The Gilded Hour

The boy bared a mouthful of rotten teeth in something approximating a grin. “Eighteen hundred and sixty-two, the first of September. We celebrate it every year.”


Jack grimaced. “The industrious younger members of the Boodle gang decided to take advantage of hundreds of people crushed half to death by helping themselves to wallets and pocketbooks and watches and the like. Trotter here didn’t trot away fast enough, so he’s off to the Tombs.”

“Fine by me,” the boy said. “Could use a rest.”

Jack’s expression wasn’t hard to read, disgust and exasperation layered on top of each other. He glanced around the lobby. “I’ll let the patrolmen match up these little ones with their folks. Be back here in an hour to walk you home.”

And then he was gone before Anna could say even one more word.

? ? ?

SHE EXPECTED HIM to come back in a dark mood, but there was no sign of that at all; beyond the torn clothes it might have been any normal day. More than that, Jack recognized the former Sister Mary Augustin right away, which Anna found just a little irritating. His powers of observation were superior to her own in some very specific ways that had to do with his profession: he had an uncanny memory for faces, something she had never been very good at for reasons Aunt Quinlan would attribute to her introverted nature.

He gave them what news he had about the trouble at the new bridge. “Panic,” he said. “One person falls, another person screams, ‘The bridge is coming down!’ And they’re off like a herd of buffalo across the prairie.”

There were twelve confirmed dead, and twice as many injured, many of those in hospitals, from St. Vincent’s to Bellevue. To Elise he said, “An exciting day to move into the city, though I’m sure you could have done without it. I wonder what Mrs. Lee has got for dinner; I am starving.”

Anna told Jack about Elise’s plans, drawing her into the conversation wherever possible.

“Sophie’s room is available,” Anna said to her. “You are welcome to stay until you’ve gotten settled. You may want to live in the nurses’ boardinghouse for convenience alone. But I can predict with some confidence that my aunt will ask you to stay on.”

She paused. “Another thing is your clothes. You’ll need new—”

“Everything,” Elise supplied. “This dress is ugly, I know. But my funds are also extremely limited.”

Jack said, “We’ll cover your expenses until you get your first pay envelope. It would be our pleasure.”

Elise dropped her eyes and looked away, apparently embarrassed by Jack’s offer. Anna was trying to sort out the reason for it, but Jack got there first.

“Of course,” he said. “You don’t have any way of knowing. There’s nothing improper about the offer. I managed to persuade Anna to marry me, just this past Saturday. So you see, you’re not the only one with surprising news.”

“Oh,” Elise said, flustered. “May I—should I—wish you every happiness?”

“Thank you,” Anna said, almost as embarrassed as Elise was herself.

“It’s very good of you to wish Anna every happiness,” Jack said with a grin. “But you’re supposed to congratulate me. Apparently it’s rude to do it the other way around, or so my sisters claim.”

“She’s confused enough as it is,” Anna said. “Have mercy.”

“No, it’s all right. I have to learn. So I congratulate you, Detective Sergeant Mezzanotte, and wish Dr. Savard every happiness.”

Elise Mercier was practical, intelligent, and eager to learn, and Anna sensed in her a steadfast dedication. Women who pursued medicine as a profession had to be stubborn, but most of all they had to have the courage of their convictions. It seemed to her that Elise did. She hoped she was right.

She was saying, “And I would be thankful if you would help me with a few dresses and a pair of shoes—” She looked at her feet with a slightly bemused expression. “And I will, of course, repay everything. Including room and board, for as long as I stay with you. If you are really sure.”

Anna said, “I am really sure, and I know Aunt Quinlan and Mrs. Lee will both be very happy to have you. Mr. and Mrs. Lee are Catholic, so you won’t be entirely out of familiar territory.”

Some of the color left the girl’s face. “They won’t approve.”

“They will approve,” Anna said. “I can promise you that much. What I can’t promise you is that Aunt Quinlan will take any money from you, no matter how long you stay. If anything is likely to put her in a sour mood, it would be you insisting on paying her for room and board. She won’t have it.”

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