“But the policeman’s helmet?”
“Oh, yes.” Gus put her hand up to her head. “I’d forgotten about that. You see, Molly, we were trying to decide on a theme for your party. We thought a policemen’s and prostitutes’ ball might be fun, in honor of Daniel, you know. So I was just trying out whether I wanted to be a policeman or a prostitute.”
I started to laugh again. “My future mother-in-law was so impressed that I was going to a party hosted by one of the Boston Walcotts,” I said. “If she could only see you now!”
They joined in my laughter. “As stuffy as you feared, is she?” Sid asked, leading the way to the kitchen and taking a jug of lemonade from the ice chest.
“Worse,” I said. “My sewing skills are a disaster. I’ve had to have luncheon and tea with any number of her friends, where it has been hinted that Daniel was expected to make a much better match than me. You would have been so proud of me—I remained calm and demure throughout. Not one hasty word passed my lips. Close to sainthood, I’d say. But I couldn’t have stood it much longer. Any moment I was about to scream and hit someone with a croquet mallet. So your letter was a godsend.”
They were still smiling at me, as if I was an adored child returned to the fold. Sid led us through to their conservatory at the back of the kitchen and indicated that we sit in the shade of large potted palms that gave the space the feel of a jungle. She brought through a tray with lemonade and glasses.
“So you fled at the first opportunity,” Sid said.
I nodded. “It was the excuse I was waiting for. Honestly, I’m not designed for genteel idleness. I don’t know what I’ll do with myself when I’m married and have nothing to do but cook for Daniel and keep the house clean.”
“So you are going to remain true to your promise then.”
“I have little choice. Daniel’s career must come first.”
“Why?” Sid asked.
“Because—because he is the man and the breadwinner, and because he already has a flourishing career,” I said with slight hesitation.
“I suppose so,” Sid agreed with a sigh. “So you will have no interest in the calling card Gus mentioned in her letter. We should just throw it away, should we?”
They were watching me expectantly. I saw the smile twitch on Sid’s lips.
“I’m not married yet,” I said. “I can still make my own decisions. And if this proved to be a lucrative proposition—well, I think it’s healthy for a bride to start marriage with some money of her own, don’t you?”
Sid shook her head, smiling, went back into the house, and returned with the calling card.
“Frederick Lee.” I examined it, then looked up. “Is this the card of the important man or his emissary?”
“The emissary,” Gus said. “He wouldn’t give his employer’s name. Rather secretive about it, in fact.”
“And no hint of what kind of assignment this was?”
“None at all. I didn’t take to him, if you want to know—there was something in his air that seemed to say that you should be honored that he had selected you, and that there was no way you’d turn down the commission.”
“Probably a divorce then,” I said. “A rich man who didn’t want his identity known. In which case I won’t take it. I don’t care how much he offers me. I find it too sordid sneaking around and trying to catch people in compromising situations.”
“Hear, hear!” Sid said. “Our laws are so antiquated. When a couple no longer wishes to remain married, they should be able to shake hands and part amicably, without all this ridiculous subterfuge. If Gus and I ever decided to part ways, I know we’d be most civilized about it. Wouldn’t we, Gus?”
“I don’t want to think about it.” Gus turned away.
“Not that we ever will,” Sid said hastily.
I turned over Mr. Lee’s card. “His office is on the Bowery,” I said. “Hardly the best of addresses. I wonder what his employer does for a living?”
“I agree it’s not Fifth Avenue, but it’s quite respectable in its upper reaches around Cooper Union. Perhaps the employer is a lawyer,” Gus suggested. “I know I’ve seen law offices around there.… So are you going to pay him a call?”
I looked up from the card. “Why not? What have I got to lose? Just as long as Daniel doesn’t find out.”
“Our lips, as always, will be sealed,” Sid said.
“Now you must let Sid show you the wonderful articles she is writing,” Gus said. “The history of the suffrage movement. Most edifying and illuminating. Take Molly upstairs and show her the one you are writing at the moment, Sid.”
“I haven’t polished that one yet,” Sid said. “The prose is still rather rough. But she can read the one that was published this week.”