Read Online Family of the Heart by Dorothy Clark - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Dorothy Clark
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fashionable style.
Sarah checked her reflection in the window. The flowers adorning her silk hat trembled slightly in the warm breeze. She adjusted the tilt of the hat, smoothed the lace at her throat and entered. A cluster of women examining trimmings displayed in a glass case, and two women seated on a settee studying a book of patterns, glanced up at the discreet tinkle of the small bell on the door. The women looked at her with varying degrees of curiosity, gave small, polite nods and returned to their business.
“If you will excuse me a moment, ladies.” The woman behind the glass case smiled and came forward. “Welcome to Mrs. Westerfield’s salon. May I help you?”
“I would like to speak with Mrs. Westerfield please.”
“Certainly. I will be a moment. If you would care to have a seat?” The woman gestured toward a grouping of chairs, walked to a door at the back, gave a light tap and disappeared into another room.
Sarah strolled over to look at a display of paintings on the wall. Bits of conversation from the women at the counter drifted her way as she studied the drawings of the latest fashions.
“—heard that Rose Southernby has taken to her bed?”
“Oh, I do like this red silk braid!”
“Did you say Rose is ill?”
“Yes. Dr. Lambert has been making daily calls. She is not at all well, and—The red silk braid is a little…bright, Charlotte. Perhaps the gold…”
“You were saying, Gladys?”
“I beg your pardon? Oh. Yes. I heard the Southernby children are stricken also.”
Children. Sarah moved a step closer to the women.
“I’m becoming frightened by all this sickness!”
“I share your fear, Isobel. I have ordered the servants to open our country home. It is early, I know, but I am not going to stay in this city and—”
“Mrs. Westerfield awaits you, miss.”
Sarah walked to the back of the room and stepped through the door the woman held for her. A tall woman in a beautiful day dress of ecru pongee with a crossover shawl collar banded in white stood behind a desk. She swept an assessing gaze over Sarah’s hat and dress, smiled and came forward. “That will be all, Jeanne.”
The door closed. Sarah waited.
“I am Mrs. Westerfield. You wished to see me?”
“Yes. I have recently come to Cincinnati and I am interviewing dressmakers as I find myself in immediate need of a few gowns.”
A faint flush appeared on Mrs. Westerfield’s cheeks. “I assure you, Miss…”
“Randolph.”
“—Miss Randolph, I make the finest, most stylish gowns in Cincinnati. If you will permit me to show you a few of my recent designs.” Mrs. Westerfield turned and led the way toward a settee.
Sarah smiled and seated herself, looked with interest at the sketches the dressmaker handed her. “And was your gown made by you or a seamstress in your employ, Mrs. Westerfield?” She eyed the excellent workmanship of the woman’s day dress.
“I designed my frock, and Miss Bernard, my highly skilled head seamstress, crafted the dress. I would not wear the work of another, Miss Randolph.”
“Nor will I.” Sarah handed Mrs. Westerfield three sketches. “These are the gowns I have chosen. Please have Miss Bernard make them in your highest quality fabrics, one in ecru, one in brown, and one in dark blue. But I do not want the lavish adornments, only simple trims suitable for a nanny. I want them commissioned immediately and delivered to Stony Point when they are completed.”
“I shall select the fabrics and trim myself, Miss Randolph.” Mrs. Westerfield smiled. “And please forgive my confusion. I thought the gowns you have ordered were for you. Miss Bernard will begin work on them as soon as the nanny comes in for a fitting.”
“You have made no error, Mrs. Westerfield. The gowns are for me. I am the new nanny at Stony Point.” Sarah ignored the look of astonishment that flashed over the dressmaker’s face and rose to her feet. “I have another appointment, so if you will
Sarah checked her reflection in the window. The flowers adorning her silk hat trembled slightly in the warm breeze. She adjusted the tilt of the hat, smoothed the lace at her throat and entered. A cluster of women examining trimmings displayed in a glass case, and two women seated on a settee studying a book of patterns, glanced up at the discreet tinkle of the small bell on the door. The women looked at her with varying degrees of curiosity, gave small, polite nods and returned to their business.
“If you will excuse me a moment, ladies.” The woman behind the glass case smiled and came forward. “Welcome to Mrs. Westerfield’s salon. May I help you?”
“I would like to speak with Mrs. Westerfield please.”
“Certainly. I will be a moment. If you would care to have a seat?” The woman gestured toward a grouping of chairs, walked to a door at the back, gave a light tap and disappeared into another room.
Sarah strolled over to look at a display of paintings on the wall. Bits of conversation from the women at the counter drifted her way as she studied the drawings of the latest fashions.
“—heard that Rose Southernby has taken to her bed?”
“Oh, I do like this red silk braid!”
“Did you say Rose is ill?”
“Yes. Dr. Lambert has been making daily calls. She is not at all well, and—The red silk braid is a little…bright, Charlotte. Perhaps the gold…”
“You were saying, Gladys?”
“I beg your pardon? Oh. Yes. I heard the Southernby children are stricken also.”
Children. Sarah moved a step closer to the women.
“I’m becoming frightened by all this sickness!”
“I share your fear, Isobel. I have ordered the servants to open our country home. It is early, I know, but I am not going to stay in this city and—”
“Mrs. Westerfield awaits you, miss.”
Sarah walked to the back of the room and stepped through the door the woman held for her. A tall woman in a beautiful day dress of ecru pongee with a crossover shawl collar banded in white stood behind a desk. She swept an assessing gaze over Sarah’s hat and dress, smiled and came forward. “That will be all, Jeanne.”
The door closed. Sarah waited.
“I am Mrs. Westerfield. You wished to see me?”
“Yes. I have recently come to Cincinnati and I am interviewing dressmakers as I find myself in immediate need of a few gowns.”
A faint flush appeared on Mrs. Westerfield’s cheeks. “I assure you, Miss…”
“Randolph.”
“—Miss Randolph, I make the finest, most stylish gowns in Cincinnati. If you will permit me to show you a few of my recent designs.” Mrs. Westerfield turned and led the way toward a settee.
Sarah smiled and seated herself, looked with interest at the sketches the dressmaker handed her. “And was your gown made by you or a seamstress in your employ, Mrs. Westerfield?” She eyed the excellent workmanship of the woman’s day dress.
“I designed my frock, and Miss Bernard, my highly skilled head seamstress, crafted the dress. I would not wear the work of another, Miss Randolph.”
“Nor will I.” Sarah handed Mrs. Westerfield three sketches. “These are the gowns I have chosen. Please have Miss Bernard make them in your highest quality fabrics, one in ecru, one in brown, and one in dark blue. But I do not want the lavish adornments, only simple trims suitable for a nanny. I want them commissioned immediately and delivered to Stony Point when they are completed.”
“I shall select the fabrics and trim myself, Miss Randolph.” Mrs. Westerfield smiled. “And please forgive my confusion. I thought the gowns you have ordered were for you. Miss Bernard will begin work on them as soon as the nanny comes in for a fitting.”
“You have made no error, Mrs. Westerfield. The gowns are for me. I am the new nanny at Stony Point.” Sarah ignored the look of astonishment that flashed over the dressmaker’s face and rose to her feet. “I have another appointment, so if you will
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