Crown of Beauty Page 4

  Dear Lord, no, Catherine wanted to exclaim.

  “No, I don’t think she or her friends tell their children anything about matters dealing with marriage and . . . babies.”

  “Great mysteries, aren’t they?”

  Josie sighed and looked out of the window.

  “I think the more you know, the better prepared you are, but I don’t want to do anything against your mother’s wishes.”

  Catherine waited, sure that Josie was going to continue.

  “I hope your parents allow you to choose your husband, or if they do choose for you, I pray that he is a good a man as your brother. These mysteries your mother does not want to speak to you about, will turn out better for it. Perhaps in time your mother will be more willing to talk to you about such things, if you want her to. I know my relationship with my mother is very different from what you, and your friends, have with your mothers.”

  For a moment Catherine wondered what it would be like to have a mother she could talk to at any time, who wouldn’t bark orders at her without consideration for her feelings or interests. She couldn’t think of a time when she had ever felt as if she could ask her mother anything. If she was meant to know something, she would be told. If not, it was none of her business, or she would find out eventually as it was proper.

  “Are you sure your mother doesn’t mind that I’m coming along with you? She’s only expecting you, isn’t she?”

  She hadn’t meant to change the subject, but it was close to it, only a different concern about mothers than the one Josie was speaking of. Catherine wasn’t in the habit of showing up unexpected at someone’s home, and she wasn’t taught to do so. Arriving to leave a calling card was one thing, but appearing on a doorstep with the expectation of being received, well, that wasn’t polite.

  “Of course. She’ll be happy to see you. She doesn’t know you or Sarah very well but she’d like to. And she’d like some adult company in the midst of her day with the children. As much as she adores them, I think she looks forward to having Edward stop by in the evenings more so now that I’m not living there.”

  Josie smiled wistfully, as if she missed that aspect of her unmarried life, knowing that soon her mother would be married herself to Edward Colt, a doctor who lived in town and helped Josie and Arthur at the shelter.

  “Sometimes I feel as if I’m in a dream, and while I was satisfied living with my mother and having a stable position working in your home, I couldn’t have possibly imagined the life I have now with Arthur.”

  Catherine stared at her. It did seem like a long way to climb, from maid to family, with all the amenities being a Davenport offered, both financially and socially. Somehow, though, Catherine knew that Josie wasn’t referring to any of those benefits.

  “I miss my mother’s company, but if anyone would have told me a year ago that I would meet a man who would be the perfect partner to walk with me in the light of Christ, one who would love me and I would love so much in return, I would have laughed. I thought I might marry eventually, and always wanted children of my own, but to find the love we have, and to share the same goals, it is truly a miracle.”

  Josie’s far away gaze and knowing smile made Catherine look away, as if she wasn’t worthy of such a boon herself. Josie reached over through the blanket and clasped Catherine’s hand into her own.

  “I am confident that God will send the right husband to you, and the two of you will be blessings to each other as well.”

  Catherine didn’t know what to say to this small girl with such a great faith and good will towards her, so she kept her mouth shut as the carriage slowed down and the horses’ hooves ceased their clopping, marking their arrival to Josie’s childhood home.

  Chapter Six

  When Catherine agreed to spend the afternoon with Josie, she never imagined that she would end up in Josie’s mother’s rocking chair with an infant in her lap, the tiny creature’s fingers alternately grasping a lock of her hair that had escaped its bun and making a fist around it to yank with surprising strength.

  “Is she hurting you, dear?”

  Josie’s mother was short and compact like Josie, her own blonde hair a match for her daughter’s. She was polite but motherly, as if she didn’t care so much that Catherine was a cottager more than she viewed her as a young person like Josie, perhaps as she would one of Josie’s friends. When Catherine considered this, she thought that she hadn’t heard Josie speak of any friends, anyone she might wish to visit her, or anyone with whom she wanted to spend time. She knew that Josie had difficulties when she and Arthur began their friendship that summer, before they were engaged to be wed, with her own neighbors and even people at her church. Maybe Josie didn’t really have friends close to her own age, just as Catherine felt she did not herself.

  “Catherine?”

  Josie leaned over and touched the child gently, her eyes meeting Catherine’s.

  “I’ve done it again. I’m sorry, Mrs. Warren, I’ve been daydreaming most of the day. It’s so impolite.”

  Mrs. Warren smile with understanding.

  “I was young once, I know how the mind wanders to so much that the future might hold.”

  Josie turned to look at her mother and her smile grew wide.

  “Oh, and you don’t think of your own wedding now and again, do you?”

  Catherine watched the two of them interact, fascinated by the ease with which Josie teased her mother, and she was about ask Mrs. Warren about her plans for the event when the child pulled hard enough to bring tears to her eyes. Catherine held back the small cry she felt rise in her throat, just as the tiny person made a pleased cooing noise, clearly happy with herself.

  “Oh, let me take her. Sometimes she is unpredictable. Really, they all are.”

  Josie took the child from Catherine carefully, and Catherine tugged at her hair unsuccessfully. Mrs. Warren stepped up close between Catherine and Josie, taking the little girl’s fist in her fingers and squeezing gently. The child looked up at Mrs. Warren and smiled, Catherine’s hair forgotten as she reached up towards Josie’s mother, who took her in her arms and held her on her hip as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

  Catherine had taken her gloves off when she agreed to hold the child, but she couldn’t remember where they were now.

  “You ought to wash your hands before putting your gloves on,” Mrs. Warren told her, as if she could read Catherine’s mind. “They are always putting their hands in their mouths, and touching each other, so it is best to try to be as clean as we can.”

  Catherine nodded, blinking. Was this something one did with all children? Wash up after holding them? Would she have to be so careful with Josie’s baby?

  “They aren’t ill at the moment, but it’s very easy for something to be passed among them, and everyone who comes in contact with them could become sick.”

  Mrs. Warren and Josie were looking at her and Catherine suddenly felt stupid. Perhaps this was something most people knew, and since she didn’t have any interaction with young children, her mother had never seen fit to tell her this.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t know this. Thank you for telling me.”

  She stood up and walked without looking at either of the women into the kitchen, where she found a small bar of soap at the sink. It was a very small room, with a little table where she could picture Josie and her mother sitting cozily, eating together and talking about their work, Mrs. Warren with the children and Josie at Catherine’s house. Maybe Josie told her mother about all the things Catherine and Sarah had that Josie didn’t, all the things that seemed unnecessary as Catherine rubbed the soap between her hands under the cold water of the tap, drying them carefully afterwards on a thin towel folded up on the counter beside the sink. Josie and her mother seemed very happy and comfortable together, and yet had so little. Catherine didn’t think she herself was unhappy, but she didn’t feel satisfied. She wondered if traveling, if fulfilling that dream, would be as pleasing as she expected it woul
d be, and when she returned to life as she knew it, most likely with a husband of her parents’ choosing, if she would carry that pleasure with her for the rest of her life.

  “Would you like something to drink, or perhaps something to take with you to eat on your way home?”

  Josie’s mother stood just inside the room, as if she hadn’t wanted to startle Catherine, but Catherine still jumped a little at the sound of her voice. She reminded herself that while Josie and her mother might be forgiving, her own mother would have something stern to say to her if she kept up this distracted behavior.

  “No, thank you.”

  She walked towards Mrs. Warren and offered an apologetic smile.

  “I hope you won’t think badly of me. I’ve become rather fond of Josie, and I wouldn’t want her mother to find me wanting in any way.”

  Her concern was met with a reassuring laugh.

  “You’re not wanting in any way when it comes to social graces, Catherine, but perhaps in another way, which would explain your wandering thoughts. There have been a lot of changes at your house in the past few months, and that would set anyone to thinking. Now, if you ever need to talk about what is going on in that pretty head of yours, you can always pay me a visit, if you don’t mind a tug on your hair now and again.”

  Catherine laughed and touched the stray lock of hair without thinking.

  “I’ve never held a baby before, and I didn’t know that I would do so today. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to practice before I become an aunt.”

  Mrs. Warren took Catherine’s elbow and guided her to the front room, where Catherine noticed Josie holding the little girl, sleeping now when she had only moments earlier been yanking at Catherine’s head.

  “She’s the last one here today, as you can see. Her mother is having to work a bit more than usual, as the husband fell and hurt his ankle. He needs to rest for a few days before he can return to work, so she has to make up for the loss of his wages. If she is very late, I’ll encourage her to stay here with the baby, and they can sleep in Josie’s bedroom. She’ll have to be up very early to work yet again, so there’s no point in fussing over going home. There’s an older child who works as well and can look after the husband’s needs in the meantime.”

  Catherine followed this statement, confused as to the problem over the man’s ankle. Did they really not have enough money for him to take a rest from work, especially if he was injured? She began speaking before she knew what she was saying.

  “I can give them the money so she doesn’t have to work so much. No one should have to worry like that, especially with children to care for. Perhaps we can stop on our way home. I know I have a bit of spending money with me. I don’t know if it will be enough, but . . .”

  She trailed off and she looked from Josie to Mrs. Warren as they shared a knowing look Catherine didn’t understand.

  “Is that not a proper thing to do, to offer money?”

  She hardly knew what she was doing, speaking her thoughts aloud without a care, but she really didn’t see why they weren’t pleased with her resolution to the problem. Now that she thought of it, though, she figured that if it was so easily remedied, Josie would have given the family money. Arthur would never tell her she couldn’t. Still, Catherine didn’t see why this wasn’t an acceptable solution.

  “We don’t like it, being offered something for nothing. It’s a matter of pride.”

  Josie’s ‘we’ made Catherine wince. She remained silent, hoping one of them would continue.

  “They can’t pay for my mother’s care of little Mary right now, but the older child, a boy, makes deliveries for Dr. Colt, and in return, Dr. Colt pays him what they would usually pay my mother, and then he passes it along to his mother, who brings it to mine. Now, it would be easier, I would think, for my future father to give the coin to his future wife, but it means a great deal to be able to pay for services on one’s own.”

  Catherine felt as if she understood, but she couldn’t really, she knew, since someone else had always paid for everything on her behalf. She had never earned any money of her own, and only rarely handed over money while shopping. It seemed as if people made their lives more difficult through what Josie was describing, but Catherine certainly couldn’t judge their outlook or behavior, especially when their concerns were about money they needed to live, while she had no concerns about money at all, whether it was for her basic needs or anything she chose to purchase on a whim.

  “I don’t mean to sound as if we don’t appreciate your offer. I’m sure Mary’s mother would, too, but she would be ashamed as well, even though their circumstances are the result of an accident. We do help each other to make difficult times easier, but in ways that are more of a trade, I would say, rather than charity.”

  Wasn’t charity something that was spoken of at church, Catherine wondered, and if it was, why didn’t people who need it accept it? Her parents endowed beds at the hospital on Friendship Street, and Catherine was sure that they were used without any question by those who needed treatment. Well, maybe she wasn’t so sure. Maybe they accepted the assistance but felt badly about having to do so.

  “I’m sorry, I’m afraid I really don’t understand, although I’m trying to.”

  Josie stepped closer to her, tiny Mary tucked up against her, and Catherine stared at the sleeping child. Her little mouth was slightly open, her petal pink lips tilted up at the corners in a secretive smile.

  “Is she dreaming, do you think?”

  It was a completely different subject, and while Catherine hadn’t meant to shift the conversation, she was relieved that there was a more pleasant topic available to move on from that which gave her discomfort.

  Josie smiled, and Mrs. Warren rested a hand gently on Mary’s dark curls. Josie looked at her mother and they smiled at each other. Catherine felt like an outsider again, and she wondered how many more times that day she would feel that way. Even when she was with Sarah, doing her best to watch her sister and keep her out of trouble, she didn’t feel like a part of the group of friends with whom they had been raised. She didn’t know them like Sarah seemed to, and to be honest, she didn’t want to spend time with them. If she could just sit down on the Cliff Walk and read without being bothered . . . but even that would be troublesome now as the weather began to change and the wind became too cold. She couldn’t hide in her room with her books; her mother would never let her get away with that.

  She sighed, watching as Josie carefully tilted the girl into Mrs. Warren’s arms without disturbing her sleep, and Mrs. Warren kissed Josie’s cheek. A small stab of jealousy pricked at Catherine, and she willed it away, refusing to allow her problems with her own mother to interfere with her friendship with Josie.

  Chapter Seven

  Catherine had somehow managed to pay enough attention during dinner that evening to keep her mother pleased, but she barely heard Sarah’s voice rattling on about some party or other, complaining about the friends who had already left for the City, or for travel to Europe or even the Far East.

  “Oh, why can’t we build our own boat and sail somewhere exotic!”

  Catherine looked up at that, just in time to see her mother purse her lips. She knew what was coming, and returned her gaze to her lap, where she twisted her hands together and held back a sigh. Sarah was too old be continue to be so free with her speech, especially with their parents. Only last night the weather was still bearable enough for her younger sister to run barefoot on the beach, but now, after spending her time outside with a blanket draped over her skirts all day, she wondered when Sarah’s excursions would be restricted to the indoors, especially when the air, always damp, took its toll on the rocks, making them too slippery to navigate. Sarah loved the Cliff Walk and would sneak around to run along its length and steps with her friends, but it was dangerous.

  “Catherine. Would you be so kind as to respond to my question?”

  Oh, no. Catherine winced.

  “Please excuse me, Mother. I wa
s thinking of my visit to the shelter and Josie’s home today. I didn’t mean to be inattentive.”

  She watched her mother glance to her father, who was busy spearing a bit of potato on his fork. He seemed to be enjoying himself in general lately, now that he didn’t rush into the City every day and spend hours socializing with business partners and mulling over ledgers. He still took a great interest in his business but he entrusted his employees more now, and Catherine knew that he and Arthur spent a limited amount of time discussing such matters, as well as Arthur’s own endeavors with the shelter. She knew that Arthur would inherit their father’s business, whether he wanted to or not, but now their father wasn’t insisting on Arthur’s becoming absorbed in it as he used to be. It was possible, Catherine assumed, to do so much, as Arthur did now, yet here she was, her thoughts full of her sister’s tiresome antics and dreams of far-off places.

  “Your father and I would like to speak to you - privately - after our meal.”

  Privately? Catherine looked at Sarah just as her sister turned her head towards her, the younger girl’s eyes wide.

  “What did you do?” Sarah mouthed the words expressively so there was no mistaking them.

  “But that was not a question, was it?”

  Catherine and Sarah both swung their heads back to face their mother.

  “Sarah, you will mind your own business, although your time is coming soon as well. Catherine, please enlighten us on the state of your brother’s work in town, if you please.”

  Sarah’s shoulders slumped and Catherine wished their mother allowed them to sit side my side instead of across from each other so that she could take her sister’s hand in her own. She knew that Sarah had to grow up sometime, but to watch her excitement fade under their mother’s tongue was disheartening. She remembered Josie’s words about God and praying, and made a quick and silent request that He allow her sister to hold onto her youthful happiness in spite of whatever their mother had planned. For both of them.