Abigail and Olivia were still hard at work in the kitchen, now dicing an assortment of vegetables for stew.“There you are,” Abigail said, wiping her hands on her apron. “How’s Tom?”“He’s unconscious right now. The doctor says we’ll need to wait and see before we’ll know for sure.” Harriet sank into the chair in the corner. “Miss Hampton sent me down for something to eat.”“We just pulled some bread from the oven. Olivia made it, and it might not be terrible. I have more hope for it than I did for her tea, which is odd because you’d think tea would be easier.” Abigail sliced the end from a loaf and put it on a plate.Olivia threw the carrot she had been chopping into the pot, then turned. “I owe you an apology, Harriet,” she said. “I’m from New York, you know, and we’re more outspoken there. Plus, I might naturally be more straightforward than most—Elizabeth lectured me for quite a long while about that. I didn’t mean to be unkind to you earlier, and I’m sorry.
