Gregory, Lisa (7 page)

Katherine's
first action was to give a party. She held a small, rather boring recital
featuring a string quartet, to which she invited several Boston notables and
Colonel Wellman, the commandant of the prison. The latter was quite overcome at
rubbing shoulders with Back Bay Society and profusely thanked his hostess.
However, not being partial to string quartets, he was not averse to being drawn
away from the recital by Katherine.

Propelling
him to the edge of the room (to have left the room alone in the company of a
man would have been quite improper), she said, "Colonel Wellman, I have
been thinking about a project regarding which I would like your advice."

"Oh,
Miss Devereaux, you know that I will be more than pleased to help you," he
said, flattered.

"I
am very interested in good works, as you probably know. I have often been
involved in charitable work with Mrs. Castlemaigne—the wife of General
Castlemaigne. No doubt you have met her and heard of her interest in
charity."

He
swelled visibly at her presumption that he communed with generals and their
ladies and lied, "Why, of course; she is justly famous for her charity. An
admirable woman."

"Yes,
I greatly miss her company since they moved to Washington. Needless to say,
however, I would like to continue with our work and have been cudgeling my
brain to think of some way I could indulge myself and help the war effort at
the same time."

"Quite
admirable," he murmured, wishing that he were not a married man, for he
found Miss Devereaux's fortune quite appealing and it was obvious that she was
enthralled with him.

Katherine,
thinking that the dapper little man greatly resembled a sparrow, continued,
"Finally, I realized that the perfect solution was the military prison. My
father, as you know, employs several of your prisoners, and I thought that I
would begin with them—sort of a test case. Don't you think that's a marvelous
idea?"

"But
of course. Only—what exactly is it that you propose to do?"

"Well,
I hoped to save the Army some of the expense of their upkeep—buy their winter
clothing, say. And since they are down at the shipyards during the day, how
much simpler it would be for us to provide their lunch. And it would save you
the expense and trouble of having to bring the food down to them at noon."

"Splendid.
Splendid," he said vaguely, thinking that society ladies came up with the
most peculiar ideas. "Just take it up with the man in charge of
them."

"I
think perhaps I should show him your signature. Here, let me get a piece of
paper and a pen. Now, if you would just write out your permission for me to
give them clothing and feed them their noon meal—"

The
colonel, beginning to feel slightly harassed, hurriedly wrote out his
permission.

Katherine
next enlisted the aid of Pegeen. "Peggy, have you ever been inside a
pawnshop?"

"Me,
miss? Not likely."

"Well,
do you know of any?"

"No.
Why?"

"Perhaps
a jeweler would be better."

"For
what?"

"Well,
Peg, Father and I have had a rift, as you know."

"Indeed,
I do, Miss Kate, and proper miserable he looks, too. I know if you'd just speak
to him sweet-like, he'd be glad to have you come back to the office."

"But
it's more than that. He wouldn't allow me my prisoner plan. Well, I've obtained
the Army's permission, but now I need to finance it."

"Well,
perhaps he'll give in on that."

"He
might," Katherine said judiciously. "But I prefer to present him with
a
fait accompli."

"A
what?"

"A—a
finished thing—you know, like going ahead and buying a dress instead of asking
permission to."

"I
see. So you want to pay for it yourself."

"Exactly.
But my pin money will hardly cover it. So I shall have to pawn my jewelry my
mother left me."

"Oh,
miss, not that!"

"Well,
not all of it, of course. Just what I need. It's the only thing I have which is
truly my own and not given me by my father."

"But
you once told me those necklaces and eardrops and things had been in your
mother's family for years."

"So
they have, and I should hate to lose them. But I'm hoping that Papa will be so
convinced of my determination and so scandalized at my pawning the family
jewels that he will reclaim them and finance my project."

"Oh,
miss, wouldn't it be easier just to ask him? I know my Pop has got a dreadful
temper, particularly when the drink's in him, but he's always sorry after he
yells at me, and if I smile at him real sweet and tease him and call him
'Poppy' like when I was little, he'll always give in and do what I want."

"Well,
I don't intend to engage in that sort of subterfuge. I am right, you see, and I
intend to defeat him, fair and square."

The
maid sighed. "I'm sure I don't know how to—wait, I've got it! My Jimmy
will know. He's a smart one, that boy. And he's no doubt been in a pawnshop,
for he's a bit prone to gamble a little, you see, and I know he says he's
pawned and recovered his Gran's gold watch a hundred times."

"Good.
He sounds like our man."

He
was indeed. A handsome, sharp-featured little man, with bright, knowing eyes
and a cocky air, Jimmy O'Toole assured Miss Devereaux that he was just the man
for the job. Taking her diamond earbobs, he soon returned with cash, getting a
tip from Katherine and a kiss from Pegeen for his pains.

Katherine
promptly sallied forth to buy serviceable, cheap, warm, ready-made clothes for
the men. She galvanized Mrs. Woods to action by explaining her food needs and
then sadly sighing that she was afraid it would be too much for the housekeeper
to handle.

So
it was that, two weeks after her father's refusal, Katherine and Pegeen, with a
bundle of clothing, boxes of bread, and buckets of stew, arrived at the
shipyards at noon in the Devereaux carriage. Rather like a warship at full
sail, Katherine strode up to the prison wagon where lunch was being dispensed,
immediately drawing the attention of all the men. Something was going on, they
could see, and they strained their ears to hear what she said to Sergeant
Gunther.

"Sergeant,
I presume that you are in charge of these prisoners?"

"Yes,
miss. Do you have a complaint about one of them?"

"Indeed
not." She looked haughtily down her nose at him, firmly believing it best
to throw the enemy off-guard with a surprise attack. "I must tell you that
I was appalled at the condition of these prisoners."

The
sergeant stared at her blankly.

"I
can see that you have no excuse for it."

"But—but,
miss, I don't—"

"Colonel
Wellman quite agreed with me when we dined together last week."

The
sergeant, bullied and not knowing how to escape—a friend of the prison
commandant!—stammered helplessly.

"Please,
Sergeant." Katherine held up one hand imperiously. "I quite realize
the difficulties of the Army. I intend to remedy the situation myself—with the
Colonel's full accord, of course."

With
a flourish she presented Wellman's written permission. The sergeant read it and
handed it back to her. "As you wish, miss."

"Good.
I'm glad that we see eye to eye." She rewarded him with a frosty smile.
"Pegeen!"

The
prisoners, who had been listening to the exchange with avid curiosity, were now
presented with a new spectacle: a pretty young redheaded girl approached
carrying a bundle of clothing. Immediately all eyes focused on her. Pegeen
flushed prettily, quite excited at all the admiration. One prisoner, a boy of
about nineteen or twenty, sprang to his feet and went to Pegeen. He was a
lively lad, thin, awkward in his shackles, but with a wide, generous mouth and
merry black eyes.

With
a jaunty air, quite oblivious to his chains, he doffed his cap. "Allow me,
ma'am. A pretty little girl like you shouldn't be carrying so much."

At
the jeers and catcalls of his fellows, he just grinned and called back,
"Well, some of us are gentlemen, you know."

"Bring
the clothes here, Mr.—" Katherine said and paused inquiringly.

"Former,
ma'am," he said agreeably. "Ensign Edward Former, C.S.N. Where shall
I put these?"

"If
you would just stand there and hold them, Pegeen and I will dispense them.
Gentlemen, if you will please line up, Miss Shaughnessy and I propose to give
you each a warmer suit of clothes. It has come to my attention that you are not
quite suitably dressed for the rigors of a Boston winter. Feeling that time was
more of the essence than fit, I bought these ready-made and primarily in a
medium size. I do have a few, however, in a larger or a smaller size. If you
will please form two lines, one in front of Miss Shaughnessy and one in front
of me. Sergeant, if you and your men would fetch the food from the carriage, I
would greatly appreciate it."

After
the clothes were doled out, Katherine dispensed the stew and bread, while
Pegeen poured out the coffee. The men, feeling slightly giddy at the delicious
aroma of stew and coffee and at the unaccustomed pleasure of being so near
soft, smiling, fragrant women, laughed and talked excitedly. Katherine and
Pegeen caught the festive mood, feeling quite warm with doing a good deed and
with the obvious appreciation of the men.

"Ma'am,
this is the best coffee I've had since 1861, and that's the truth," the
irrepressible Former called out. "The only thing good about getting
captured is getting away from that chicory stuff. Though I'll tell you
truthfully, ma'am, that prison coffee ain't much better."

"But
what in the world is chicory coffee?" Pegeen asked.

Fortner
explained, "Chicory coffee is made with chicory nuts instead of coffee beans."

"But
what does the war have to do with coffee?" Pegeen persisted.

There
was an outburst of laughter, slightly tinged with bitterness. "The
blockade, ma'am, the blockade. Do you know that coffee beans are grown in South
America? Well, they are, and they have to be shipped in. And when the ships
can't get in—
voilà,
no coffee beans and therefore no coffee. Actually,
we weren't so bad off in the Navy 'cause we could stop in foreign ports and get
coffee there. But I pity the soldiers and women stuck on the land."

"Pegeen,
I think it's time we left now," Katherine intervened, seeing the girl
puzzling out another question. "If one of you men will be so good as to
carry these pots back to the carriage? Sergeant, I think that it would be much
easier to serve off a trestle table than the end of a wagon. Tomorrow if you
would just set up a table—nothing elaborate, of course, just a couple of
sawhorses with planks in between—thank you. Good afternoon, gentlemen. Come
along, Pegeen."

Before
they reached the carriage, Teddy Mathias intercepted them, wide-eyed with
suppressed curiosity. "Miss Katherine, your father would like to speak to
you in his office."

Katherine
squared her shoulders for the final confrontation and followed him. Pegeen went
on to the carriage to wait for her, feeling sympathetic pangs of nervousness
for her mistress—more than was felt by Katherine, who rather looked forward to
settling the matter. Knowing that she had already won, Katherine sat calmly
through her father's tirade, simply waiting for his anger to burn itself out.
He thundered about her disobedience, her insolence, her extravagance, her
stubbornness, her willfulness, and her absolute gall until finally, exhausted,
he dropped into his chair.

"Papa,
I did not harass the Army," Katherine said mildly. "I simply talked
to Colonel Wellman, and he was quite pleased to give me his permission. You
see, here is his written authorization. It was
not
obtained under duress.
Having his permission, I fail to see that I have done anything wrong."

"Katherine,
I expressly forbade you to—"

"Oh,
no, Papa, you left the subject open. You didn't say that I could not approach
the colonel, nor did you say that I could not feed the prisoners with Colonel
Wellman's approval."

"Katherine,
you are merely quibbling with words—if you were a man, you would have made an
excellent attorney. The import of our conversation was that I did not wish for
you to do this."

"Yes,
I know you disapprove and that is why I am paying for it myself."

"Paying
for it yourself? But how?"

"Well,
of course, my allowance would not cover it, and I didn't wish to use your
money, opposed as you are to the idea. So I pawned the diamond earbobs Mama
left me."

"You
what?" he gasped. "Do you mean to tell me that you walked into a
pawnshop and pawned your mother's earrings?"

"Well,
of course, I didn't enter a place like that myself. I entrusted the job to a
friend of Pegeen's."

"Who
the devil is Pegeen?"

"Papa,
please, your language. Pegeen is my maid. At any rate, I did pawn Mama's
earrings—at least they aren't centuries-old heirlooms, like the pearls or the
garnets or the ruby drop."