After the women were locked up, the Receiving Matron said to her, "Take those things to our room! We will go up now," she said to me.
I started back as she led me to the stone stairs of the prison, and began to ascend them.
"Where are we going?" I asked in surprise.
"Our room is up here," she replied quietly.
"In the prison! are we to sleep in the prison?"
"Yes."
She made no further comment. It was too late in the day to recede or demur. I followed her up, up, up, over five stone flights, along a stone walk to the farther end of the building, through a grated door, into a room made up of a half dozen cells with a dormer window in the roof. Some straw had been thrown down upon the stone floor, and an old woolen carpet laid over it. The walls were of stone like the cells, and whitewashed like them. There were some wooden chairs, an old bureau, two sinks, and two single beds, arranged on opposite sides of the room. In one corner was a double wardrobe, apparently to be shared in common by both Matrons.
I had not given my own accommodations a thought in taking my place in the prison. In all institutions of the kind which I had ever been in, each Matron had a nice bed-room to herself, in a comfortable part of the house, and most of them comfortable sitting-rooms attached. It never occurred to me that a female officer, in any public institution, could be requested to occupy such a room. However I could bring myself to it for the sake of carrying out the purpose that induced me to take the place.
I stood a moment, and looked all round the room. I then examined the bed. It was clean, and looked comfortable.
"Is this all the room, and are these all the comforts we are to have?" I asked of the Receiving Matron.