A Proper Pursuit (19 page)

“Because they have no place to go. And if they did leave their husbands, who would care for their children while they worked? One of the needs that Miss Addams hopes to address is low-cost housing and day care for the children of working mothers.”

It occurred to me that perhaps my mother had wanted to take me with her when she left home, but she’d had no place to live and no one to take care of me. I wished I could find her and ask her about it, but how could I find her if no one would talk about her?

Chapter

12

G
randmother and I returned home from our day at the settlement house to find Aunt Agnes sitting at our dining room table, drinking tea with Matt and Birdie.

“Sit down and join us, Florence,” Aunt Matt commanded. “You never have time to visit with your own family anymore. You sit too, Violet.”

“I believe I will,” Grandmother said with a sigh. I could tell how weary she was by the way she lowered herself onto her chair. I sat down beside her as Aunt Birdie fetched each of us a clean teacup. It was the first time all four sisters and I had been together since I had arrived in Chicago nearly two weeks ago.

“I do hope you didn’t wear Violet out this morning,” Aunt Agnes said. “She has an important party to attend tomorrow night.”

“There’s no such thing as an
important
party, Agnes,” Grandmother said.

“There certainly is! Isn’t her future important to you? Marriage occupies the biggest portion of every woman’s future.”

“Who says?” Matt asked. No one answered her.

“Violet should have been making social calls with me this afternoon instead of running all around those appalling neighborhoods you visit.” Aunt Agnes gestured broadly when she spoke, as if conscious of her many rings. She had elegant hands, in spite of the wrinkles, and her jewels glittered in the afternoon sunlight.

“Violet helped me work today. Didn’t you, dear?” Grandmother said, patting my shoulder. I nodded lamely, feeling like a hypocrite. I knew how little I actually had accomplished. My tea was turning cold but I was afraid to reach for the cup, afraid that Aunt Agnes would notice my stained fingers.

“I could have used an extra pair of hands down at the Suffrage Association,” Aunt Matt said. “The forty-fifth anniversary of the first Women’s Rights Convention is coming up next month, and we need to get the information mailed out to our members. That convention has the potential to
greatly
improve Violet’s future—and the future of
all
women.”

“Nonsense!” Aunt Agnes said with a wave. “I happen to know that several very important young men are interested in our Violet. Marriage to one of them will make her future secure.”

“Humph!” Aunt Matt grunted. “Her marriage is going to do more for
you
than it ever will for her—poor thing.”

I wondered if Aunt Matt was right. Did I really want to be used as a prize to help increase my aunt’s social standing? Meanwhile, I was supposed to be searching for my mother. That was the reason I had come to Chicago in the first place, yet I was no closer to my goal than the day I’d left Lockport.

“Poor thing indeed,” Agnes sniffed. “She looks very peaked, Florence. I do hope she isn’t getting ill. Heaven knows what sorts of diseases she might catch in that wretched neighborhood.”

“She isn’t ill,” Grandmother said calmly. “She got up early this morning to go with me—that’s all.”

“And see how tired she looks? I do hope those bags beneath her eyes go away by tomorrow night.”

“Oh, I do too,” Aunt Matt added. “Get some rest, Violet. Otherwise you might fall asleep from boredom while discussing Mrs. Pullman’s new spring hat.”

“Don’t be mean-spirited, Matilda. But speaking of fashion, Violet, I brought your new gown with me. Mrs. Riggs finished it. Be a dear and go try it on, will you? So I can see it? The Kents only invited young people to the party tomorrow night, so I won’t be there to see you.”

“Yes, I’d be happy to. Where is the dress, Aunt Agnes?”

“I believe Birdie hung it in your wardrobe.”

I hurried upstairs, grateful to flee their discussion. But I wondered how the gown would look on top of the guilt overcoat I still wore. Irina’s family probably could eat for a month on the money Agnes had spent. And while Mrs. Riggs had been sewing my new ivory brocade gown, frail eight-year-old girls had been forced to stitch men’s trousers in dreary sweatshops for seven cents a dozen. How could I possibly enjoy myself in that dress, knowing the true cost?

Nevertheless, I slipped the gown over my head. The brocade felt like cool water against my skin. It swished magnificently when I walked. I never wanted to take it off.

“Lovely!” Agnes applauded when I descended the stairs. “You look beautiful, darling!”

“Oh, how nice,” Aunt Birdie said.

“It’s quite … revealing, isn’t it?” Grandmother asked. She spread her hands across her own chest, forgetting that her dress buttoned clear to her neck. “What in the world will her father say?”

“Why don’t you just put the poor girl on the auction block and sell her to the highest bidder?” Matt asked before huffing out to the kitchen with the empty teapot.

“Thank you for modeling it for me, dear,” Agnes said, “but I’m afraid I have to run along now.What time shall I have my driver pick you up tomorrow night?”

“Um … that won’t be necessary, Aunt Agnes. Nelson Kent has offered to escort me.”

“Oh, Violet! You didn’t accept his offer? The point of the party was to give you another opportunity to play the field.”

“Yes, Violet. Why settle for
rich
when there might be someone even
richer
?” Aunt Matt asked as she returned for the remaining teacups.

“There’s no call for sarcasm, Mattie,” Grandmother said. “Violet knows there is more to life than material riches. Don’t you, dear?”

“There’s love,” Birdie said in her dreamy voice.

“I’m disappointed that you accepted Nelson Kent’s offer so soon,” Agnes said. Her ability to ignore all of her sisters and stick to the subject impressed me.

“I’m sorry, Aunt Agnes. Nelson caught me off guard, and I agreed to let him escort me before I had a chance to think it through.”

“Apology accepted. Besides, he would be an excellent match. You could do much worse. And you are getting up in years …”

“Fiddlesticks,” Grandmother said. “Violet is only twenty.”

“That means she’ll soon be twenty-one, and you know what
that
means.” Agnes’ voice dropped to a whisper. “You wouldn’t want her to become an
old maid
, would you?”

“I really don’t think Nelson intends to propose on Saturday night,” I told my aunt. “But if he does, I’ll tell him I have to think about it.”

“Good girl.” She grabbed my hands and squeezed them. Then her mouth dropped open in horror. “My stars, Violet! What in the world have you done to your hands?”

“It’s beet juice. I helped peel some of them today at the settlement house.” I was afraid she would be furious with me, but she directed all of her wrath at my grandmother.

“Florence Howell Hayes! Don’t you care at all if your granddaughter marries well? How could you make her slave all morning like a common servant? She should be commanding a household full of servants!”

“I didn’t make her do anything, Agnes. She volunteered.” Grandmother caressed Agnes’ arm as if smoothing her ruffled feathers. “You should be praising her for doing something useful to help others. Besides, it gave Violet a chance to meet some wonderful young people her age who volunteer there. They’re students at the Chicago Evangelistic Society.”

Aunt Matt stopped stacking teacups and planted her hands on her hips. “Don’t tell me, Florence! Are you trying to match Violet with one of those radical young ministers?”

“Those students are fine young men.”

“Shame on both of you! After all of the things the pair of you have suffered, why would you want Violet to follow either of your examples? Agnes, do you really want that girl to have a life like yours? And you, Florence—you, of all people, should have the blinders off when it comes to marrying a minister!”

Her words made my skin tingle. I knew what she was referring to in Aunt Agnes’ marriage, but what about my grandmother’s? I held my breath, waiting for more information, but for a long moment no one spoke.

“It’s true, I’ve had my share of sorrows,” Grandmother finally said. “But my blessings have far outweighed them. I would be proud to have Violet follow my example when it comes to helping others.”

“Not by peeling vegetables!” Agnes said. “My stars! The women to whom I’ve introduced Violet are very active in charity work. Potter Palmer and his wife are two of Mr. Moody’s biggest supporters. So are Marshall Field and Gustavus Swift and the banker Lyman Gage … They’ve all given money to Mr. Moody’s campaigns.”

“Is that true?” I asked.

Grandmother nodded. “Yes, all of those men have been very generous.”

“Their wives and my other society friends spend a good deal of time raising money for charity too,” Agnes added.

“I know they do,” Grandmother said. “And I appreciate your generosity, Agnes. But I enjoy working with people, getting involved with them and not simply tossing money their way. It’s just the way I am. Lord knows your work and mine are both necessary.”

“If Violet marries well she can influence her husband to support your work. So you see? We are working for the same cause.”

“Why does Violet’s happiness depend solely on whether or not she gets married?” Aunt Matt asked. “Or does misery love company? You want her to be as miserable as you are?”

“Don’t be spiteful, Matt.”

Aunt Birdie cleared her throat. “I have just one thing to say about all of this,” she announced in her wispy voice. She paused dramatically, as if delivering the final word on the matter. “Make sure you marry for love, Violet.”

I wondered about her advice. If I fell in love as deeply as Aunt Birdie had, I also would risk having my heart broken.

“I need to be going,” Agnes said. “Violet, make sure you wear gloves tomorrow night so no one sees those wretched hands.”

“I will. And thank you again, Aunt Agnes, for the beautiful dress.”

“You are quite welcome, dear.
Au revoir
, everyone.”

Chapter

13

Saturday, June 17, 1893

O
n Saturday night, Nelson Kent arrived in a splendid carriage, complete with a footman, to take me to his grandmother’s party. I felt like Cinderella in my magnificent new gown, especially after laboring like a scullery maid the day before. If only I had a fairy godmother to wave her magic wand and fix my stained hands so I wouldn’t need to wear gloves.

“You look beautiful, Violet,” Nelson told me when we arrived at the party. “You are by far the loveliest woman here. I’m congratulating myself for having the foresight to claim you before anyone else had a chance.” His eyes widened as he slipped my wrap from my shoulders. “Your dress is stunning!”

It was stunning, all right. Every man who gazed at the generous view of my assets looked as though he’d been stunned by a blow to the head. Men flocked to me like crows to a cornfield, but I noticed that very few of them looked me in the eye. Instead, their gaze seemed to stray twelve inches below my face. Nelson acted as the scarecrow, shooing them off as fast as they flew to me.

“Sorry, gentlemen,” he said, linking my arm through his. “She’s mine for the evening.” He seemed to revel in his role as King of the Hill.

“Give us a chance, Nelson.”

“Not tonight.”

“We’d like to get to know Miss Hayes too.”

“Then ask her out yourselves—some other time.”

If Mrs. Riggs ever sewed another gown for me, I promised myself that I would choose my own pattern next time.

It wasn’t only the men who noticed my apparel. “Your gown is exquisite,” Haughty told me. Her dark brown eyes shone green with envy.

“Thank you, Hau—um … Hattie.” I cleared my throat to make it seem like I had something caught there, but in truth I had nearly slipped and called her “Haughty” to her face. Nelson noticed and covered his mouth to hide his amusement.

“May I inquire where you had your dress made?” Naughty asked.