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Authors: M. Louisa Locke
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cheek. They were in the smaller parlor where Annie met clients as Madam Sibyl. At half-past six in the evening, her boarders would soon be finishing their meal and moving next door to the larger formal parlor, and Nate needed privacy to discuss the case with Annie. He’d asked Kathleen to tell his sister Laura to join them when she finished eating.
Meanwhile, he wanted to take advantage of the rare time alone with Annie, so he said, “She hasn’t confessed, but I will report all about my visit when Laura gets here. First, tell me how your visit to the Methodist Chinese Mission went yesterday. You weren’t late, were you?”
“The meeting was very productive,” said Annie. “You know that I’d convinced Mrs. Greenstock and her fellow directors of the Female Refuge to invest five percent of any bequests they get. Well, after four months of following my advice, they have been able to increase their reserve fund by twenty percent. And I was spot on time, no thanks to you.”
Since one of Annie’s clients, the Methodist refuge that rescued Chinese women from prostitution and abusive masters, was only two streets down from the Old City Hall and the jail, Nate had accompanied her there before going to his appointment with Chief Jackson. The weather was so lovely, however, that he convinced her to get off the omnibus and walk the last few blocks up Stockton Street with him.
He loved walking with Annie; she would tuck her hand in the crook of his arm and gamely try to match her stride to his, laughing when they would pause at a street corner so she could catch her breath. He still couldn’t believe that in less than two months they would be married, and he would be able to take a walk with her any time he wanted. And not have to go home at the end of an evening together.
“What are you smiling about, Nate?” Annie said.
“Oh, just thinking about how much I am going to enjoy living here.”
“You won’t feel crowded? Of course, in the evenings this will be our private parlor, and I was thinking we could move in a desk so that it could double as an office for you...I have the back room...”
“Annie, sweetheart, stop worrying. I’ve told you how tiny and cramped my attic room is at Mrs. McPherson’s. This will be like living in a palace.”
Nate leaned over to kiss the tiny furrow that again appeared between her eyebrows, and he was about to move down to her lips when noise from the hallway informed him that the dinner was over. Disappointed, he had to be satisfied with giving her a swift peck on the cheek, and he moved away to put a decorous few inches between them. From experience, he knew that at least Miss Minnie Moffet, the talkative of the two elderly dressmaking sisters who lived in the attic, would stick her head in coyly to say good evening on the way to the parlor across the hall.
*****
S everal minutes later, as Miss Minnie and her sister Miss Millie finished offering their congratulations to Nate and Annie and moved across the hall, Laura, who’d come in with them, asked cheerfully, “So you two, have you been discussing wedding plans?”
Laura had rather enjoyed watching her older brother’s discomfort as Miss Minnie went on and on about what a gentleman he was and how pleased they were that he was going to be joining “their little family” at the boarding house. Miss Millie, as usual, said nothing but emphatically nodded her agreement with her older sister’s sentiments.
“We haven’t had a chance,” Annie said. “But there is plenty of time for that. Come pull that chair over so we can converse more easily and do shut the door first so we won’t be disturbed. Your brother was going to tell us about the grand jury indictment of Mrs. Sullivan.”
“And then I must tell you what I learned from Iris Bailor, my forewoman at the WCPU. No, Nate, I am perfectly capable of dragging a chair two feet,” Laura said as she shooed him back to the settee.
Annie laughed. Then more seriously
Meanwhile, he wanted to take advantage of the rare time alone with Annie, so he said, “She hasn’t confessed, but I will report all about my visit when Laura gets here. First, tell me how your visit to the Methodist Chinese Mission went yesterday. You weren’t late, were you?”
“The meeting was very productive,” said Annie. “You know that I’d convinced Mrs. Greenstock and her fellow directors of the Female Refuge to invest five percent of any bequests they get. Well, after four months of following my advice, they have been able to increase their reserve fund by twenty percent. And I was spot on time, no thanks to you.”
Since one of Annie’s clients, the Methodist refuge that rescued Chinese women from prostitution and abusive masters, was only two streets down from the Old City Hall and the jail, Nate had accompanied her there before going to his appointment with Chief Jackson. The weather was so lovely, however, that he convinced her to get off the omnibus and walk the last few blocks up Stockton Street with him.
He loved walking with Annie; she would tuck her hand in the crook of his arm and gamely try to match her stride to his, laughing when they would pause at a street corner so she could catch her breath. He still couldn’t believe that in less than two months they would be married, and he would be able to take a walk with her any time he wanted. And not have to go home at the end of an evening together.
“What are you smiling about, Nate?” Annie said.
“Oh, just thinking about how much I am going to enjoy living here.”
“You won’t feel crowded? Of course, in the evenings this will be our private parlor, and I was thinking we could move in a desk so that it could double as an office for you...I have the back room...”
“Annie, sweetheart, stop worrying. I’ve told you how tiny and cramped my attic room is at Mrs. McPherson’s. This will be like living in a palace.”
Nate leaned over to kiss the tiny furrow that again appeared between her eyebrows, and he was about to move down to her lips when noise from the hallway informed him that the dinner was over. Disappointed, he had to be satisfied with giving her a swift peck on the cheek, and he moved away to put a decorous few inches between them. From experience, he knew that at least Miss Minnie Moffet, the talkative of the two elderly dressmaking sisters who lived in the attic, would stick her head in coyly to say good evening on the way to the parlor across the hall.
*****
S everal minutes later, as Miss Minnie and her sister Miss Millie finished offering their congratulations to Nate and Annie and moved across the hall, Laura, who’d come in with them, asked cheerfully, “So you two, have you been discussing wedding plans?”
Laura had rather enjoyed watching her older brother’s discomfort as Miss Minnie went on and on about what a gentleman he was and how pleased they were that he was going to be joining “their little family” at the boarding house. Miss Millie, as usual, said nothing but emphatically nodded her agreement with her older sister’s sentiments.
“We haven’t had a chance,” Annie said. “But there is plenty of time for that. Come pull that chair over so we can converse more easily and do shut the door first so we won’t be disturbed. Your brother was going to tell us about the grand jury indictment of Mrs. Sullivan.”
“And then I must tell you what I learned from Iris Bailor, my forewoman at the WCPU. No, Nate, I am perfectly capable of dragging a chair two feet,” Laura said as she shooed him back to the settee.
Annie laughed. Then more seriously
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