Maud, Judith and I have
a secret. If you were to go to school, that secret might come out. In a little while, once we
are sure of you, we will tell you everything, but first we have to make sure we can trust
you. Later on, we'll ask you to help us with our work."
Maud wrinkled her nose at that word work. Then she rallied. After all, even if she had to
empty chamber pots, or peel potatoes, there would be fewer chamber pots and fewer
potatoes than were required for sixty-three little girls. "I'll help you," she promised. "At
the Asylum . . . well, sometimes I didn't do exactly what I was supposed to, but that was
because Miss Kitteridge was so mean."
Hyacinth seemed to follow her thoughts. "I don't mean that kind of work. You won't have
many chores to do, because we have a hired girl. Our work is different. It isn't hard, but
it's secret. And - just at first - you, too, must be a secret. You're going to be our secret
child."
Maud's forehead puckered with bewilderment.
"Our secret child," repeated Hyacinth. "Doesn't it sound nice? During the first few weeks
of being our little girl, no one's going to know about you. You won't go to school. You
won't lack for exercise, because we have a lovely garden, with a high wall round it - but
when callers come to the house, you'll go upstairs, to the third floor and stay hidden. It
will be like a game of hide-and-seek. Do you understand?"
Maud cast a sidelong glance at Judith, whose face was serious, almost grim. "I understand
the part about hiding," she ventured. "I mean, I can stay hidden from other people, if you
want me to. But I don't understand why."
"No, of course you don't," Hyacinth said tenderly. "All this must seem terribly mysterious
to you - and so sudden." She put an arm around Maud's shoulders and drew her close. Her
voice grew even softer, as if she were talking to a very little child. "Is it very hard, not
knowing? Are you frightened? I can't bear to think that you should be afraid."
For a moment, Maud could not think what to do. One part of her wanted to bury her face
in Hyacinth's violet-scented coat. Another part of her understood that she had it in her
power to confer a favor. She gave herself a little shake. "No," she said stoutly. "No,
ma'am, I'm not frightened."
Hyacinth squeezed her again. "You really are a darling girl," said Hyacinth Hawthorne.
"Isn't she, Judith?"
Judith didn't answer. The elder Miss Hawthorne had turned to face the window. Her
profile was hawklike, with its sharp eyes and Roman nose. Maud had a feeling that Judith
didn't talk about "darlings" very much. A little daunted, she glanced back at Hyacinth.
Hyacinth was smiling faintly. Maud relaxed. It was Hyacinth who mattered, after all - and
Hyacinth thought she was a darling girl.
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