by Betty Annand
When Gladys didn’t move, the woman stuck out a few of her chins, and added, “You, girl, get back up those stairs and wait until we have made our way to the top!” Gladys was so shocked by the woman’s rudeness that she stood staring down at her with her mouth hanging open.
“Are you a dimwit then?” the woman continued; “Roger, fetch the proprietor. We shall soon put an end to this nonsense. It is disgraceful the way some of these servants don’t know their place.”
The thought of having to answer more questions was enough to frighten Gladys, so smiling sweetly, she said, “Oh dear, I am so sorry, but I was so taken with your beautiful outfit that I found myself spellbound. I was just on my way to purchase some stockings. I tore mine yesterday while walking through some tall grasses. I don’t work here, but I can see you are a lady of a high echelon,” she remembered the word from the gentlemen’s conversation in the coach, “please forgive me for making you wait.” Then, without waiting for an answer, she turned and ran back up the stairs hoping the woman had believed her.
The ruse worked, and the woman swelled up like a balloon with the praise. To be mistaken for a lady of quality had always been her utmost ambition, even though she was merely the wife of a salesman. It took a fair time and a good deal of huffing and puffing, along with a few boosts on her backside from her husband, for her to reach the landing. As Gladys stood and waited, she congratulated herself for her cleverness in using flattery as a weapon. It had worked so well, she vowed to remember it from then on.
This was her first encounter with class distinction, but Sally had explained it to her, saying that not having it in Old Nichol was the only good thing she could say about the place. Gladys knew she wasn’t going to like it any more than Sally did, but when the woman walked past her with her nose in the air, she managed a sweet smile while at the same time recalling her father’s words, Yes, ma’am, no, ma’am, kiss my arse, ma’am! and she realized that he was right.
__________
Once outside, all negative thoughts vanished, and taking note of all the buildings and scenery, she could hardly believe her eyes. Looking up and seeing a castle sitting on top of a nearby hill, she forgot where she was and exclaimed aloud, “Oh, look! It’s a real castle.”
A jolly looking man who was passing by stopped and looked where she was looking. Smiling, he said, “That it is, young lady, and she’s the oldest castle in all the country.” Realizing she had spoken out loud, Gladys’s face turned crimson and she just responded with a shy nod, so he tipped his hat and walked on. Gladys stared at the castle for a little longer. Promising herself she would climb up and have a closer look someday, she began to walk down the road.
The salt air was so invigorating, that she took too many deep breaths and, becoming quite lightheaded, she took hold of a lamppost to prevent falling down. Not that she would have minded falling down; the streets were so clean. Walking along, she took in all the sights and enjoyed looking at all manner of interesting things in the shop windows.
A shoemaker’s window displayed an assortment of shiny and soft leather shoes for both men and ladies. In a candle maker’s window, she not only saw a variety of different candles, but ornate gold and copper candle holders as well. There was a life sized, cleverly carved wooden pig, sitting amongst piles of sausages in a butcher’s shop window, and a milliner’s shop had a showy display of men’s beaver hats, some tall and flared at the top and others in styles less ostentatious.
They were nothing in comparison to the ladies’ bonnets. Flowers, feathers, ribbons, and lace, all used in abundance, glorified every hat, and Gladys tipped her head from one side to the other as she pictured herself walking down the street in such finery. The display in the store window next to the milliners was Gladys’s favourite. It had everything from china thimbles to china dolls, all arranged prettily on blue velvet. She couldn’t imagine covering such pretty plates with food when she noticed a setting of dinnerware that had a border of dainty purple violets on each plate.
She was so excited that she hadn’t realized how hungry she was until she smelled the tantalizing odours coming from a baker’s shop. It took less than a minute for her to find the place, but when she went in, there were so many tempting things to eat that she wanted to buy one of each. Finally, she settled on a large raisin scone, and then walked to the little town square just a block from her room and sat on a bench to enjoy it.
After savouring every morsel, she continued her walk until she came to a store that had the title, “Millie McIver—Dressmaking and Alterations” painted on the door. Since she was in need of a proper frock, she decided to go in, hoping she had enough money in the leather purse to buy a dress and enough left over for three weeks rent. A bell on the door made a pleasant sounding tinkle as she entered. As there was no sign of the owner, it gave her a chance to look around. A variety of stylish dresses hung on a rack, and some very attractive accessories were lying on shelves under the counter. As she looked closely at the dresses, she was dismayed at their grandness.
Certain she could never afford one of them, she was about to leave when a youthful voice called out, “I shall be there in a minute; please have a seat.”
Although the voice was that of a young person, the woman who came from a back room was quite elderly. Millie McIver was an immaculately dressed woman with an hourglass figure. Her hair was pinned up neatly but had an unnatural red hue and tell-tale roots of grey. She wore a good amount of rouge on her cheeks on top of a generous layer of powder. However, instead of appearing garish, the composition added youthfulness to her appearance. Gladys thought her very attractive, unaware that Queen Victoria had recently made a statement saying that make-up was only worn by prostitutes and actresses.
Millie welcomed Gladys with a cheery greeting and a smile. “I am sorry to keep you waiting, my dear.”
“Oh, I don’t mind, missus—er, I mean, mum. I was enjoying looking at all the pretty dresses.”
“Well, I am pleased that you approve of them. Now what can I do for you?”
Gladys’s answer sounded more like an apology than a request, “Well, you see, mum, I was hoping I could buy a new dress, er, a, not as fancy as these—maybe just a plain one if it’s not too costly.”
While Gladys was talking, Millie took notice of her attire. The girl wore no stockings. Her shoes were well worn and appeared too large for her feet, and although her coat was stylish, it was far more suitable for an older person and much too large for the girl. Millie’s ability to tell a person’s background by her attire, and her posture, left no doubt in her mind that this young girl had come from a poor neighbourhood. However, what intrigued her most about the child was her speech. It lacked refinement but showed fairly good articulation.
By the time Gladys had finished talking, Millie had made up her mind to befriend the girl and said, “Well now, I was just about to put my sewing aside and make a cup of tea. How would you like to join me? We can discuss a frock while we drink our tea.”
Gladys’s face lit up. “Oh, I shouldn’t say no to that, mum.”
Millie lived in the back of the store in one large room. She had curtained off a small space to use as a fitting room between her living area and the store. This allowed her some privacy. Although she only had one room, her furniture was arranged so cleverly that, with the help of a screen, a person could be sitting at the kitchen table and be unaware of the bedroom furnishings.
While they were drinking their tea, Millie asked the girl her name, and Gladys told her it was Gladys Tweedhope. Then she inquired if Gladys was new in town. The morning had been so exciting that Gladys couldn’t contain her enthusiasm and spit a few cookie crumbs from her mouth as she exclaimed, “Yes, mum—oh dear, I beg your pardon, mum; you see, I just arrived here last night, and I’ve been walking about this morning, and I even saw the castle!”
Millie laughed and said, “That’s Dover Castle, the oldest castle in all of
England.”
“Are you allowed to go up there?”
“Certainly, but you are not allowed to go in.”
“I guess the Queen doesn’t allow it.”
“Oh, no, my dear, the Queen doesn’t live there. There are just soldiers there from time to time.” Gladys’s lack of knowledge regarding the Royal family only added to Millie’s suspicions. Then, when Millie asked her where she was from and Gladys hesitated to answer, Millie decided to be frank. “Now, Gladys, I shan’t pry into your lineage, but I sense you have seen difficult times, and I understand your desire for privacy. I too have a past that I do not wish to recall, so shall we build our friendship on the present and not the past?”
Gladys, overwhelmed with the idea of making a friend so soon, jumped up, and hugged the dressmaker. Startled, but not displeased, Millie gently pushed her aside. She suspected the poor girl was a runaway, homeless, or perhaps both. Although she knew she might be making a mistake inviting a stranger into her home, there was something about this girl that she liked. She perceived there was a certain amount of both vulnerability and strength to Gladys’s character, and made an impulsive vow to help her.
As soon as they finished their tea, Millie rose, pulled Gladys to her feet, and insisted she take off her coat and bonnet. Gladys hesitated. The frock she wore under the coat resembled a child’s dress more than a young lady’s. It was clean—her mother had seen to that—but it just reached halfway between her knees and her ankles, and her underpinnings were not much more than rags.
Somehow, Millie seemed to understand the young girl’s dilemma and said, “Perhaps you would like to take off your coat in my little dressing room.” Gladys nodded thankfully. “Now just sit there for a minute, and I shall see what I have. You are so slim, my dear, that almost any dress I have should fit you. Yes, I think I have two that will do nicely.” Then she hurried into the shop and returned with two of the dresses Gladys had seen earlier. Holding them up, she said, “This is one that I made for Mrs Grey. It only took me three weeks, but by the time it was ready, she had gained ten pounds.” Then with a little laugh, she added. “Fortunately, she paid for the material.”
The frock was a lovely green colour, adorned with fine lace lappets, brown piping, and brown nodes—a dress like none other Gladys had ever seen. “Oh, I could never afford a dress like that, Mum.”
“Well, we shall see, we shall see, my dear. I am certain you can afford this one.” Millie said holding out the other dress. “I made this for a dear lady who, unfortunately, passed away before she had a chance to even try it on. I am sure it will fit you perfectly with a few tucks here and there.” It was a high-necked, practical brown frock complete with a white linen tucker. Although it wasn’t nearly as fancy as the first one, Gladys thought it grand.
Gladys took the plainest dress and went into the dressing room. Just as she had taken off her old dress, Millie pulled back the curtain to ask her if she wanted to try on both the frocks. Gladys’s face went red with embarrassment, but Millie didn’t appear to notice as she hung the fancy dress on a coat peg and left.
Millie had noticed the state of her underpinnings, but had managed to hide her shock. She wondered how long Gladys had been out on her own and what the poor child had done to earn enough money to buy a dress. One thing that she did know was that Gladys was not leaving her store until she was decently attired, especially since the girl intended to spend the day looking for employment.
Gladys said she would take the plain dress, and it didn’t take long for Millie to make the alterations. Millie insisted on adding a Holland pinafore, black woollen stockings, gloves that were the right size (Mrs Rutledge’s were far too small), two complete sets of lady’s underpinnings, and a blouse and skirt that she insisted were too small for her. Millie knew Gladys couldn’t afford it all, so she gave it to her at a third of the cost. What she didn’t know was that after Gladys paid for the clothes she only had enough left for two more night’s lodging and a few bowls of soup.
“I shall put aside the fancier frock until you have earned enough money to buy it,” Millie announced when Gladys was ready to leave. “Then we shall have to get you into a corset. It will do wonders for your posture.”
Gladys was feeling a little sick with worry by this time, but the thought of wearing a corset struck her as funny, and she giggled.
“Now what is so funny about that, young lady?” Millie asked.
Gladys didn’t dare tell her that she was recalling her mother’s words on the subject of corsets, “They’s ’arnesses, an’ only ’orses n’ oxes wears ’arnesses,” so she just smiled and said, “I was just thinking about how pleased my mother would have been to know that I’ve found such a wonderful friend.”
“What a lovely thing to say! I think your mother must have been a most loving and thoughtful woman to raise such a sweet young lady.”
“Oh, she was, mum, she really was. She was a governess you know, and when I earn enough money to pay for my training, I think I’ll be one too.”
Millie smiled and replied, “I think you would make a wonderful governess, Gladys.”
The dressmaker’s acceptance of her story was so unexpected it gave Gladys an unfamiliar feeling of confidence, so much so that she began to think that someday she could actually become a governess like Sally had been, before she came to Old Nichol. It seemed to Gladys that she was blessed with one miracle after another. Dover was the greatest place in the world to live; she had just made a friend who seemed as kind as Sally, and now she had a career to work toward. The dressmaker could see the joy in Gladys’s eyes. She knew she should warn her of the everyday drudgery in the life of a housemaid, but she couldn’t bring herself to spoil the little time she had left before she went to work.
As Gladys was leaving, Millie offered her some wise advice, “Don’t ask for a position as a scullery maid, my dear. Scullery maids are no better off than slaves and are often forced to work from morning until night without a day off. A housemaid works long hours as well, but can demand a day off now and again. And, Gladys, since we are going to be good friends, I would prefer you call me, Millie; ‘mum’ makes me feel so old.” After promising to visit whenever she could, Gladys hugged her new friend goodbye.
She soon learned that anyone applying for a menial job was obliged to knock on the back door of a residence because it was up to the housekeeper to do the hiring. She did have one offer, but when she couldn’t produce a reference, it was withdrawn. By evening she had knocked on countless doors to no avail and returned to the inn down-hearted. She sat down at a table, and when Laura Watt came to ask what she would like, she ordered a cup of tea and a bowl of soup. Laura noticed the bundle Gladys was carrying when she entered the inn, and when she took off her cloak, Laura also saw the new frock.
“I see you have a new frock, and it looks like a good one. How did you manage to find one that was already made?” Gladys gave her a brief account of her meeting with Millie and hoped that would suffice, but Laura wasn’t about to give up that easily. “You must have found a good job to be buying such a fine frock.”
Gladys confessed that she hadn’t found work, but since she had left her belongings in London, she needed a change of clothes. Then she added that since there was no work to be had, she would be leaving the next day.
“What sort of job were you looking for?” Laura asked.
“I was hoping to find work as a housemaid, mum.”
Noticing the roughness of Gladys’s hands, Laura nodded and said, “You look to be a good strong lass.”
“Oh yes, mum, and I don’t mind hard work.”
“Well, I’d best fetch your soup an’ tea.” With that, Laura hurried away.
Gladys had finished her soup and was enjoying her tea when the landlady surprised her by bringing a cup of her own to the table. “Do you mind if I sit with you?”
Gladys didn’t care for the woman, but
she smiled and nodded politely. There were a few men standing at the bar and one at another table, so Laura leaned towards her, and in a low voice, said, “You can see it’s not very busy these days, so we canna afford to pay muckle, but if you want to work here, you can.” Gladys was so pleased and excited that she could do no more than nod her head in agreement. “There’s a room in the attic where you can sleep, an’ we’ll give you three meals a day and your work togs. Do you ken I expect a good ten hours work from you each day?”
Gladys said she understood, then, trying not to sound too forthright, she asked, “May I ask what my wages will be, mum?”
“We canna pay more than ten pound a year.” When Gladys didn’t argue, Laura felt quite pleased with herself, aware that a chambermaid was usually paid twelve. “I’ll show you to your room and give you your work clothes.”
“But I already have a room.”
“Oh, lass, we canna allow our maids ta stay in the guest rooms. You can hae your money back along wi’ your first pay.
Gladys was dismayed to find that her room, although half the attic, had only a very tiny window and was so dark and ominous that it reminded her a little of Old Nichol. A lamp helped brighten the room and add a little warmth, but Laura cautioned her to use it sparingly because she would only be given a small amount of fuel every month. Gladys wondered if she would be allotted more in the winter but hadn’t the courage to ask. “You’ll begin in the morn at five,” Laura informed her as she left.
Gladys went back to Millie’s shop to tell her the good news, but her friend wasn’t as pleased for her as she thought she would be.
“I’ve heard that every girl who has worked there couldn’t work hard enough to satisfy that woman and was let go. Oh, I do wish I could afford to keep you here as an apprentice, but the landlord wouldn’t hear of it.”
“Don’t you worry, Millie; I’m not afraid of hard work, and as long as I can visit you now and then, I’ll be just fine. Er, a, you wouldn’t have an extra candle or two that I could borrow until I can find where to buy some, would you?” Then she told Millie how dark the attic was and how she had to be careful not to use too much lamp fuel, which caused the seamstress to be even more upset. She found two candles complete with holders then said, “Goodnight,” as Gladys returned to the inn.