The Jewel Cage

by Jane Steen

  She could be a Prairie Avenue belle—might have been one, in fact, if she had decided to stay with Martin and me. Did she think of that? Had she spied the two Thuringer girls among the assembled ladies? Both were a little too plump for their age, but both definitely aspired to be young ladies of fashion now that Mr. Thuringer’s fortune warranted a permanent house in Chicago. They had recognized Thea, but there was no malice in their faces, only admiration at her looks and gracefulness. They were a merchant’s daughters and did not yet despise those who worked, as their children one day might.

  “She’s only dancing, Teddy.” I stepped out of the room to follow Teddy as he withdrew to the antechamber, past the three burly men stationed by the door. They were detailed to guard against robbery, even though the store was locked to all but its visitors. Downstairs, Joe waited with several more men, keeping a close eye on all doors and windows. “The ballroom is an essential element of society, you know that. It’s how young people are brought together when they are old enough to marry. You can’t possibly be against marriage.”

  “She’s dressed up to display goods, not to find a husband.” Teddy frowned. “I should go in there and drag her out.”

  Cold horror assailed me, not the least at the thought of Madame’s reaction should her demonstration ball be ruined. My head swam; I groped behind me, mercifully finding a chair onto which I dropped as Teddy darted to my aid.

  “I’m all right.” I swallowed, tasting bile. “You won’t—please—”

  “Not if it upsets you that much.” I looked up into a face that was far more like the open, genial Teddy of old but upon which concern for me was plainly written. “You need help—some water—maybe I should fetch Mr. Rutherford—”

  “No.” I sensed the color returning to my cheeks and gave Teddy a reassuring smile. “It’s just nerves. We’ve worked so hard on this demonstration, and then one of the dancers was indisposed and Thea saved the day by stepping in at the last minute. We’re grateful to her.” I stood up a little unsteadily; my condition seemed to cause occasional light-headedness, a fact I did not intend to reveal to Martin.

  “I swear to you, Teddy, we didn’t set out to put Thea on display.” I put as much sincerity into my voice as I could muster.

  “I believe you.” Teddy fidgeted with his hat, which was still in his hand. “I apologize for upsetting you, ma’am.” He sighed. “But the sight of her dressed up like that . . .”

  “I know.” I tried to smile. “Thea has a real talent for show, doesn’t she? That parure she’s wearing has already been spoken for, and I think I’ll have half a dozen commissions for gowns based on that dress by the end of the evening.”

  And we had sold the emeralds, which graced the neck of one of the older dancers. A silver platter stood on a corner table to receive the visiting cards of guests desiring to buy or commission goods; a clerk carefully recorded the details on each card as it was handed in. A clerk from the accounting department wrote out neat bills of sale if a direct purchase were involved. Money and goods would exchange hands the next day. The jewelry would be meticulously cleaned and mounted in a smart wooden box with mother-of-pearl inlay before being delivered to its purchaser.

  “I must get back in. There’s going to be an interval in a moment, and I need to be there to talk about the dresses.” My moment of faintness was wearing off, and I smiled at Teddy. “We’re holding a supper for the workers once we’ve all changed out of our finery. Would you like to join us? You can meet the other dancers and see that they’re all quite ordinary, industrious men and women. It’ll be a good supper too. Madame saw to it.”

  Teddy hesitated but then smiled back. “I guess it would be nice to spend a little time with my sister. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, as the saying goes, and I’m mighty glad to see her in such good health. Is there somewhere I could wait? I don’t belong in this elevated company.”

  “You do, you know.” I laid a hand on his arm. “There’s nobody in there so exalted they wouldn’t be happy to talk to a fine young man who wants to be a pastor.” I looked over my shoulder at the glittering show beyond the door. “You should stay till the end. Martin was rehearsing a tidy little speech earlier today in his dressing room.”

  I couldn’t linger now; the music was ending. Squeezing Teddy’s arm, I moved away, patting my hair and ensuring that my evening dress of royal blue-and-gold brocade had no creases. I was going to stand beside Martin as he made his speech; the dancers would flank us, giving the audience one last chance for a good look at the dresses and jewelry.

  I walked slowly into the glittering room, thanking Providence for my momentary indisposition. Perhaps Teddy would begin to reconcile himself to Thea’s chosen career, and we could all find ourselves in calm waters for a time.

  35

  Incubus

  And yet even calm waters were constantly on the move. They shifted in never-ceasing waves, ripples, eddies, lying in wait to throw the hapless sailor off balance.

  By June, just the mention of moving water made me shudder. Even though my condition had entered its fifth month, I still suffered from nausea, faintness, and lack of appetite. The summer heat brought headaches to add to my suffering, and dark shadows marred the skin under my eyes. I sometimes sensed the baby move inside me, tiny flutters more akin to the wings of a trapped moth than to a child.

  I was soon to travel to Lake Forest with Elizabeth, Sarah, and Tess to pass the worst of the hot, moist Chicago summer in the fresh air of the Parnells’ house near the lake. I had promised Martin I would rest. Besides—I could spend some of my enforced idleness working on our fall designs.

  I couldn’t hide my poor health any more than I could hide the increasing girth of my normally slender frame, and I was not spending nearly enough time at the store for my liking. Yet even Madame had said nothing. She merely nodded when I announced my Lake Forest plans.

  But before I retired from Chicago altogether, there was Thea’s seventeenth birthday to celebrate.

  “It’s nothing grand. But I wanted to get you something you might wear often.” I watched as Thea held up the pretty citrine pendant I’d had made for her. It glowed the same tawny gold as the depths of her hazel eyes, catching the light from the large windows of our front parlor and gathering it into itself like a small sun. Its gold setting made a fit match for our pale silk wall hangings, pastel colors on a cream background, and deep yellow heavy silk drapes. Through the window, Lake Michigan shone as an azure strip, busy with the dark towers of sailing ships, the white triangles of yachts, and the squat black dots of distant steamboats that trailed faint wisps of smoke.

  “It’s quite lovely.” Thea held up the teardrop-shaped jewel on its gold chain. “Thank you. I will treasure it.”

  That was the nicest thing Thea had said to me in her entire lifetime. I didn’t expect—and didn’t get—a hug or kiss, but the small smile that accompanied her words was enough for me. Our other guests—Teddy, of course, and the Fletchers—moved in to examine the pendant and comment on the clarity and color of the stone. Elizabeth Fletcher fastened the jewel around Thea’s graceful white neck while the young woman held her glossy ringlets out of the way.

  “A costly gift,” Teddy said quietly to me as we watched David hold up little Mabel to see the pendant. “I hope she’ll take care of it.” A worried frown marred his face.

  “That’s up to her,” I remarked. “She’s not a child. At her age . . . Well, to be frank, Teddy, on my seventeenth birthday I was already carrying Sarah and soon to be dispatched to the Poor Farm to hide my disgrace from the people of Victory.”

  I had celebrated my birthday back then in my usual carefree fashion, happy, as always, to be spoiled by Mama and our housekeeper, Bet. How would I have experienced that day if I had known the Poor Farm lay ahead of me? The reality of what I had done, what it meant, simply hadn’t penetrated to my obtuse skull. At that age, I saw the world as a boundless well of adventures into which I longed to plunge. I wanted to escape the limits
of life in a small town; I hadn’t realized I had effectively narrowed my choices.

  I shrugged, looking up at the young man. “Thea has shown herself to be far more sensible than I ever was. I wish you’d trust her a little more.”

  Teddy looked down at his boots. “I guess I wish I did too. I just worry about how she’s gradually wormed her way into getting exactly what she wants, even though I’ve spoken up against it. You’ve admitted to me that she’s worked as a house model twice since April.”

  “In strictly limited circumstances. She has professed herself quite happy to stay in the jewelry department for now, and that’s as it should be. She’s still a junior employee and will be for some time. But should we neglect to give an employee with her talent for sales suitable work just because she’s a girl? We would hand a boy her age who showed such promise increasing responsibility. We’d probably train him as a future shop walker with a view to becoming a department head or other kind of manager by the time he was thirty. Of course, nobody would employ a woman as a shop walker—but she might be a head of department one day. Marriage isn’t the only path, Teddy.”

  “Or she might wake up in ten years’ time with her looks gone and wish she’d married instead of filling her head with thoughts of a career.” Teddy’s round gray eyes fixed themselves on me with a seriousness that seemed old beyond his years.

  “I don’t imagine she’s going to be the sort of woman whose good looks fade quickly. Your mother was still beautiful. Besides, she’ll probably marry,” I added. “She’ll have many suitors. We lose most of our shopgirls to marriage—that’s no doubt why the heads of department are slower to promote the women. It’s only in the dressmaking atelier that a skilled woman can advance quickly, and that’s mostly because of Madame Belvoix.” I smiled at Teddy. “And I’m married and fulfilling my duty as a woman, aren’t I?” I touched the swell of my bodice lightly. “There’s hope for all of us yet.”

  Teddy flushed as I drew attention to my condition, but his embarrassment turned to laughter as Mabel gave a loud screech of frustration at not being allowed to play with the pretty bauble around Thea’s neck. I was glad of the diversion. I found myself losing patience with Teddy’s insistence on seeing the gloomy side of things. I missed the carefree boy of his prairie days. He was too young to be taking life so seriously all the time.

  “I’ll take her, Mr. Fletcher.” Sarah held out her arms for Mabel. “We can go to the nursery, and I’ll look after her ever so carefully. Mama can send one of the maids up to see we’re all right, and I’ll watch over her every minute. I’m nearly eight and a half, and Miss Baker says I’m very responsible.”

  There was another person who took life seriously, I mused as I watched Sarah working out the best way to hold a large and very wriggly baby. Mabel was over a year old, making strenuous attempts to master walking, and liable to put absolutely everything into her mouth. I crossed to the button to summon Beatrice as Sarah found the trick of settling the baby into the place where her hips would be one day. I followed as my daughter headed for the door, hitching her burden a little higher, and was relieved to see she really could carry the little girl.

  A minute or two later, I had seen Sarah head upstairs with our maid bringing up the rear and had reassured Elizabeth as to Beatrice’s competence. They would be all right in the nursery. I hoped to get Elizabeth to myself to talk about anything but babies. Elizabeth was in a delicate condition again, and our husbands had spent a moment teasing each other about their impending fatherhood, but it had only been a moment. Like all men, they appeared happy to drop the subject of children. I looked forward to doing the same.

  Unfortunately, Teddy had decided to lecture Thea on taking good care of the pendant. Why could he not accept that she had left childhood behind?

  “It’ll be a terrible temptation to folks who can’t afford such things,” he was saying. “Can you trust the people in your boardinghouse? It’s worth more than most folks earn in a month.”

  I saw Martin open his mouth to say something, no doubt to head off the quarrel presaged by Thea’s expression, but Thea was too quick.

  “If you’re going to run on and on about how poor everyone is, I’ll walk straight out of here.” Thea narrowed her eyes at her brother. “And that would be a great insult to Mr. and Mrs. Rutherford after the nice things they’ve done for us, and it would be your fault. And it’s insulting to me to imply I can’t take care of my own possessions and don’t know the value of things. And it’s insulting to the people in my boardinghouse to suggest they might not be honest.”

  She was entirely in the right of it too. Awareness that his words were both clumsy and unfair was written on Teddy’s face. He might have apologized if Thea hadn’t decided to get one more word in.

  “Your trouble is you always have your head in the mud. You want to drag me back down to your level. Here I am bettering myself, striving to realize my inner potential, while you’re wallowing down in the dirt with the poor people just like Pa and Mamma. You can’t stand it that I’m going to make something of myself.”

  “What does ‘striving to realize your inner potential’ mean?” retorted Teddy, the tips of his ears flushing red. “Pa would call that hogwash, and he’d be right. Our parents were worth ten of you.”

  Elizabeth stepped forward and laid a hand on Teddy’s arm. “Do tell me about your classes for Polish immigrants,” she said smoothly. “It’s so good of Mrs. Nowak to let you use her back parlor. Do you teach mostly men, or do the women join in?”

  She led Teddy away from his sister as Martin, taking his cue, made a remark to Thea about the latest fashion in earrings. I breathed a sigh of relief as I followed David to the piano mostly used by Sarah.

  “Do sit down, Nell.” David moved a chair close to the piano and waited until I seated myself before installing himself on the piano stool. “You look a little tired. Where’s Miss O’Dugan?”

  “With her family.” I dropped my voice. “She’s not overfond of Thea.”

  “Is anyone overfond of her?” David left off sorting through the sheets of music kept near the instrument and gave me a rueful smile.

  “To be fair, Teddy’s not helping. It was unkind of him to say what he did.” I shifted, trying to find a better position. I never seemed to be comfortable these days.

  “What exactly does it mean to realize one’s inner potential?” David, a good musician, had found a new song among the selection of music and was preparing to play. “Has Miss Lombardi become a great reader, full of advanced ideas?”

  “If she has any advanced ideas, they’re not hers.” I shook my head wearily. “She listens to her friends and no doubt apes their opinions.”

  “Don’t worry, Nell. No child of seventeen is ever truly original.” David laughed as he turned to the instrument and struck the first lively chords of “Oh, Dem Golden Slippers.”

  I welcomed the music at first, but before too long every note David played seemed to hit a sensitive place in my head. The chair was becoming more uncomfortable to sit on by the second. It was hot; the noise of insects had built up outside, sometimes audible over the music. A pity. I longed to step outside into cool greenness, but I knew from the hot bar of light that struck a marble statue in the foyer, lighting it as if from within, that there would be no respite out of doors.

  The doors between our three connecting parlors were all open. In the front, Martin sat talking to Teddy. Elizabeth had tried to engage Thea in conversation but had given up, leaving the young woman to amuse herself in front of the mirror in the middle parlor. She was trying to pretend, in the way of pretty girls, that she was not lost in rapt appreciation of her own beauty, but nobody with any powers of observation would fail to notice that she was striking poses, watching herself move, as vain as any actress.

  I rose to my feet as the music ended and David reached for another sheet.

  “I’ll visit the nursery,” I said as brightly as I could manage. “Mabel’s such an amusing little thing. I’ll
be back down in a while, and we’ll play some parlor games before we eat.”

  Elizabeth followed me out into our spacious hallway. The bar of sunlight had moved; the statue was once more just a piece of marble, a woman in classical robes, seated with bowed head and clasped hands in eternal reflection.

  “May I join you?” she asked. “It’s about time I saw to my daughter. She’s bound to need changing.” She sighed. “I’m going to hire a permanent nursemaid when this one’s born.” She patted her abdomen. “They do take a lot of looking after.”

  “Of course you can join me.” I smiled in welcome.

  “I just wondered if you might not really be heading for the nursery.” Since the staircase was wide enough for two people, Elizabeth caught up with me and we proceeded upward side by side, our fashionably narrow skirts barely touching. “You might have just wanted the lavatory or to lie down for twenty minutes.”

  “Both of those.” I grinned at her. “But that’s more or less a permanent condition these days.”

  “Yes, you’re not at all well, are you?”

  “That’s an understatement. I can’t remember Sarah being nearly such a nuisance. This one’s like hatching an incubus.” I walked slowly, holding tight to the handrail. “And it’s so hot. I declare my feet are swelling; I can barely lift them.”

  “Poor you.” Elizabeth looked sympathetic.