A LADY NAMED ROSE
Chapter Fourteen
Just as Rose feared, Teddy Quinn's interest
in her intensified in the weeks following her visit to his family's home. Nearly
every Sunday, he made an appearance at Meg's doorstep on some pretext or
another. Rose humored him; her strict upbringing dictated that she at least be
polite to a gentleman caller. But she had no romantic interest in Teddy
whatsoever. She'd only experienced that kind of love once, and losing that love
had killed a part of her. She wasn't sure she'd ever feel the same way towards
anyone else, especially not Teddy, who was her age but behaved very much like a
boy.
Still, rather than feign a headache or avoid
visiting Meg entirely--as she felt an urge to do--Rose bit her tongue,
plastered a smile on her face and endured Teddy and all his talk of cops and
gyms and boxing. She told herself she was doing it for Meg, who was oblivious
to Rose's disinterest and excited over the possibility of a budding courtship
between her friend and her cousin. Rose felt she owed Meg, and besides, once
she started school, she wouldn't have much time to come to the city anyway.
The wheels had been set in motion for Rose's
admission to Vassar. Victoria had obtained an application, which Rose had
filled out with nearly entirely fabricated information. The admissions office
had also requested an essay telling all about herself; Rose spun a fanciful
story about growing up on a Wisconsin farm. Her father and friends in
Philadelphia had always told her she had a flair for the dramatic, and she used
it to full effect here, including a yarn about assisting a heifer through a
difficult birth in the midst of a rainstorm. She ended her tale with the tragic
deaths of her "parents" in a fire and a journey east to New York
City, where she quickly found work as a maid "in hopes of saving enough
money to pursue my goal of studying art at a fine institution of higher
learning."
Rose had informed Victoria that she'd already
written her high school for a transcript; and she included with her application
the phony papers Tommy obtained for her. She had to admit they appeared
authentic; whoever prepared the documents had given her even higher marks than
she actually earned in finishing school!
That done, she anxiously awaited the school's
response, making the arduous trek to the mailbox at the end of the long
driveway each and every morning before Randolph could get there. And on a
chilly October morning, her answer arrived.
Rose tossed the rest of the mail on a table
in the foyer and ran all the way upstairs to her attic room without stopping to
catch her breath or remove her shawl. She sat down on her bed and held the
official-looking envelope in her lap for a minute, terrified of what she may
find inside. Finally, taking a deep breath, she tore it open.
Typed neatly on school stationary, the letter
began, "Dear Miss Dawson: We are pleased to inform you that you have been
accepted to Vassar College for the spring semester of 1913..."
"I'm in!" Rose could scarcely
contain her enthusiasm. She jumped to her feet and let out a decidedly
unladylike whoop. Then she hurried downstairs to give Victoria the news. A
stern-faced Belinda met her in the hallway.
"Would you please stop that noise!
You'll wake the baby!"
"Yes, ma'am." Rose did her best to
appear contrite, then as the nurse turned her back, she stuck her tongue out at
her and continued on to the master bedroom.
Victoria had assumed what had, for her, become
a familiar pose: sitting up underneath the covers, head resting against a
cushion of feather pillows. A Victrola sat on the night table; William had
moved it there from downstairs in hopes that the music would lift his wife's
spirits. There were phonographs resting beside the machine, but none playing.
Victoria smiled wanly. "Rose, take off
your shawl and stay awhile."
Rose blushed as she realized that she still
had not removed the garment. "I heard from Vassar, Mrs. Scott. They've
accepted me!"
Victoria's entire countenance brightened and
she sat up straighter; it was as if this were the news she been waiting for to
draw her out of her melancholia. "That's wonderful, dear! Show me the
letter."
After sharing the acceptance letter with her
employer, Rose was bursting to tell the rest of the household. Alas, William
was at the office and the children were in school: William III at prep school,
Lucy, who'd turned twelve in September, at Rye Seminary, a boarding school in
lower Westchester County; and Richard and Josephine in elementary school in
Tarrytown. With the nanny's position still vacant, Rose was appointed to walk
the two youngest to and from school, but they weren't due home for hours.
Randolph was sequestered in the study, taking care of some important household
business, and Rose knew better than to disturb the mighty Belinda with a
personal matter.
That left Bridie and Arnolde, and she found
them both in the kitchen, Arnolde preparing lunch and Bridie sipping a cup of
tea.
"Well, now, that's mighty fine news,
mighty fine," Arnolde congratulated her. "Y'ain't gon' leave us now,
are ya?"
"No, I'll still be around to bother
you."
"Aw, you ain't no bother, Rose." He
went into the pantry in search of some ingredient or another, leaving Rose
alone with Bridie.
"Congratulations," Bridie said,
and, to Rose's surprise, she gave her a warm smile. "I'm happy fer ya, I
am. Always told Meg you were too smart a gal fer this."
Rose did a double take. This was a new one on
her. "Um--thank you," she said.
"Yer welcome." Bridie finished her
tea and stood; suddenly she swayed and caught the edge of the table. Rose
darted forward and grabbed her about the shoulders. For the first time she
noticed how pale Bridie was.
"I'm all right, thank you," Bridie
gasped, sinking back into the chair. "'Tis to be expected for a woman in
me condition."
Rose's jaw dropped. "You're--"
"With child, yes," Bridie laughed.
"I'm surprised Meg didn't tell ya. I found out in August."
So Meg could keep a secret. That was
comforting.
Bridie's next words were not so comforting.
"I have to say, I've been worried, seein' what's happened with poor
Cecilia. I don't know how 'er parents are gonna manage when I'm gone."
She grew quiet, perhaps sensing that nothing
more needed to be said. With Victoria disinclined to even search for a new
nanny and William too busy, what would happen when another servant left?