Just what call we would have to stand against the world I did not understand. Being ready to do my best as secretary to the matron of St. Rose, I graciously accepted her greeting and the compliments that appeared to belong to it. Walking between the two I passed down the broad stairs and into the private office of the head of the institution.
Confidently expecting to spend the summer in this charming place I glanced about the room that was to be my headquarters. Like every part of the house that I had seen, this room was spotlessly clean and furnished tastefully.
Sprays of ivy moved by the breeze peeked in at the two broad windows that, opening on the street, were shaded from the direct rays of the sun by the low-sweeping limbs of the elm. From the windows my eyes travelled to the walls. I met the gaze of several bewhiskered gentlemen of solemn countenance in clerical garb and black frames.
My secretarial duties, as then outlined to me, would consume about two hours each morning, excepting Sundays. Once I had finished this daily stint my time was to be my own to do with as I preferred.
“Only,” Mrs. Bossman added smilingly, “Miss Pugh and I both hope that you will spend at least a few evenings with us in my private sitting-room.”
Why did Mrs. Davis’ caution against blonde women keep bobbing up in my mind? Ah, why indeed!
Being in my room when the lunch-bell sounded, I was a fraction of a minute late entering the dining-room. A woman whom I had never seen met me and introduced herself as the housekeeper. She gave me as my permanent place a chair at a long table about which there were already seated eighteen women.
When I had taken my chair the housekeeper took her seat and introduced me to the other women. As each name was called the owner would glance up at me, nod her head, and then drop her eyes back to her plate of soup. Never a smile, not one word. The soup finished, while they waited for the next course I noticed that three or four women spoke to their next neighbors, always so low that they seemed to whisper.
Was this the effect of the presence of a stranger? I wondered. If so it was up to me to break the ice. Selecting for my first attack a handsome woman with red hair, who sat just across the table from me, I inquired in what capacity she was connected with St. Rose.