In Name Only (4 page)

Caroline forced a
smile, but inside she felt a twinge of sadness again and she fought back the
urge to cry.   She liked Elizabeth and Uncle Edward, but they seemed like
strangers and this house was so unlike home.  However, they were both trying so
hard to make her feel welcomed and for that she was grateful.

“Come, Carrie.”  Elizabeth took Caroline by the hand and led her into the foyer.  The Martin household
smelled pleasantly of lemon and beeswax, the tile floor so white that Caroline
almost squinted.  The walls were a beige and green Heraldic design which made
the high ceilings seem more so.

Elizabeth
motioned for Caroline to follow her up the right curve of the long staircase in
the center of the front hallway.  At the top, they turned right and passed the
lavatory. They walked through the long corridor of the east wing.  Elizabeth stopped at the last room on the left, then opened the door.

They stepped
inside and Caroline stifled a gasp.  It was spacious and bright, the
freshly-papered walls a yellow background with rose-colored flowers.  The far
wall held a tall window with a simple white shade.  The right side served as
the backdrop for the carved maple bed and a small brick fireplace lined the
left side.  Her trunk had been placed at the foot of her bed.

Caroline took off
her gloves and laid them on the dresser.  She walked to the window, opened it wide
and breathed in the fresh air.

“We’ve ordered
some curtains for your room, Carrie, but they haven’t as yet arrived.  They are
being custom made to match the wallpaper.”

“Drapes aren’t
necessary.  This simple shade will do just fine.”   She paused, then commented,
“There is no dressing screen in here.”

“Yes.  It ought
to be here by the end of the week. Do you think you can manage without one
until then?”

Caroline grimaced,
although she quickly tried to change it to a smile. “Yes, I suppose so.”

Elizabeth
took Caroline’s hand and pulled her toward the walk-in closet next
to the door.  First, she stopped and pointed out the two ropes which were
attached to the ceiling and hanging beside the closet entrance.  “These are the
servants’ bells.  If you need Patsie or one of the other servants, pull on this
one on the left to reach one of the servants in the kitchen. The rope on the
right rings a bell in the servants’ quarters.  They will know from the tone of
it that you are calling for them.”

Elizabeth
walked into the closet and lifted out one of the silk gowns. 
“Father had these made especially for you, Carrie.”

Caroline nodded. 
“It’s beautiful, Lizzie.  I’ve never really owned such a finely-made dress.”  She
paused. “Well, I should like to rest a while before supper, if that’s
acceptable to you.”

Elizabeth
stepped back and lowered her head, then forced a smile. “Yes, of
course.  If you need anything, just let me know.  Perhaps we might have a
lengthy and heartfelt conversation when you wake.”

“That would be
fine.”

Elizabeth let
herself out of the room and closed the door.

The first task that
Caroline wanted to accomplish was to remove her corset.  In the first stages of
her father’s illness, she was only 14 years old, scarcely at an age to wear
one.  Since she seldom ventured outside the house, there was no reason to make
use of such a garment. When Mrs. Shepherd insisted that she put one on for this
trip,  Caroline was sure that she would die of embarrassment as the elderly
woman assisted her into the tight-fitting garment.  Once it was firmly in
place, Caroline figured that it would be necessary for her to stop breathing or
hold her breath for the entire trip.  Now, her first opportunity alone, she
wanted nothing more than to take it off. 

She undressed down
to her corset and shift and stood before the mirror. 
What a ridiculous
piece of clothing this is
.  As she turned and studied herself, she
remembered that the string to undo the corset was behind her and that she had
no way of reaching it to take it off.

Caroline sighed. 
Now, she was either going to have to sleep with it on or call someone to assist
her.   She pondered about it for a few moments, then decided to leave her
corset on.  It would be too humiliating to ask one of the servants for assistance
as they would most likely question why she didn’t realize she needed help.

Caroline opened up
her trunk and lifted out the smaller box containing her books and placed it on
the floor.  She took off the lid; the first book on top was her mother’s
Bible.  She picked it up and tenderly ran her fingers along the cover.  She
next lifted out the novel “Jane Eyre,” and read the first page’s inscription,
“Caroline, may words always soothe and comfort you, Your Loving Father.” 

“
Novels are not
real life, Carrie.”

“But the
characters are real to me.  And the stories are. . .”

“Remember that
stories are just that, stories, a way to escape.  Life rarely presents itself
in such a way.  Difficult and challenging situations will happen that will not
always have tidy conclusions to them.”

“Papa, don’t be
so maudlin.”

She dropped onto
the massive bed and sank into its comfort.  Despite the rigid corset and the
anxiety of being in an unfamiliar place, Caroline felt herself drifting off to
sleep.

“Carrie, are you
awake?  ‘Tis time for supper.”

Caroline blinked
her eyes and cleared her throat.  “I shall be down in a few moments.”

She tried to sit
up, but the hard unmoving corset prevented her.  She rolled onto her side and
slid off the bed.  Caroline pulled her dress on, buttoned up the front, then
walked to the vanity next to the closet and brushed her long hair into place.  
She stared at the mirror and the ornate design framing it.  She had no interest
in seeing her reflection.  Instead she studied the flawless glass, devoid of
any imperfections unlike her spotted and ancient one at home.  When she did
finally focus on herself, she was rather taken aback by how pale her skin was,
how dark her freckles seemed and the true shade of her copper hair.

She made her way
down the long corridor to the grand staircase and slowly descended the steps. 
The foyer area was bright with the late afternoon light. There were numerous
artworks adorning the wall.  One that drew her attention was a large painting of
a woman at a piano and a child, who was drawing, laying on the floor.  The red
and black colors seemed almost ominous, and yet something about the painting
exuded hope, perhaps the child’s innocent expression.

“There you are,
Carrie.  That was painted by the local artist, Thomas Eakins.  Come, come,” she
motioned toward her, “we’re waiting for you in the dining room.”

At the bottom of
the steps, Caroline followed her cousin as she turned and passed through a
parlor, then entered the massive room.   Caroline surveyed her surroundings and
concluded that this room was entirely too large for the one long table and
chairs which were situated in the center. 

Elizabeth
guided her to the head of the table where Uncle Edward stood.

“My dear, you are
looking well-rested.”

“It’s a miracle I
slept at all with this ridiculous garment.  “Yes, thank you, Uncle.”

“Caroline, you sit
here to my left and, Elizabeth, you may sit in your usual position to my
right.”

They bowed their
heads so Caroline followed their example.  Uncle recited a prayer. 

“This is such a
spacious room, Uncle.”

“We use it for
receptions.  It is capable of holding 100 people comfortably.  Slightly less
with an orchestra.”

Caroline stared
at the shiny linen tablecloth which covered the long table.  There was an
intricate design of flowers running down the center and Caroline ran her hand
along the soft material.

“Elizabeth can show you the rest of the house tomorrow, if you’d like.”

“That would be
fine, Uncle.”

A young, pretty
servant entered the room through the side door.  She carried a large bowl and
proceeded to serve each person some beef broth.  Caroline studied the young
slender girl, who moved about confidently.  Her long brown hair was pulled back
under a servant’s mobcap.  Her huge dark eyes were intent on performing the
task efficiently.

Caroline leaned
close to Uncle and whispered. “That servant seems young, Uncle.  How old is
she?”

“Selly is young,
just turned 15, but quite a remarkable servant.  She has been employed here
since she was 12.  Both her parents were dead at that point and she needed a
place to live so we gave her work and she lives and eats here without cost, of
course.  And she takes direction splendidly, a bright girl.”

“Yes, she does.”
That
poor girl
.

“As an added advantage,
she can read and write.” 

Caroline cringed
and glanced away.  She could be that girl right now, working as a kitchen
servant in Boston. 

Another servant, a
stout middle-aged woman, came into the dining room to retrieve the emptied soup
bowls.   A minute or so passed and Selly returned, this time with a fruit cup. 

“Thank you,
Selly,” Caroline said, as the girl placed a cup in front of her.

The young girl’s
eyes widened, then she smiled.

“Caroline,” Uncle
Edward whispered, “Elizabeth and I must teach you about the finer methods of
socializing.”

“Socializing,
Uncle?”

“Of course.  We
don’t speak with the servants unless we are asking them to do a chore.”

“We don’t?”

“No, my dear.”

“Oh.” Caroline now
fidgeted in her seat and began to nervously tap her foot.  Social skills were
not at the top of what she believed life’s priorities to be, especially when it
came to interacting with servants, to whom she was more closely connected. 

“After supper, I
want to show you a painting in my study.”

“Yes, of course,
Uncle.” 

After the main
course of roast chicken and dessert of chocolate cake, Uncle Edward and
Elizabeth escorted Caroline across the hall to the study.  He turned on the gas
sconces which flanked the mantelpiece, then lit a cigar.  Bookcases lined the
walls and the darker, masculine cherry wood paneling hinted that this was a
room that he had designed himself.

Uncle stood before
a painting of two young men at the seashore.  “Come and see this picture,
Caroline,” he said.

Caroline squinted
to look at the young men more closely. The smaller one had an expression which
seemed vaguely familiar.  “Oh, my, that’s Papa, isn’t it?”

“Yes, my dear,
and Yours Truly.  We were handsome young men, weren’t we?”

“Oh, yes, yes!”

“This was painted
while we stayed at Margate beach one year.”

Caroline examined
the painting and she observed that her father, the younger of the two at
fourteen, wore a broad grin with his arm reaching up and firmly around his
brother’s shoulder.  Uncle, around 18, kept a cautious smile.  Caroline’s eyes
began to tear.

“This is
wonderful.  I don’t have any pictures of my father.  It is such a gift that you
have this painting.”

“My dear, if you
should like, I could hire the local artist to paint a smaller reproduction for
your bedroom.”

“Yes, yes, thank
you very much, Uncle.” Staring at her father’s portrait and seeing the vitality
of his youth, Caroline felt herself overcome with emotion.  “Uncle?”

“Yes, my dear?”

“Why is it that
you and Father did not see each other?”

Uncle glanced
away, then stared at the painting again.  “Well, your father, he was very
headstrong.”

“Yes, I know that
well.”

“He met your
mother and she was lower class.  Our father was very particular about whom his
sons married, so he threatened Andrew, told him that he would be written out of
the will if he married her.  Your father did not waste a moment and married
your mother.  I often tried to send him money, even after your mother had died,
but he always refused.

“I had not heard
from him in many years, Caroline.  When I received his telegram saying how ill
he was, I wrote to him and insisted that he take some money for you, and I also
offered to take you in like you were my own.”

“You’ve been most
generous, Uncle.”

“It has been a
pleasure.  Now, come and see this portrait of your aunt.” Uncle and Elizabeth
led Caroline across the room to a large painting of a heavyset woman with
blonde hair, a warm smile and a dark blue gown. 

“My Ruth was the
kindest woman I have ever known.  When she died suddenly last year, I thought
my world had ended.”  Uncle Edward and Elizabeth were both blinking back tears.

“I regret that I
didn’t have the opportunity to meet her, Uncle.”

He nodded and
continued staring at the painting.  Caroline cleared her throat.  “Well, if you
don’t mind, Uncle, I’m exhausted from my trip.  Might I be excused to my
bedroom?”