by Michelle Cox
But now that she knew that such a world existed, it was worse than being completely ignorant of it, as she had been but a few hours ago.
“Well, what do you think of our school, Elsie?” Sr. Bernard had asked her on the way back to the Skyscraper, their tour over. Roused from her churning thoughts, Elsie was so overcome that all she could manage was a silly, “It’s lovely, Sister.”
Sr. Bernard, after hearing about Elsie’s limited formal education, had suggested that, as the school operated on trimesters, Elsie should take the upcoming winter and spring terms to brush up on her studies and then take the entrance exam in the summer to hopefully be enrolled next fall. Elsie’s heart sank upon hearing this, feeling that that was an eternity away—almost a whole year!—but she brightened when Henrietta explained that they were hoping Elsie might be enrolled in the upcoming winter term, if possible. Sr. Bernard then commented that it was very unusual for a girl to join midyear and that such haste often suggested other troubles (here she looked carefully at Elsie), and she sincerely hoped such troubles would not follow any girl to the school, she added quietly.
“No, it’s nothing like that,” Henrietta said, with convincing innocence. “It’s just that Elsie is eager to begin, having decided that this is the path for her.”
“I see,” Sr. Bernard said, though she looked a trifle unconvinced.
“If there’s any inconvenience, any added work for the staff, I would be happy to compensate for that,” Henrietta said smoothly.
Elsie was not sure what amazed her more, the fact that this discussion was actually happening at all or that Henrietta could be so brazenly suggestive, so able to carry herself with such confidence. Clearly, she had learned much already in her new life.
“That won’t be necessary,” Sr. Bernard said with a patronizing smile.
“Perhaps Elsie could take just one or two classes this next term,” Henrietta suggested. “It would be a sort of trial run, to see if she’s really ready.”
“But we wouldn’t even know where to place her,” Sr. Bernard said gently. “We have no idea what she is capable of.”
“She’s very bright. Aren’t you, Elsie?”
Elsie merely looked down at the floor until Henrietta gave her arm a little nudge and she looked up and muttered, “Well, I suppose. A little, anyway.”
“Yes, I’m sure you are,” Sr. Bernard responded kindly, “but—”
“Mighten she take the entrance exam today, then?” Henrietta offered, clearly ignoring Elsie’s somewhat frantic fidgeting. “Just to see where she stands?”
“I don’t think that would be very fair to Elsie, do you?” she asked and then paused for a moment of consideration. “Tell you what. Why don’t I administer a different test today? A sort of general aptitude test, one that’s not so frightening,” she said, offering Elsie a smile. “And then we’ll have a better idea. We’ll also need your records transferred from St. Sylvester’s.”
“Yes, of course,” Henrietta replied. “That can easily be arranged.”
“This is quite irregular,” Sr. Bernard added. “I can’t imagine what Sr. Vincent will say,” she mused. “And yet, that might be reason enough to do it,” she laughed.
Elsie looked up, surprised. She had never seen a nun laugh, and it had an oddly cheering effect on her. She already liked Sr. Bernard— very much—and she hoped she might have the chance to get to know her better.
“Well, why not?” Sr. Bernard went on. “If you are agreeable, Elsie, you’ll take the general aptitude test today so that we might uncover your deficiencies, if you have any, that is,” she said gently. “Once we know where you may be lacking, you might use this information in the procurement and employ of a reputable tutor. Might I further suggest one of our own sisters—to my mind, our Sister Sebastian would be perfect—to help you over the Christmas break, as it is nearly six weeks long. Much can be accomplished in that time for those who apply themselves,” she said earnestly. “At the end of the break, you can take the official entrance exam, and if you pass, I’ll allow you to begin at the winter term in January. Would this be agreeable?” she asked, looking first at Elsie and then at Henrietta.
Elsie opened her mouth to protest this plan, but Henrietta spoke first.
“Yes, that sounds very wise, Sister Bernard,” Henrietta said quickly. “Thank you ever so much.”
Sr. Bernard acknowledged Henrietta with a nod, but she looked at Elsie now, obviously wanting her to speak for herself. Sensing this as well, Elsie again opened her mouth to speak, yet nothing but a gurgled gasp erupted, so she merely nodded her head instead. Apparently taking that as a yes, Sr. Bernard gave her a quick smile and began to look through various drawers for the test. Not finding it, she stood, her rosary beads clacking, to look in the hutch of shelving off to the right of the desk, each box labeled with the names of various departments. She flipped through several stacks of paper, but still not finding it, let out a deep sigh and excused herself to go look for it in an adjoining office.
“Here we are! We were nearly undone then, weren’t we?” Sr. Bernard said with an odd touch of gaiety to her voice, as she reentered the room now. “Ready, Miss Von Harmon?” she asked, to which Elsie gave a slight nod. “Just through there, then,” she said, gesturing toward a small room off the registrar’s office. “You may sit the test in there. Mrs. Howard, I invite you to remain and wait, or perhaps make use of the library? Your sister will need approximately two hours’ time,” she added, moving toward the little room, seemingly eager to begin. “I trust you’ll be all right on your own?”
“Yes, of course,” Henrietta said, standing up now as well. “Thank you, Sister.”
Elsie rose slowly and tried to breathe deeply, but her breath was shallow and fast, as if she couldn’t get enough air. She suddenly felt panicky. Henrietta seemed to sense her distress, thankfully, and reached out and took her hand. She squeezed it softly and then suddenly gently embraced her. “Don’t worry, Elsie. You’ll be brilliant,” she whispered. “You’re better than you think.” She pulled away, then, and moved to the door, giving a little wave as she exited.
Elsie watched her go and desperately hoped that her sister was right.
Chapter 5
By the time Henrietta returned to Mundelein, it was nearly dark, though it was only four in the afternoon.
While Elsie had toiled at taking her test, Henrietta had directed Fritz to drive her to the Edgewater Beach Hotel, where she had afternoon tea for one. She wished she had said yes to Julia’s suggestion that she accompany them to Mundelein when Henrietta had telephoned her yesterday to inquire more about the college. Henrietta had declined her offer at the time, thinking that it might make Elsie more uncomfortable than she already was, but as Henrietta sat by herself at a table facing the lake, she wished she had said otherwise, as she would have liked a long chat with Julia, having truly come to love her as a sister.
And there was so very much they could have talked about, especially now that she was a married woman. Not that she wished to reveal anything intimate about her and Clive, but rather she wanted to know more about Randolph and his beastly behavior toward her. She knew she couldn’t really do anything about it, as Julia herself had said, but perhaps she could think of a way to help. She supposed, however, that even if Julia were here, she would be uncommunicative on this subject, anyway, as she was very skilled, Henrietta had observed, at directing the conversation away from herself.
Well, Henrietta thought, selecting a cucumber sandwich from the little three-tiered tray in front of her, she could also have asked her more about her days at Castle Linley with Clive and Linley and Wallace, hoping for a different perspective on those childhood days than what Clive had already told her while there on their honeymoon trip. Or maybe she should bring up Clive’s days in the war, though she doubted Julia knew any more than she did herself. He was so moody these days, and, well . . . unsettled in his mind. Alcott’s death was weighing heavily on him. Perhaps she should mention to Julia his
suspicion—or should she say preoccupation?—that Alcott’s death was not necessarily an accident. But to what end? No, she resolved, she would just have to wait it out. He would soon forget it once he took up his duties at Linley Standard, she supposed.
She looked at her wristwatch and was surprised that so much time had already passed, so she signaled the waiter for the bill and waited for him to bring her her things. She prayed that the test had gone well for Elsie and that this might be a real option for her, not just a whimsical fantasy. She admitted that as they had walked around the campus, she wouldn’t have minded being a student there herself, but that was obviously not an option for her. And it felt good, to be honest, that for once Elsie was the one getting something instead of her.
Elsie, as it turned out, was ready and waiting for her when Fritz pulled up and parked in the circle near the Skyscraper building. As Henrietta hurried up the Skyscraper’s steps, she found Elsie and Sr. Bernard already in the lobby, Elsie smiling sheepishly. Sr. Bernard explained that given the situation, they would attempt to score the test as quickly as possible and would let them know the results by post, hopefully in the next few days, so that arrangements with a tutor could be made accordingly, if needed. She had wished them well, then, and patted Elsie on the arm before they turned to go, saying that she very much wished that Elsie would be able to join their little community.
All the way back to Palmer Square, Henrietta grinned at Elsie’s excited recitation of the various test questions, saying that it wasn’t so bad after all, that it was a trifle fun, actually, answering all the problems. She was pretty sure, she said, that she had done passably well on the language and history sections, but she was sure she had failed the mathematics and the sciences.
“Oh, Henrietta,” she said wistfully. “Do you think I’ll get in? I so want to, you know. I didn’t think I did, but I do.”
“Of course you’ll get in,” Henrietta said, taking her hand and giving it a squeeze before letting them rest together on the seat. “You’ve begun, and that’s all that matters.”
When they finally reached Palmer Square, it was the dinner hour, and Elsie begged Henrietta to stay with them. She was sure Cook, or Chef, rather, wouldn’t mind, she urged; there was always too much, anyway. Henrietta paused to think. She hadn’t expected their inquiries at Mundelein to take so long. In truth, she was eager to get back to Clive and Highbury, but she was overcome with guilt at being so rarely with her family, of always saying no to them. Reluctantly, then, she agreed to stay and put on a false smile as she followed the now ecstatic Elsie up the steps.
Once inside, Henrietta paused in the front hall to telephone Highbury before going in to greet them all. Billings, of course, answered, and she asked him if she might speak with Mr. Howard. When Clive eventually came on the line, she could tell he had been worried, but he was obliging of her wish to stay a bit longer, saying “of course it’s all right, darling.” She detected something disquieting in his voice, however, that she just couldn’t place. Perhaps it was something in the line; they were unused to speaking to each other on the telephone, and indeed it felt strange to hear his voice come through. But it seemed more than that. He sounded subdued, but that was to be expected, was it not? Guiltily, she hoped it wasn’t due to worry over her being out longer than expected. Well, perhaps it would be nice for him to dine alone with his mother? she had suggested, and he had absently agreed, saying, “Yes, by all means you should stay.” Henrietta hung up the receiver, disconcerted, but she was determined to try to shake it off for the time she was with her family, which she knew would not be too difficult, as they were all constantly vying for her attention anyway.
For the whole of the meal (which she found to be surprisingly tasty) and later when they had adjourned to the parlor, Henrietta consciously tried to steer the conversation toward noninflammatory subjects, which was not easy given the fact that she could not ever predict which subjects would inflame Ma at any given moment. Henrietta decided that long descriptions of Castle Linley, and England in general, were probably safe enough topics and so proceeded with such, though taking care to periodically glance over at Ma every so often, as if watching an unsteady boiler for signs of eruption.
Castle Linley, Henrietta was now explaining, much to the boys’ disappointment, was not a castle at all, but rather a large estate house. That comment, however, unfortunately prompted Jimmy to innocently ask if Castle Linley was anywhere near Phillips Ex-ter, followed by another question, which was why they had to go away at all, and was it something bad they had done?
“Of course not, Jimmy,” Henrietta said, pulling him onto her lap, where she sat on the settee, nervously looking over at Ma as she did so, sensing they had just been flung into stormy waters. “It’s not meant to be a punishment,” she said, looking at all of them uneasily. “It’s a great honor, actually,” she said somewhat weakly.
“Honor? To get sent away like poor Eugene?” Eddie scoffed. “It’s not fair, Hen! We don’t want to go!”
“Well, you’ll all be together,” Henrietta tried to say encouragingly, though in truth the thought of little Jimmy so far from home tore at her heart. “Phillips Exeter is perhaps the finest school in the country,” she continued, trying to repeat Clive’s words to her. “It’s very, very expensive and difficult to get into. Grandfather went through a lot of trouble on your behalf.”
Ma snorted in the corner. “Don’t be fooled,” she sneered. “It isn’t for the benefit of any of you, it’s all for him. He just wants to control you, as he does everyone. Look what he did with John and Gerard and Archibald,” Ma said, reeling off the names of her brothers. “Look how they turned out. Still bowing down to him.”
Henrietta contemplated this, concluding that while Uncle John did seem rather obliging, she did not view Gerard as being particularly submissive, but she decided not to say so.
“I’m the only one who wouldn’t let him control me, and now he seeks to punish me this way. To take you from me and turn you against me, too. How can you not see his cruelty, Henrietta?” Ma asked angrily, shifting her focus from all of them to just her, as if she were somehow responsible.
“Ma! He’s not trying to be cruel to you!” Henrietta retorted. “I know it must seem that way to you, and I admit he has been fierce in the past, but not everything has you at its center. You must see that, don’t you? I honestly think he is trying to do the best for the boys. Educate them well so that they have the best prospects in life. Isn’t that a wonderful thing? Something that was impossible for us such a short time ago! Instead of feeling downcast, we should be celebrating our good fortune,” she suggested uneasily, looking around at them all and hoping she could convince them of something she didn’t necessarily feel.
“Yes,” Elsie put in hesitantly. “I think Hen’s right. It’s a chance for you all to make something of yourselves,” she said, looking at her brothers in turn.
“Are you two really that blind?” Ma asked bitterly. “There are plenty of schools here! Why ship them off? It’s only to punish me, I’m telling you!”
“I admit I don’t understand it all, Ma,” Henrietta sighed. “He has some notion about Phillips Exeter. That ‘all Exley men go there’ or some such thing. I’m sure there will be many advantages.”
“But they’re not Exleys!” Ma shouted.
“I know that as well as anyone, Ma,” Henrietta said tiredly. “But that’s not the case in Grandfather’s eyes. Who knows?” she said, trying to give Eddie and Herbie an enthusiastic smile. “Perhaps it will be the making of you.”
Eddie turned away, but Herbie hesitantly returned Henrietta’s smile. He was always the softer of the two boys that were so close in age. He was an old soul, wise beyond his twelve years. Henrietta had only been six years old when her two siblings, Rita and Albert, had died of the flu—Rita was just two years old and Albert barely one. But she knew Ma had a picture of them in her top drawer. Occasionally over the years, Henrietta would sneak into the room and take it out to look
at it. She had long ago determined that they looked a lot like Herbie, with the same sandy-brown hair with big, light-brown eyes, making them resemble innocent fawns.
“I don’t mind going,” Herbie said to Henrietta. “I’d like to learn more. St. Sylvester’s is a good enough school, but it’s been rough, hasn’t it, Ed?” he asked, moving slightly in an attempt to catch Eddie’s eye, his brother’s face downturned. “You know, after . . .” he shot a nervous glance at Ma, “after Pa.” He looked again at Ma, and seeing that she didn’t react, tentatively went on, softly. “Kids, and the teachers too, never treated us the same after that. You know that, Eddie,” he said almost pleadingly. “That’s why you’re always getting in fights, I reckon. First, we was poor, and now we’re rich. You’d think that would put us in a good spot with kids, but they’re even more cruel now.” He paused. “This way we can start over, Ed,” he went on. “Think about it. We’ll miss home, of course,” he said, throwing yet another glance at Ma. “But we’ll be okay.” He looked up at Henrietta, obviously seeking her approval.
Henrietta’s heart swelled at his little speech, and she thought she might embrace him. Before she could, however, he spoke again.
“And you, Jim, bet you’ll be the very best first year there is. We’ll look after you; don’t you worry none.”
Jimmy, clearly not as impressed with Herbie’s exhortation as Henrietta was, did not respond at all, but instead wriggled all the way back on the settee, further squeezing himself between Henrietta and Elsie until he could barely be seen. Henrietta felt his hand go to his pocket, where she knew he kept his blanket, or perhaps a remnant of it, having been forbidden by Nanny to carry it about any more.
Could a little boy who still needed a blanket survive an austere boarding school out east? Henrietta wondered uneasily. If she were honest with herself, it didn’t feel right, but what could she do? She was already treading on thin ice with Grandfather over asking Mr. Hennessey to walk her down the aisle instead of him and now regarding her interference with Elsie. Nor did she feel she could bother Clive with such a thing just at the moment when he had so many other things on his mind. There seemed nothing for it but to go along with the plan, at least for now. Maybe Clive was right when he had told her about it months ago. Maybe it would indeed be good for them, especially given Ma’s somewhat neglect of them.