frowned. Not certain? She opened the trunk and surveyed the contents. Elizabeth drew out some embroidered handkerchiefs and handed them to the little girl. “Why don’t you spread one or two across the top of the bureau?”
Yoke Soo stepped close. “So pretty!” A smile teased at her tiny lips. She unfolded the cloth squares and arranged them on top of the dresser—two matching ones on each side, a different one in the center.
Elizabeth drew out a skirt and laid it across the bed. “Why don’t you hand me things, and I’ll find a place to put them away?”
The girl dug her hands into the chest and pulled out Elizabeth’s blue gown. Her fingers clutched the silk as it cascaded down like a waterfall.
“You like that one?” Elizabeth reached for the dress. “I made it myself. I’ll be teaching sewing here. Maybe I can teach you to make pretty things, too.”
Yoke Soo ran a finger along the embroidered bodice. “Mai Yoo had a blue silk dress when she came.”
Elizabeth knelt at the child’s side, trying to read her expression. “What happened to her dress?”
The little girl glanced up, the glossy blue fabric casting a pallor across her skin. “She didn’t like us. She went back.”
To the brothels? A prickle crept along Elizabeth’s back. “I’m sure she must have liked you.”
Yoke Soo’s lips pressed into a line and she shrugged. “Kum Yong said she missed her pretty things.”
“We all like pretty things. You wore a pretty red tunic in Sacramento.” Elizabeth eyed the child’s simple cotton shirt and loose trousers.
“Lo Mo says beauty comes from within. From Jesus’ love shining through us, like a lamp.” Yoke Soo’s cheeks pinked.
“Yes, well, I’m sure she’s correct. Must be why you’re so lovely.” Elizabeth couldn’t resist tweaking the tip of Yoke Soo’s nose. Elizabeth shook the wrinkles from the gown and hung it in the small closet.
Yoke Soo beamed and began removing garments from the trunk, admiring each one before handing it to Elizabeth. “You seem nice, for a teacher. I hope you’ll stay.”
At least she’d won over one pupil. “We’ll see if I meet with Miss Cameron’s approval.”
A sudden flurry of footsteps in the hall drew their attention. Yoke Soo’s face paled. A brown shirtwaist dropped from her hands. “Class is over. I should go.”
An older girl appeared in the doorway, brows drawn low over her piercing eyes. “Yoke Soo, you shouldn’t be here.”
Yoke Soo brushed past Elizabeth and hurried to the newcomer’s side. “I was just helping our new teacher, Tien Gum.”
The girl raised her head, pinning Elizabeth with a hardened gaze. “Teacher won’t want your help.”
“I beg to differ.” Elizabeth spoke up. “Yoke Soo has been quite helpful. In fact, we were just getting to know one another.” She stepped forward and clasped the edge of the door. “My name is Elizabeth King. I’m pleased to meet you.”
The girl snatched Yoke Soo’s hand and pulled her into the hall. “She’s not supposed to be upstairs during lesson time.” Her chin jutted forward.
Elizabeth sighed. “I see. But please, don’t blame Yoke Soo. I asked for her assistance.”
She strode away, tugging the younger girl behind her like a toy train.
Yoke Soo glanced back, her shoulders sagging.
Elizabeth waggled her fingers in farewell, earning a faint smile from her new friend. Hopefully, the girl wouldn’t get into too much trouble.
Students streamed up and down the hall, their chirping conversations dimming as they spotted the newcomer.
Elizabeth withdrew and closed the door with a gentle click. She should finish her work and dress for her meeting with Miss Cameron.
She lifted the last skirt from the bottom of the trunk—a green silk with pink roses. Her throat tightened remembering Yoke Soo’s reaction to the blue gown. Perhaps she’d best save the fancier frocks for times away from the Mission. She’d do her best to fit in, but if—like the child said—beauty was dependent on God’s light shining through, Elizabeth still had a lot of work ahead.
***
Charles shrugged off his suit jacket, the irresistible scent of roasting meat causing his stomach to growl like a wounded bear. He glanced around the corner cafe, the myriad of raucous conversations a welcome change from the quiet law office. “Not exactly a genteel locale.”
“Genteel?” Henry shouted over his shoulder. “San Francisco was founded by gold prospectors. If you want genteel, head east.” He ducked through the crowd, securing a table in the back.
Charles hung his coat and hat on the corner of a chair. “I guess I’ve not seen much outside the financial district.”
The man grinned, his round head bobbling on a short neck. “Time for some adventures, my friend.” He leaned forward, lowering his voice. “Just keep in mind there are places to avoid, if you want to keep on your uncle’s good side.”
Charles sat back in his chair, smoothing down his vest. “Like where?”
Henry hitched an eyebrow. “Stay clear of the Barbary Coast and the Chinatown alleys.”
“Ah, yes. I’ve heard of such places.” Donaldina Cameron’s stories still haunted him.
“The bureaucrats did their best to move Chinatown after the quake, but no such luck.”
“Move it? Because of the vice?”
“I’m not sure they cared about those things, but the land down there’s worth a fortune. Or it would be, if they could wrest the property from the Chinese.”
Charles wrapped his hand around the water glass. “What happened?”
“The land the consulate occupied belonged to the Chinese government. They sent a delegation to the governor, vowing to move all Oriental trade to Seattle if the Celestials—the Chinese immigrants—weren’t allowed to return to their property.”
“Decisions always come down to the dollar. I imagine the threat got the governor’s attention.”
“And Mayor Schmitz’s, too.” Henry smirked. “Of course, he’s gone now. Extortion charges don’t do much for a political career.”
A dark-haired woman appeared to take their order. Charles skimmed the menu, choosing the chicken dinner, the same as his new friend. He took a sip of the steaming coffee. “Was my uncle involved in trying to relocate Chinatown? I overheard him dressing someone down about a trinket shop.”
Henry folded both arms across his barrel chest. “Is there anything your uncle isn’t involved in? He’s fixated on transforming San Francisco into some kind of model city. It’s never going to happen, though.”
“Why not?”
“It’s a jewel of gold in a swine’s snout, if you ask me.”
Charles choked on his coffee. “A swine’s snout?” He mopped a napkin across his chin. “Proverbs, right? ‘As a jewel of gold in a swine’s snout, so is a fair woman which is without discretion.’ ”
“Very good.” Henry beamed. “You know the Scriptures?”
“A fair amount. But you’re comparing the city to a woman with loose morals?”
“No matter how hard the officials try to make us a showpiece, this will always be a gold rush town, complete with crooked streets and crookeder politicians, not to mention countless houses of ill repute.”
“There seems to be some housecleaning going on.