Maud kicked her heels against the bedspread, her brows knit in frustration. “You must be mad. A bird with clipped wings can’t fly. It just hops around in the most pathetic sort of way, and when a cat comes…!” Maud made a loud gulping sound, pretending to be a cat swallowing a meal. “You don’t want to be that bird, and neither do I! Can I tell you the most incredible thing? My dearest friend, Josie, once gave me the advice to try to act like an aspidistra plant that stands in a pot in the corner of one of the rooms.”
Julia’s eyes sparkled with laughter, and the hand resting upon her lap began to shake. Her sister was trying desperately not to laugh—so Maud poked her in the stomach. “Oh, go on….You think it’s funny!”
Julia laughed out loud. “An aspidistra plant. Now, imagine that!”
Maud leaned in and whispered earnestly: “I don’t think that’s the answer—clipping our wings and planting our feet. Why, if we do that, how are we any better than the heathen Chinamen who bind their ladies’ feet?”
“Well, you’ve got nothing to worry about. You just can’t be repressed—believe me, I’ve tried.”
Maud was about to snap back another retort, but when she focused on her sister’s face, she bit her tongue. Had her sister always had those fine lines around her eyes? And was that a single silver strand cutting through her fawn-brown hair? At nineteen, Maud felt just barely grown up, but Julia was twenty-nine, and how much smaller was her world, here at home, with Papa sick and Mother too busy with her suffrage work to handle the family affairs? Couldn’t she tolerate her sister’s chiding on her first day home from school?
“You know what?” Maud said, changing the subject. “Josie—my roommate, you remember—has invited me to come to her house for a Christmas party. She wants me to meet her first cousin.”
Now Julia looked interested. “A young man?” she asked.
“Yes, indeed,” said Maud, but then her cheery face was taken over by storm clouds. “I’m sure he will hate me! Or laugh at me!”
“But why would you think that?”
“You have no idea. The Cornell boys despise me—they hate me once for being Maud, and twice for being Matilda’s daughter.”
Julia picked at an imaginary piece of lint on the counterpane and then smoothed the front of her dress. Maud noticed just the slightest shadow crossing her sister’s face, so fleeting that no one but a sister would have caught it. It had never occurred to Maud that Julia also might have had trouble finding suitors because of Matilda’s reputation.
Maud regarded her sister’s funny face, framed with a frizz of loose curls that never seemed to want to lie right. As she took in her intelligent eyes and her short broad nose, she felt a familiar stab of emotion. Deep down, she knew that her sister wanted nothing more than what any maiden wanted: a household of her own to run. And yet this ordinary dream seemed so elusive for Julia.
“I suppose we’re not particularly marriageable!” Maud said with sudden conviction. “Who wishes to take the hand of the dog who tries to bite it!”
“Maud!” Julia exclaimed in mock horror, but then she couldn’t help laughing.
“Neither of us married,” Maud said. “From what I hear, there are not enough women to go around out in Dakota…” Maud pushed her sister’s arm. “Perhaps you should go visit T.C.!” Their brother had moved to Dakota Territory several years ago. “You might make quite an impression out on the frontier.”
Julia covered her mouth with her hand, but not before Maud saw that she was hiding a smile.
“I have a beau. His name is James Carpenter. He’s trying to get enough money together to stake a claim in Dakota.”
“Julia!” Maud flung her arms around her sister in excitement. “This is the most wonderful news! Do you think you’ll get engaged?”
“I’m not sure. I don’t want to leave with Papa so ill, and James doesn’t have a lot of money. He’s a bit younger than I am,” Julia whispered. “Don’t be shocked.”
“Younger?”
“Just twenty,” Julia said.
Maud tried to hide her surprise. “You have almost a full decade on him? Why, he’s closer to my age than yours!” Maud placed her hand on her sister’s arm. “Are you sure that’s wise? It’s much more usual for the age difference to fall in the other direction.”
Julia’s face took on a stubborn cast. “I don’t find you to be so worried about conventions when it’s your own life you’re considering. Has it occurred to you, my beautiful baby sister, that my options have dwindled, that I might have to make the best of what is offered? I do love Mother, but she is so trying.”
“Oh, but what difference does it make how old he is!” Maud said. “Of course you need your own household. Let us not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments! It is a marriage of true minds, my sweet Julia, isn’t it?”
Julia continued to pick at the counterpane.
“He’s not got much capital, but with what I bring along it will be enough to start up a small farm in Dakota. You won’t stand in the way of my happiness, will you, Maudie darling? You’ve no idea what it feels like to have you gone and be left here behind. It’s time for me to lead my own life!”
Maud fell silent, contemplating her sister’s serious expression. “If you love him, I love him, too. What do Mother and Papa say?”
Julia held a finger up to her lips. “Mother doesn’t know. We won’t tell her until our plan is almost set. As for Papa…” Julia turned and looked out the window.
“Is Papa truly so ill?” Maud asked. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
“Mother didn’t want to worry you and distract you from your studies.”
So much had happened since Maud’s departure. Julia with a beau and Papa so sick. How could everything have changed in that short time?
“Come now,” Julia said. “What about this young man you are supposed to meet?” Clearly, Julia didn’t want to dwell on Papa’s illness, so Maud did her best to answer. “I don’t know much about him—but listen to this: He’s in the theater. He travels all over, putting on plays.”
“The theater? That hardly sounds appropriate. Mother won’t want to hear of it. She wants you to focus on your studies.”
Maud looked out the window. “I try so hard to be grateful. I know how much Mother and Papa have sacrificed to send me to the university. I wish I liked it better, but I just don’t.”
“You won’t quit, will you? Mother would be crushed!”
Maud picked up her feather pillow and swatted her sister so that bits of feather floated out and caught the amber afternoon sunlight beaming in the window. “Don’t breathe a word to Mother.” Maud whacked her sister with the pillow again. “I’m desperately trying to like it. I really am!”
* * *
—
ON CHRISTMAS EVE, the weather was cold and snowy. Josie’s family was sending a sleigh to fetch Maud the eight miles to Syracuse. At half past four, the Baums’ driver reined the two-horse team to a halt in front of Maud’s house, helped her settle in her seat, and tucked her in warmly under thick layers of robes. Maud greeted her fellow passengers, some relations of the Baums who lived in the neighboring town of Manlius. Sleigh bells chimed as the party glided along the road that led from Fayetteville to Syracuse. Thick white flakes swirled through the air, and her breath came out in white puffs. Her hands were encased in a fur muff, resting on top of the heavy wool robes. Bundled in a thick wool coat and scarf, with the luxurious folds of her crimson velvet dress hidden underneath, she was warm, but she still shivered in anticipation of the evening’s festivities.
Maud had convinced herself that she was not interested in meeting a young man, any young man. She had spent more time avoiding the gentlemen at Cornell than getting to know them. Meeting this itinerant theater man—such a peculiar profession—was certain to be awkward, and no matter how much Josie had boasted of her cousin’s charm, Maud was sure she wouldn’t fall for it. She was not in the market for a suitor. Her job was to pursue her studies.
A large pine wreath hung on the door of the Baum residence, a comfortable Italianate-style house on one of Syracuse’s most beautiful streets. Through the front door’s beveled glass, shadows moved, and then the door swung open with a tinkling of bells. Josie greeted Maud and her traveling companions warmly, helped her off with her coat, and admired her Christmas dress. Over her friend’s shoulder, the room was crowded with revelers.
“He’s in the front parlor,” Josie leaned in to whisper conspiratorially. Then, louder: “Come in, come in!”
Josie led Maud into a spacious parlor. In the corner stood a giant, richly scented northern pine, festooned with sugarplums, ribbons, tin cutouts, and glowing candles. A gentleman was playing Christmas carols at the piano, and a group was singing; others stood in clusters, chatting gaily. Josie stepped away to greet a new group of guests at the door. Maud felt suddenly shy—she did not know any of the Baum family—but a moment later, a large woman with a shiny red face, dressed in emerald velvet, took Maud’s arm in hers.
“You must be Maud Gage. You are just as pretty as my daughter said. She has told me so much about you!” Maud took an instant liking to Josie’s mother, and she followed her deeper into the parlor.