by Beth Bennett
“Why Olivia, you look agog. What’s wrong? Has the cat got your tongue?” The group laughed at Lucy’s cleverness. Jimmy turned and began to answer questions as the other men talked of horse racing. Olivia couldn’t eat another bite. Her stomach felt like it was full of rocks.
Jimmy has always had a talent with horses. She was glad he had found such a wonderful position. What had happened to him during the war? Did he know his family had given him up for dead? Why hadn’t he contacted them? Or her? The barrage of questions flowed through her mind as she watched him interact with the others. They were polite and respectful but there was no question that Jimmy was not seen as one of their rank. It was obvious she wasn’t either. She endured the rest of the picnic close by Mrs. Holland’s side, and was filled with relief when it was time to go.
“You seem rather quiet, Olivia. Did you have a good time?” Hettie made sure Olivia was covered by her umbrella as they rode home.
“It was a grand picnic. Just grand.”
“What did you think of the gentlemen? Weren’t they a handsome group?
Olivia nodded. “I’ve got a question.”
“Ask away.”
“Where are Mr. Whitlow’s horses kept?”
“Mr. Whitlow? Oh, you mean James?”
“No, I mean his father. I was just wondering where his horses were kept?”
“That’s an odd question. Why do you want to know?”
Olivia bit her lip and proceeded with great caution. “Oh, no reason, really. I just like horses. I wouldn’t mind seeing some of those fancy race horses your Mr. Whitlow was talking about. You know, I grew up on a farm. I was around animals all the time.”
“Oh, well, the stables are near the park in Westchester County. It’s not very far from where we were today. I am sure James would be glad to take you there if you’d like. I’ve never been myself. It might be a fun outing now that I think about it.”
Olivia did not want anyone to know about Jimmy. She couldn’t bear to share such personal information and she certainly had no desire to give Lucy Spear more reasons for looking down her nose. Olivia wanted to talk to him, alone. How she would manage that, she couldn’t imagine.
Chapter 13
“Mother, you have simply got to make her go.” The two were downstairs in the sitting room when Hettie, in frustration, had finally appealed to Anna Daniels. “She needs to go to Stewart’s department store and get some clothes! I don’t mind loaning mine, in fact, Olivia can have that purple, but she owns three dresses! Three dresses, that’s all. And one of them has a big patch in the sleeve. I can’t imagine that Jackson meant for her to live like a hermit and do nothing all day but study and slave away for that old professor of his. I want to take her to Stewart’s Department Store and you have to force her to go.”
Anna came to sit beside Hettie at the dining room table. “Olivia is to be admired for her pluck. Think how you would feel if you didn’t have a penny to your name and had to accept help from someone else. You were lucky you got her to go to the park. I doubt if she would even accept the gift of your purple dress. I can’t force her to go. Even Harriet said she couldn’t talk her into accepting a small wardrobe.”
“She’ll never get out and see New York, this way. I want her to feel comfortable. There are so many things to do.” Hettie tapped her chin. I shall have to think of a plan.
Several days later, Hettie knocked on the door of Olivia’s room. “Come in.” Olivia was curled in her favorite spot upon the window seat, her nose, as usual, stuck in a book.
“The professor says you are doing fabulously well.”
Olivia closed the book and sat up. “Good, I want to learn as much as I can, as fast as I can.”
Hettie crossed to sit in the chair beside the bed. “Well, you are certainly doing that. I came up here to tell you that I am having a dinner party in three weeks. All my friends will be in attendance. It’s not an official society or engagement dinner, just a group of friends my age. It will be held at the Astor House Hotel on 5th Ave. Just the most beautiful place you ever saw Olivia. I want you to go.”
A dark cloud crossed Olivia’s face. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea. I don’t want to embarrass you, much less myself. Besides, I don’t have anything to wear and no money to buy such fancy stuffs as you New Yorkers have. I appreciate everything, but I don’t feel right taking your things from you. I’m happy to stay home. You go and tell me all about it.”
Hettie went to gaze out the window. “Jackson has sent money.”
“I don’t doubt that, none…I mean…any, but that’s his money. I’ll be just fine stayin right where I am.”
“No, no, it’s not his money. He said the railroad sold your apple crop and the money is due to you. You have…five hundred dollars all your own. You may do anything you like with it. A nice dress or two will only cost a fraction of that. Please Olivia, let me take you to the dress makers tomorrow.”
She sat up at this news. “Are you sure? I never heard of a mountain apple crop making five hundred dollars for one season before.”
“Well, he also sold some things off from the farm. I’m sure in normal circumstances the B & O would have kept the money since they own the farm, but because you are Jackson’s ward, he diverted the money to you. It’s only fair. I think you should take it.”
“Five hundred dollars,” she whispered. “Do you think Mrs. Holland would go with us tomorrow? I might find myself wanting to see a few of the sights too.”
Hettie jumped up and down and clapped her hands. “I know she will, I know so! We shall make a day of it. I’ll go tell Mother and send a note over to Mrs. Holland’s. We’ll leave first thing in the morning.”
“I’d rather go after the professor and I are finished. How about after lunch?”
“Afternoon it is!”
Hettie rushed to inform her mother that she had just given Olivia five hundred dollars.
“What?”
“Yes, Mother, I had to lie to her. I told her it was from the proceeds of her farm and that Jackson had sent it. It was the only way I could get her to come out of her room. Besides, Jackson owes it to her.”
Mrs. Daniels rubbed her temples. “Well, I do suppose I can’t think of anyone who deserves it more. Jackson and his company did put the girl in this situation and she is determined not to take anything from us. I was beginning to think she might dry up and blow away with all that school work she’s been doing. Very well. We shall open a bank account for her tomorrow. Maybe this will encourage her to step out a little more. There is more to an education than just books.”
Mrs. Holland arrived just after lunch for the appointed excursion. Olivia and Harriet exchanged hugs. “You won’t believe it, Mrs. Holland. I got me, I mean, I received five hundred dollars from my farm! Now I can take care of myself.”
Mrs. Holland smiled and patted her hand. “You deserved every penny. No one ever worked harder than you have, my dear.”
“I’m going to send some of it to Aunt Bessie. I know it will help out. Do you know how to get money somewhere other than where you are?”
Anna Daniels was putting on her wrap. “Oh yes, Olivia, we are going to open you an account at the bank. They can wire the money and it will be in your Aunt’s hands within a day.”
“Who would have ever thought,” Olivia exclaimed.
The ladies all clambered into the Daniels’ family carriage. It was a lovely black cab with a bit of ornate gold leaf on the doors and around the top. They passed building after building, Mrs. Holland knew them all. “And that, my dear, is the famous Trinity Church. Our revolutionary forefathers worshipped there. It is quite stunning.” The church spire towered over them and Olivia had to crane her neck to try and see the top.
“My glory,” she exclaimed.
The carriage finally pulled up in front of a large brick building, several stories tall. Hettie was filled with excitement. “Here we are, Olivia. This is the Marble Palace otherwise known as Stewart’s departme
nt store. Everyone who is anyone shops here. It is simply the best New York has to offer.” Turning to Mrs. Daniels, Hettie began her plea. “Mother, I’ve simply got to have a new dress for the party next week. It just won’t do to be seen in the same thing I’ve worn before.”
“Hettie, this is just a dinner.”
“That’s true, but still, pleeease.”
Mrs. Daniels let out a big sigh. Olivia knew she was going to acquiesce. From what Olivia had seen, Hettie generally got what she wanted.
“All right, one dress, and only one. You’ve a closet full as it is.”
As they departed the carriage, Olivia looked up at the marble building many stories tall. Its Italianate design was unlike anything she had ever seen. She had been expecting a small dress maker’s shop. This was anything but. Plate glass windows lined the street level displaying the latest women’s fashions. Her head was spinning as Hettie grabbed her by the hand and pulled her through the fancy front doors. Level after level of balconies soared up to the top of the ceiling. Shoppers pressed up to the counters and milled about like the glittering of a kaleidoscope.
“The ladies dress section is on the second floor, Olivia.” Hettie led the way as Olivia followed in wide-eyes awe. Mrs. Daniels and Mrs. Holland brought up the rear. Miss Everly, the salesgirl, seemed to be a personal friend of the family.
“Good-day, ladies. Welcome to Stewart’s.”
“Oh, Miss Everly, we are here to purchase dresses for my friend, Olivia Overton.” Hettie was practically singing. “And I need to choose a dress for an upcoming dinner party.”
Mrs. Daniels quickly interjected. “It’s only a small get together. We don’t need anything elaborate.” Hettie huffed but knew enough not to directly contradict her mother.
Fine dresses of silk and satin, evening gowns and day dresses, riding habits and ball costumes were on display. It seemed there was a different dress for any and every occasion. Olivia was directed to the fitting room.
Miss Everly exuded self-confident efficiency. “First, my dear, let us get your foundation wear. Olivia was presented with corsets, bloomers, chemises, slips, petticoats and bustles.
“Don’t tie that corset so tight,” Olivia complained.
“The tighter the better.”
“Not if you don’t want me to faint right here in the store.”
Miss Everly dutifully loosened the corset and Olivia took a deep breath. Hettie squealed in delight as Olivia paraded dress after dress.
Mrs. Daniels suggested the deep green. “The color makes your eyes shine like emeralds,” she said. Ornamented with pink roses, Hettie insisted on making a gift of matching fabric roses for Olivia’s hair.
Olivia tried to demur, but Hettie was insistent. “Friends can occasionally buy a gift for one another.”
“Only if you let me buy one for you then,” Olivia protested.
“Oh, all right. I need some gloves to go with my dress. You can buy those.” Olivia happily agreed. Despite Hettie’s groans, Olivia purchased only four dresses. Two for every day, one for church and one for parties.
“Good heavens, you’re got five hundred dollars! These dresses won’t even come to twenty-five.”
“Waste not, want not. Four is plenty,” Olivia quoted.
Mrs. Holland smiled and nodded her head in approval. “Pay attention, Hettie. You could learn a thing or two from our lovely Virginia apple farmer.”
Hettie had chosen an evening dress in red and burgundy trimmed in wide ivory lace. A banner of big red bows crossed the bodice and made their way completely down the skirt to end at the train. Alterations would be finish by the next day and the dresses delivered by messenger.
“Now, I’d like to send a hundred dollars home. Where is the bank?” Mrs. Daniels accompanied Olivia to the bank manager’s office while Mrs. Holland and Hettie waited inside the carriage.
On the ride home, Olivia hung out the window and took in the scenes of the city. She was astounded at the array of people and noise. New York was such a strange place. The greatest wealth imaginable sat right next to poverty stricken tenements. Dapper dandies dressed to the nines strolled by beggars in the street. As the carriage turned a corner, Olivia was shocked to see an old clapboard farmhouse. It looked so odd and out of place.
“Look, Mrs. Holland. It looks like a farm from home, right here in the middle of the city.”
Mrs. Holland leaned over to gaze along the point of Olivia’s finger. “Oh yes, New York is full of contradictions. We’re in a section of the city William Astor hasn’t had a chance to get his hands on. That house has probably been here since the revolution, my dear. When all of Manhattan was nothing more than a boggy field.
“Let’s stop, please, do stop the carriage. I’d like to say hello.”
Mrs. Daniels raised an eyebrow and Hettie looked perfectly mortified. Ignoring them both, Mrs. Holland tapped her cane on the carriage roof and they came to a stop. Olivia pushed open the door, kicked out the carriage steps and hurried down. She stepped over a mud hole and hopped onto the porch of the dilapidated house. Two little goats lay resting in the sun. She reached down and petted one. A wizened old lady dressed in threadbare skirt and black shawl greeted her from the front door. She spoke in words Olivia did not understand.
Olivia smiled, then replied very slowly. “I… like… your… goat.” She rubbed the little fellow’s head. He shifted in the afternoon sun. Deciding to try again, she spoke a little louder. “I…like…your…goat.” Quizzically, the woman looked from Olivia, then back to the goat. It was a saggy little house and poverty blanketed the wood frame like an oppressive heat. Olivia tried to explain. “I had a farm.”
The lady wiped her hands on a raggedy towel and broke out in a broad smile. “Sì , sì, questo è il mio capra.”
Olivia returned the smile. They weren’t going to be able to have much of a conversation. “I guess I better be going.” Back over the mud hole she went and into the carriage. She looked out the window and waved. “Good-bye.”
“Arrivederci,” the lady responded.
Mrs. Holland leaned over. “She’s one of thousands of immigrants pouring into New York. They come with nothing and have to scratch out a living the best way they can.”
Even though Olivia didn’t understand a word the lady said, the empathy she felt was overwhelming. She looked down at her blue plaid dress that had once seemed so plain and ugly. Next to the poverty this lady had to endure, it looked like a ball gown. It all depends on whose eyes you’re looking through, I guess. Contemplating her new found perspective, she lurched to the side as the carriage turned toward home.
The movement of a bright bit of color caught her eye. In a narrow alleyway to the right, a luxurious peacock feather sat atop a bright red hat. The wearer of the hat was draped luridly across a rather disheveled looking man. The woman turned her head and laughed. Lucy Spear! Olivia blinked her eyes. It couldn’t be. When she looked again, the woman had turned away and the carriage had pulled out of sight.
Chapter 14
Olivia sat at a small writing table helping Hettie fill out invitations. Holding the last one in her hand, she proofread it: “Miss Hettie Daniels compliments to Miss Lucy Spear, and will feel much pleasure in her company to dinner on Thursday, next, the Astoria Hotel, at 6 o’clock. An early reply will oblige.” Blotting the ink, she waved the invitation in the air, helping it to dry. Remembering the face she’d seen in the alleyway, Olivia shook her head. It simply wasn’t possible.
The invitations were sent to twenty-one people. In Olivia’s mind, that was a huge party but Hettie insisted it was only a tiny gathering. Perhaps I will be all right in a party like that. Lucy will surely be there though. Olivia was not afraid of Lucy, she simply found her tiresome. Thursday quickly arrived and Olivia took extra care with her appearance. Liza had done her hair in a complicated upsweep and pinned the roses amongst her curls. Hettie tried to talk Olivia into cutting her bangs but she refused.
“I don’t care what the fashion
is in New York. Aunt Bessie always said, ‘a woman’s hair is her glory.’ I want mine long.”
Hettie rolled her eyes but in the end, agreed with the decision. “Well, you are absolutely beautiful.”
The green crepe de chine framed her small shoulders and the roses rested around the neckline. Ever practical, she had chosen a gown without a train thinking how filthy it would become, dragging along the ground. Mrs. Daniels and several other mothers and fathers would be attending as chaperones. Even Mrs. Holland was coming.
Olivia had pictured a fancy but small hotel with a dining room about the size of the American Hotel in Staunton. She was wrong. The sweeping grandeur of the Astoria Hotel boggled the imagination. Many stories tall, the front entrance was covered by an elaborate portico, adorned with ornate cast iron. Corinthian columns ran along the side of the building and leaf and flower design covered everything. Olivia was sure there was nothing like it anywhere else in all the world. She gazed at the glittering chandeliers inside. Music and conversation spilled out every time someone opened the doors.
A coterie of parents were gathering near the entrance and Mrs. Daniels went to join them. One after another, the dinner guests alighted from their fancy rigs. Hettie was busy greeting everyone, and Olivia soon found herself standing alone. She smoothed her dress and watched as Hettie’s, fiancé, James Whitlow arrived, replete in New York splendor. He was welcomed by the gathering crowd out front.
Absent-mindedly humming to herself, Olivia noticed the Whitlow’s driver dismount. He wore the suit of a New York groomsman. Forest green with bright brass buttons. His black top hat and fancy gloves could not disguise his face. It was Jimmy! Quickly she glanced around. She could not miss this opportunity. Clearing her throat, she stepped toward the carriage. Jimmy was busy folding up the carriage steps but he looked up and tipped his hat when she appeared. “How do you do, miss.” He stood and straightened his jacket. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name but I know I saw you at Jerome Park.” He looked a bit taken aback when she stepped even closer.