Maud

Happy Valentine’s Day!

We miss you. If you were here, I would take you for a long drive with Plato under warm blankets and then return to my Aunt Kennedy’s for hot chocolate. Too cold for a picnic right now but there would be candies. (Hopefully these will make up for it.)

As part of your Valentine’s gift, I am finally fulfilling a promise I made to you last summer. I saved up enough to get my photograph done. It was taken this past Christmas in Goschen. When you look at it, know that I was thinking of you. Laura came with and we put on our “Sunday Best” and paraded into the photographer’s studio. What do you think? I’m not sure it looks like me. As you know I’m much more comfortable in my work clothes. But, I can’t have you remembering me in dirty trousers and a cowboy hat—or perhaps you’d prefer that?

This is in exchange for the photograph you took when you were last in Charlottetown. I’ve placed it near my bedside table, inches away from a certain carving.

I keep thinking of ways to come and visit you. I thought of getting extra work in town, but when I broached the idea with Father, he said if I had enough time to work for others, then I must have more hours in the day to work for him. So he’s put me in charge of breaking in two new colts. They are pretty wild things, but as you know, I like to keep a little of their nature intact—respecting their nature is how to win their hearts.

All my love,

Will

P. S. Note, not one mistake this time. Laura has been helping me and my hands aren’t so shaky anymore. They just miss touching you.



While it was pleasant sitting by the fire reading his letter and munching on candies, she would have preferred the writer more than his gifts. She pressed the photo close to her chest and closed her eyes, remembering how good it felt to be held and kissed by him that day near Maiden Lake. She was still haunted by their final painful farewell…but this picture made it seem almost as if he were with her. She had been given a frame for Christmas and had been waiting for the perfect picture to put inside. She also knew where she would put it: on her bookshelf next to her bureau so he would be close by when she worked.

“Are you in one of your dream worlds, Maud? I’ve called your name three times now,” her grandmother said.

Maud placed the photo safely back in the letter. “Sorry, Grandma, what is it?”

“I have already spoken with your grandfather about this. I am planning a short trip to Park Corner while the weather holds.”

Maud hadn’t seen Aunt Annie since she had stayed at Park Corner last fall. “Oh, how lovely. May I come?”

Grandma put down her embroidery and shook her head. “I need you here to take care of your grandfather. He shouldn’t be here on his own.”

“But he hates the way I do things.”

“He’s particular, true,” Grandma said, and started stitching again. “But I’ve spoken to him, and I’ll be sure to talk with him again before I leave. He’ll agree.”

Maud was sure that no manner of talking would change Grandfather’s attitude, but she promised her grandmother she would do her best.



“So, I have some interesting news,” Grandma said to Grandfather three nights after her return from Park Corner. “Annie and I had a long talk about the girls. You know Stella and Clara are getting older, only a couple of years younger than Maud, and they haven’t had much in the way of a musical education.” She took a sip of water. “They need a music teacher, and I suggested Maud would do nicely.”

Maud almost choked on her chicken pie. She’d thought that her grandmother had completely forgotten their conversation in November.

“Isn’t that what Mrs. Spurr had said to you?” She turned to Maud. “That you had sufficient schooling to teach?”

“You know how I feel about women teaching—” Grandfather began.

“Yes, I am well acquainted with your feelings.” Grandma scooped up some peas and put them on his plate. “But this isn’t regular teaching in a school. Maud could go and stay with her cousins for a few months and show them what she knows.”

Grandfather forked some peas into his mouth.

“Maud will be paid a small sum,” Grandma went on. “We paid Mrs. Spurr fourteen dollars per one term of lessons and so, given this is your first time, Annie suggested ten dollars. This would include your room and board.”

Maud was stunned into silence.

“I cannot believe you went behind my back and arranged this without consulting me,” Grandfather said.

Maud couldn’t either. But it would pay for a term at Prince of Wales College. And if she sold a story or two…Maybe…

But how could her cousins afford it with such a large family?

“Calm down. I certainly didn’t agree to anything yet. If you don’t agree, I’ll write Annie this evening and tell her to find another teacher.”

“Mrs. Spurr is the Baptist minister’s wife, and she’s still a respectable woman.” Grandfather was speaking more to himself now than to them.

Grandma continued to eat.

“It would certainly mean all of that money spent on Maud’s lessons wouldn’t have gone to waste,” Grandfather mused.

Maud’s hand was shaking so badly that it made eating her peas difficult. She put her fork down. The idea was interesting. How would she work college preparation into this scheme? Maybe this was Grandma’s way of refocusing her attention away from school? If Grandfather agreed, they were going to ship her off no matter how she felt about it. Unless Grandfather said no—but from the way he was talking, it was as good as done. At least it was Park Corner and not with Aunt Emily in Malpeque.

“Very well,” Grandfather finally said. “Better Annie pay Maud than some stranger.”

“Wonderful,” Grandma said. “I’m glad you agree.” She turned to Maud. “I’ll send word to Annie that you will come within the next two weeks.”

“What about my work with Miss Gordon?” Maud said.

“School has been closed because of the weather,” Grandma said. “Besides, she wouldn’t want to stand in the way of this opportunity.”

“No,” Maud said. “I suspect she wouldn’t.” And she picked up her fork and finished her chicken pie.





PARK CORNER, PRINCE EDWARD ISLAND MARCH 1892





CHAPTER EIGHT


Maud arrived at Park Corner on a snowy Saturday afternoon in March. At first, she hadn’t been sure where to begin. Mrs. Spurr had given Maud some books and tips, but she knew that whatever followed would involve improvisation. As they continued, Maud discovered that Frede actually showed quite an affinity for music; the hours she spent teaching her cousin were some of the most pleasurable she had spent in a long time.

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