Meggy’s prayers went unanswered, however, when her face made contact with the rough fabric of Patsy’s skirts. “Miss Meggy, darlin’ whatever are you doing?” she asked just above a whisper.
Happy that it was Patsy who had found her out and no one else, Meggy let go a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Nothin’,” she replied looking up into the kind eyes of her caretaker.
Patsy shook her head, frizzy red curls dancing around her mob cap. “Now, I know that isn’t true.”
“I was just…. Mother and Uncle Bertram were talking, and I wanted to know what they were saying, that’s all. I thought maybe they might say something about Da.”
Smiling, as if to say she understood, Patsy reached down and took her charge’s little hand. “How would you like a cookie?” she asked, leading her into the kitchen.
“Mother says I shouldn&rsquo
New York CityCharlie Ashton always enjoyed walking the floor of his father’s factory with him, listening to the owner encourage the workers and comment on their effort. Everyone always seemed so happy and proud to be doing their job. Today was no different, as Mr. Ashton proceeded up and down the rows, patting workers on the back, calling almost every single one of them by name, despite the hundreds of individuals they passed. Charlie wondered how he knew everyone so well, and when he’d asked, his father simply said, “People are important.”The sounds of the machinery made parts of the factory very noisy, and whenever they would approach some of the more dangerous areas, John would always take Charlie by the hand, even though he was nearly eleven years old—practically a grown man—and his head reached his father’s shoulder. He said he wanted to make sure nothing happened to his right hand man, so Charlie shrugged and took his f
Southampton“Time for bed,” her mother repeated for at least the third time. Meggy continued to pretend that she could not hear her. She had been playing at reading for nearly half an hour now, not budging from her chair in the parlor, despite the fact that she knew her mother didn’t like her to be downstairs. Meggy didn’t like her room anymore.“Mary Margaret!” she shouted this time. “Get upstairs and change this instant or else I shall fetch Ms. Strickland from her chambers and have her put you to bed!”Meggy took a deep breath, realizing she would have to go now, despite the fact that she would have done almost anything to work her way around it. But without a word of back-talk (which would have gotten her a fat lip at the least) she gathered up her book, dragged herself out of the room, and began her slow ascent up the stairs.She took her time washing up as well. No longer would Patsy come in and help h
New York CityCharles Ashton’s study looked out over the courtyard of his parents’ estate. The gardens and hedges were gorgeous and a large fountain decorated with cherubs sat directly in the center of his view. He considered himself quite blessed to have the opportunity to take a break from his studies to look out at such a lovely vision.His father believed that children should stay at home with their parents until it was time to go off to a secondary school to study, so John had hired the best tutors to come into their home to educate both of his children, and despite the fact that she was female, his sister Grace studied just the same as he did, though in another room with a governess instead of a male tutor.Charlie had always been told he was quite bright and his tutor gave him high marks in nearly every area. He studied hard and paid particular attention to math and business as he knew how important those two subjects would be when he took ove
New York CityCharlie sat in his study staring at a blank page, his pen poised just above his stationery. His initials, CJA, were inscribed at the top in fancy, golden calligraphy. A gift from his mother, the stationery made him feel important. Perhaps that was part of the reason he wasn’t exactly sure what to write. What if his words came across as foolish? It would be difficult to be both important and ridiculous at the same time.Of course, the other idea that made this particular writing task difficult is that it was the first time he was to write to Mary Margaret. He had known for years that she would be his wife one day, but having never met her, he simply had no idea what she was like. He wasn’t sure what he should discuss. What if she found his remarks drab and boring? Though he’d written a bit of correspondence before—mostly to his grandparents who lived upstate—this letter seemed important, and he didn’t wish to mess it up.
Southampton“Well of course I’m not going to allow her to read it!”Meg could hear her mother shouting from the parlor below her. She’d always known that sound travelled up the radiator pipes to her room, but she had only recently discovered that pressing an ear to the pipe (or a glass if one had such a thing handy) allowed even more sound to come through. In this way, she had discovered quite a bit of information that she would have otherwise not been privy to. This evening was no different. Ditching the history textbook Ms. Strickland had insisted she read, she made her way over to the radiator and had a listen, wondering what had gotten her mother so completely bent out of shape.“Why ever not? It’s not as if it even mentions the arrangement,” her uncle replied, his voice showing more indifference than irritation.There was a jolt, as if her mother had tossed something on a table or slammed her hand down. &ldqu
New York City“No letter again today?” Charlie asked, a tinge of hope still in his voice, though he could tell by his mother’s expression that the answer would be no.“I’m sorry, Charlie,” Pamela said, placing what had come in the post on her husband’s desk. “I’m afraid there’s nothing today either.”Charlie’s shoulders slumped. It had been nearly two months since he’d sent his letter to Mary Margaret, and she hadn’t written back yet. “But father’s trip is coming up, and if she doesn’t answer, then how will I know if it is all right for me to visit?”Pamela wrapped her arm around her son’s shoulders. “Charlie, your father and I have talked about this. Perhaps, this time, it would be best if your father went by himself. He can speak to Mrs. Westmoreland in person, make sure that Mary Margaret received your letter, and then, once they&rsqu
Southampton“One, two, three. One, two, three,” Mildred Westmoreland counted as she traced Meg’s steps around the room. “Good, now remember to hold your arm up. It must be stiff. That’s it.”The sound of cheerfulness in her mother’s voice was not only surprising but refreshing. Ever since her mother had decided that she would teach Meg to dance herself a few months ago, they’d spent quite a bit of time together each afternoon. Though Ms. Strickland had insisted that she knew all of the dances Meg was sure to encounter once she began attending balls on a regular basis, Mrs. Westmoreland had been appalled at the poor quality of her instruction and had taken over the duty almost immediately. She had explained to her daughter that very afternoon, “As a young lady, I was renowned for my dancing skills. No daughter of mine will embarrass herself at a ball.”While it had been odd at first—after all, Meg
New York CityIt was a crisp fall morning, and because Charlie preferred to be outside when possible, he had decided to go for a walk about the grounds to clear his head and gather his thoughts.In a few short weeks, he would be off to attend high school at the New York Preparatory School, not far away in Manhattan. Though he was certain he would see his parents frequently, the idea of going off to school after so many years of being tutored at home was a bit unsettling. His friend Walter would also be attending, so at least he knew he’d see a familiar face. Nevertheless, he was quite fond of his parents and thought he would likely miss them quite a bit, despite knowing they would visit regularly, and he could come home often.Though he had determined to push thoughts of Mary Margaret Westmoreland out of his head months ago, he couldn’t help but wonder if he should write her another letter once he knew his school address, on the off chance that she m