A Woman of Independent Means

by Elizabeth Forsythe Hailey

  Fondly,

  Bess

  June 25, 1920

  Woodstock

  Dearest Totsie,

  Welcome home!

  I am anxious to hear all about your trip. Why don’t you meet me in Boston for the July 4 weekend and we can catch up on each other’s lives?

  I know Dwight is so happy to be home again I would not presume to include him in the invitation, but I do hope you can get away for the weekend. On the chance that you can, I am reserving a room in your name at the Ritz.

  If you cannot come, just send me a note at the hotel. Do not bother trying to reach me here. But please do not disappoint me. I long to see you.

  Je t’embrasse,

  Bess

  June 25, 1920

  Woodstock

  Hotel Ritz

  Boston, Massachusetts

  Dear Sirs:

  I would like to reserve three single rooms for the nights of July 3-5, two adjoining, and the third at a distance from the other two, possibly even on another floor.

  The adjoining bedrooms are to be booked in the names of Mrs. Elizabeth Steed and Mrs. Dwight Davis and the third room is in the name of Mr. Arthur Fineman.

  I’m enclosing a deposit to insure that the rooms will be held for our arrival.

  Thank you in advance for your prompt attention to this request.

  Sincerely,

  Elizabeth Steed

  July 4, 1920

  Boston, Massachusetts

  Dear Lydia,

  I am so grateful to you for making it possible for me to get away for the weekend. My friend Totsie was already unpacking in her room, which adjoins mine, when I arrived.

  We were having tea downstairs when I suddenly caught sight of my friend and financial advisor from Dallas, Arthur Fineman, who travels to Boston frequently on business. He was astonished to learn that all three of us were staying at the same hotel. However, he soon recovered his aplomb and invited us to join him for dinner and the theater.

  We got along famously, disproving the old adage that “three’s a crowd.” And traveling in a trio had advantages for all of us: Totsie’s presence spared Arthur and me any awkward moments at finding ourselves alone together in a strange city, and Arthur’s presence enabled Totsie and me to travel freely about the city without fear for our physical safety.

  We are all having such a good time we have decided to extend our trip by two days, so I will be returning on July 8 instead of July 6 as originally planned. I know Manning is anxious to get back to Texas but I trust he will not mind delaying his trip until my return. I am sure he would not like the thought of leaving you there alone with the children any more than I would.

  Happy Independence Day!

  Love,

  Bess

  July 6, 1920

  Boston

  Dearest Totsie,

  You should just be getting home by now. I wish you could have stayed with us, but I can understand Dwight’s desire to have you at his side. I will never stop missing Rob but now that I no longer have to answer to anyone for my actions, I do not think I would ever consider marriage again.

  I finally confessed to Arthur that I had invited you for the weekend and you had accepted in complete innocence, knowing nothing of the circumstances. He said he had guessed it as soon as he saw us in adjoining rooms but decided to say nothing. I am continually amazed at his restraint and good manners; I just hope I can continue to count on them in your absence.

  Give the baby a hug for me and thank Dwight for lending me your presence for three days.

  Je t’embrasse,

  Bess

  July 8, 1920

  en route from Boston

  to Woodstock

  My dear Arthur,

  All last night as I listened to you voice sentiments that went straight to my heart, I longed for pen and paper to give shape to the thoughts that were crowding my mind. I fervently hope nothing I write now will make you regret a single word you uttered.

  I met my late husband when we were children. We reached adulthood together and continued to grow even after we were married. We were like two explorers taking turns in the lead as we made our way across uncharted country. But you and I have both made this trip before. We each think we know the way and would find it difficult to allow the other the lead.

  I am just beginning to learn how to live alone as an adult. Can we not continue as we are? A man and a woman leading separate lives except for the moments they choose to share? There will always be times I would rather share with you than with anyone else in the world, dearest Arthur—please do not deprive me of the privilege of choosing to share them by demanding my constant presence as proof of my affection for you.

  I will not breathe easily until I hear from you and you assure me that what we had has not been lost by what you hoped to gain.

  Love always,

  Bess

  July 20, 1920

  Woodstock

  Dearest Totsie,

  Your guess proved completely accurate. How strange that Arthur’s intentions were so clear to you from the start. In no way did I anticipate a proposal of marriage. If so, I would have had time to ponder all my reasons for saying no. As it happened, I said it first, then spent the trip back to the farm trying to understand why.

  I was terrified of losing Arthur as a friend when I refused him as a husband, but the letter I received from him today was so warm and understanding I think our relationship may even profit from the experience. I suppose whenever a single man and woman start spending time together, there comes a point at which marriage must be discussed. What I had not realized before were all the possibilities inherent in the relationship once the subject of marriage was closed. I am sure Arthur felt he owed me a proposal out of respect—but the tone of his letter indicates he was rather relieved when I refused.

  How many unhappy marriages must result from that unholy sense of obligation that leads a man to propose and a woman to accept when both would be much happier continuing as they were. But fortunately society can impose its conventions only on the meek, and, like any bully, can be surprisingly docile when someone politely but firmly refuses to submit.

  I hope Dwight did not feel you had in any way deceived him when he learned of Arthur’s presence in Boston. It was terribly important to me that you be there and I could not run the risk of having you refuse by informing you of all the circumstances in advance. I pray I have not imposed on our friendship to the detriment of your marriage. How complicated life can become when loyalties intertwine. Sometimes I feel we are all marionettes and each string is controlled by a different master. I wonder if men feel as divided as women by conflicting obligations to husband, to parents, to children, to friends, and—the obligation too often sacrificed in the hope of effecting a momentary truce among the others—to one’s self.

  I cannot bear to end this letter because it means telling you good-bye for awhile. Is there any chance you could bring the baby here for a visit? My brother-in-law left today for Texas, so for the rest of the summer we will be a community of women and children. How I would love you to be part of it—for as long as you could stay.

  Je t’embrasse,

  Bess

  July 25, 1920

  Woodstock

  Dear Annie,

  I am shocked you have allowed Hans to move back in the house, though I frankly feared this would happen in my absence. I trust you have considered all the consequences of this decision and will regret none of them. If you had informed me of your intentions, I would have advised you to set down in writing certain conditions governing Hans’ right to cohabit with you. It is still not too late to formulate some written agreement regarding your mutual rights and obligations. The longer these boundaries are left undefined, the greater the chance of future conflict between you.

  I trust that your decision to enter nursing school in the fall has not been affected by the events of this summer. You cannot expect Hans to accord you any more respect than you accord yourse
lf. If you do not keep your goals steadfastly in front of you, do not depend on anyone else to remind you of what they were. As long as you have ambitions of your own, your husband will never again be your judge, only your partner as you are his.

  I hope I do not sound too harsh, but I have your happiness at heart. Remember, marriage is a privilege both husband and wife must earn—not a convenience to be enjoyed by one member at the expense of the other.

  Give Hans my best wishes. If you are happy he is there, then so am I.

  Affectionately,

  Bess

  August 15, 1920

  Woodstock

  Miss Abigail Saunders

  Riverview Convalescent Home

  Syracuse, New York

  Dear Miss Saunders,

  I was deeply saddened to learn of the death of my cousin, Josephine Farrow—and shocked to discover that she was only sixty-four. She seemed so much older. She slipped into senility with no visible show of resistance, as if grateful that life could no longer make demands upon her.

  I have decided to relinquish my right to the four-poster bed in which she died. It represents the only physical claim she made on life, and I would like to leave it with you as a memorial to her. Would it be possible to affix to the headboard a small brass plaque engraved with her name?

  I would be very happy to provide a few other pieces of furniture taken from her family home to create a “Josephine Farrow Memorial Room.” This could establish a fortuitous precedent for your other residents, resulting ultimately in a welcome spirit of individuality, with each room reflecting the style and background of a former occupant.

  I do not intend to criticize your methods, but I was struck by the unrelieved sameness of everything I encountered on my last visit: food, furnishings, and, sadly, even faces. Many of your residents might welcome the thought that their room would live after them and that their names at least would be remembered.

  Since my cousin died on the tenth of the month, I would appreciate receiving from you the balance of the August payment, which I sent in advance, minus the cost, of course, of any funeral expenses not covered by my initial deposit for “death dues.”

  Sincerely,

  Bess Alcott Steed

  August 25, 1920

  Woodstock

  Dear Arthur,

  I have not written sooner because I was not sure what tone my letter should take. I can no longer write as I did before, as a friend seeking advice and recounting anecdotes. Since Boston, an intimacy exists between us even in our silence—an intimacy I treasure and trust I have not betrayed by rejecting its marital translation. Please do not think it vain of me to want to continue just as I am now, like one of the maidens on the Greek urn so admired by Keats, suspended for eternity in the moment of pursuit.

  My friend Totsie is here with me. The weekend we shared in Boston may prove to be a turning point in her life. After those few days of freedom with us, she found marriage an impossibly confining relationship. As far as her husband is concerned, all she is doing now is spending a few weeks in the country with her old school friend, but she is actually restructuring her life.

  Her plan is to take an apartment in Boston when we leave here after Labor Day. She realizes now how much she has missed by living in the country for the past decade. Fortunately she has had her own income since college but her husband assumed the responsibility for investing it when they married. I have urged her to obtain from him all information relevant to her portfolio before informing him of her decision to establish a separate residence. Once she has the portfolio in hand, I think she would benefit greatly from your advice and support. I trust you will not object if I encourage her to write to you.

  By the way, I see in the Wall Street Journal that a new company has been formed in Texas to explore the market for natural gas. I foresee an unlimited future for any product that is a source of energy. Can I afford to be part of this venture? Please give careful scrutiny to my portfolio in terms of growth potential. I own nothing I could not be persuaded to sell.

  Love always,

  Bess

  September 1, 1920

  Woodstock

  Dear Annie,

  Enclosed is a check covering tuition for the fall semester of nursing school. I hope it is not too late for your application to be processed.

  I regret that you did not inform me sooner of your decision to lend your savings to Hans. I admire his ambition in wanting his own business, and you are right in remembering that I made a sizable loan to my husband to establish his position in the business community. However, I did not divert funds already earmarked for my own use.

  An act as unselfish as yours carries within it the seeds of future unhappiness. To me the only viable transactions are ones in which both parties have something to gain. Even though you were ostensibly only delaying your entry into nursing school until Hans got started in business, there is no way of predicting what the future will hold for any of us. In almost every case, if I had delayed doing what I wanted to do, I would never have done it at all.

  It is haying time in New England—hard work for the farmers but a holiday for the children. They have been spending their days at a nearby farm—riding the haywagon from the field into the barn, then jumping up and down on the hay after it is stored in the loft. This is an activity the farmers encourage. The more the hay is trampled, the more of it can be stored in the loft. It takes a huge supply to keep the cattle fed during the long New England winter.

  We will be arriving home next week. Since your classes do not begin until next month, I would be grateful if you could devote this time to preparing our new home for our arrival. The keys can be obtained at the real estate office.

  Perhaps you could begin this weekend while Hans is available to help with the heavy chores. I am having all the furniture we left stored in St. Louis shipped to our new address. I have asked the transport company to notify you of its arrival date. Enclosed (along with the check for your tuition) is a rough scheme I made to show where everything should go. Please direct the movers accordingly.

  My sister-in-law and her daughter will be traveling with us and will probably spend the night in Dallas before going on to Denton. So please be sure the guest room is in order.

  This is undoubtedly the last time I will ever call upon you for assistance of a domestic nature—though I may require your services as a nurse. For me Labor Day always marks the beginning of a new year and this year we both have cause for celebration: a new home for me, a new career for you.

  Happy New Year, dearest Annie.

  Love,

  Bess

  September 25, 1920

  Dallas

  Dearest Totsie,

  We are now settled in our lovely new home and once again I cherish the illusion that I am the “master of my fate.”

  Your letter confirming my wisdom in urging you to move to Boston and establish a separate residence was indeed welcome. An outsider often finds it easier than the people involved to judge a situation objectively. The success of your marriage clearly depended on your ability to accommodate yourself to your husband’s wishes without any thought for your own. I was hesitant to say anything because I thought you were happy, but when you confessed to me at the farm how estranged you and Dwight had become emotionally, then physical separation seemed to be the inevitable next step.

  In the weeks to come Dwight will be forced to define the terms on which he wants the marriage to continue, and for the first time since he proposed (and I remember the spring that happened—none of us were in any mood for defining terms then), you will be in a position either to accept or reject them. So you must not feel that you have left your husband—at least not yet. So far all you have done is restore the possibility of choice between you.

  The apartment sounds charming—and how wonderful to be located within walking distance of so many places. It must have given you an enormous sense of freedom to leave your automobile behind with your home and husband.

 
; Though I know you are happy devoting all your time to the baby, do not allow him to become your whole life. The potential for tyranny exists in the most angelic infant. They are quick to take advantage of any moment when you are not otherwise occupied and unless you firmly assert your right to time of your own, they can become your total occupation.

  You would be well-advised to find some young girl willing to help with the baby in return for room and board. In a city like Boston, there are undoubtedly any number of young girls from large Catholic families whose experience in caring for younger brothers and sisters is equaled by a desire to move away from home and start a life of their own.

  Our homecoming was quite gala. We did not expect anyone to meet our train, but to our surprise Manning was waiting at the station, and to our even greater surprise Arthur was standing beside him. The two men had never met and it was only when we began waving from the window of our compartment that they realized they were meeting the same party of travelers. Arthur seemed a little overwhelmed to encounter so much family at one time but he was gentle and gracious as always and Lydia was quite charmed by his gallantry.

  We are now seeing each other regularly. I insist on occasionally assuming the responsibility for our entertainment, though with a man like Arthur this requires complicated advance planning. Last week I invited him to be my guest for dinner at the Dallas Country Club. He seemed very hesitant to accept, and I was afraid I had offended him by asking him to accompany me to a club where he would not be admitted on his own. I explained I only chose the country club because I knew he would never allow me to pay the bill in a public place but if it made him uncomfortable I would find other means of entertaining him. He said it was not the place that made him uncomfortable but the idea of my assuming the expense of the evening.

  Once he offered that explanation, I promptly went ahead with the reservations, and we had a delightful dinner. I was somewhat apprehensive that country club cuisine might not measure up to his high standards, since most of the members are less concerned with what they eat than with who sees them eat it. However he pronounced the “sole bonne femme” superlative and I thoroughly enjoyed my porterhouse.