Jane Was Here (24 page)

Monday Father was ill again. Mr. Graynier sent Uli Haff to inquire when Papa would be well enough to resume his duties at the factory. He is losing patience with Father on account of his increasing absences, and it’s possible he will replace Papa with Uli before long. In truth my father seems resigned to it, and says Uli would make a fine superintendent (here he casts me a meaningful look).

On Tuesday came our invitations to the Workingmen’s Ball. Rebecca insisted on going to the dressmaker for a new frock, and then the milliner for a bonnet, and I could not persuade her to any other destination. I had rather stay at home than indulge such caprices, particularly (as I told her) when we must make economies. She retorted that Father would approve of her purchases, as he wants to get rid of her and she must use any means at her disposal to attract a husband. I was quite vexed by the end of our excursion, having to hurry by Mrs. Seeley’s house on the way home without a hope of visiting, as it was fast growing dark.

Perhaps the next days will bring me a chance to get away. We must both pray God for patience!

Your fond friend,
Jane

Dear Mr. Trane,

The Almighty is testing our resolve indeed. He has granted our most cherished objective, yet at the same time deprived us of the communion we sought. Oh my friend, what a torture was yesterday afternoon, to be in your company at last, yet have no opportunity for discourse other than a few impersonal words of salutation and farewell, and nothing in between.

I grant that we must keep our friendship a secret, but was it necessary to avoid looking at me entirely and pay heed only to my sister? Over and over I endeavored to catch your eye, to read something within, something to sustain me, yet you never met my gaze. Were you afraid that mere glances would disclose our relation to Rebecca and Mrs. Seeley? The latter is already “in the know,” having observed so many missives migrate from Letty’s pocket to your hand and back again! And how could you bear Rebecca’s prattling about last month’s weather and next month’s ball, and her silly attempts at religious dissertation, she who has scant interest in spiritual matters? You seemed instead to encourage her prolixity. I thought I would scream when she most improperly requested a fourth cup of tea, simply to prolong the visit.

When we walked home, I then had to endure her rhapsodies on the subject of your estimable character, your devoutness, your manners, and how very plausible it seemed to her that the Gabrielites could aspire to embody angels when you are so angelically handsome in your aspect &c &c. From my letters you are well aware of her intent to be engaged to any eligible man she can espy. I boldly asked her if she envisioned you as a candidate for husband, for if so she should be apprised that your faith forbids marriage. She said she did not believe it, and would question you on the next visit. I added that at any rate Papa would forbid the union because of your affiliation with Gabriel Nation. She only laughed and repeated that Father is unconcerned whom she marries, for his affection has always been directed at me alone. I am sorry she thinks so little of herself.

Therefore do not be amazed if she pays another call to Mrs. Seeley before long. For myself, I had rather stay at home than sit dumbly in Mrs. S’s parlor while you and my sister enjoy the very conversation that I have longed for, and dissembled and disobeyed for, only to be ignored! I weep to remember it! Dear Mr. Trane, why could you not look or speak to me?

Jane

Dear, dear Mr. Trane,

I implore your pardon, I bless you for your indulgence, and wish I might tear to pieces that bitter note I sent and thus you had never seen it. I never realized that, while I had ample occasion to gaze upon your face during your lecture of many months ago, you yourself had never seen mine, except for one glimpse through a window on an October Sunday, when my face was obscured by my bonnet. Your explanation for your apparent disregard of my person during our visit is more than acceptable – it melts my heart. If another person, such as Ellis Graynier, should declare he cannot look upon me because he is stunned by how beautiful I am, I should brush off his words as arrant flattery. But I know you not to be a liar or flirt, and therefore those same words produce quite another effect on me. Further, I am sure you are alluding to a spiritual beauty you perceive in me rather than a physical one, a beauty such as I see in you as well. Truly Rebecca remarks well, for one feels the light of an angel about you, and that God’s grace lives with you. I cannot say it better, and thus will not try.

Yes, I will return with Rebecca, if tomorrow is not too soon! Perhaps tomorrow the two of us shall essay conversation, and even risk glances, as when one’s eyes grow accustomed to the sun!

Your affectionate friend,
Jane

Very ill. Do not be concerned. God keep you –

J.

Dear Mr. Trane,

I feel as though I have climbed from my grave, and my reflection in the mirror does not belie that fancy. Truly I was completely insensible these three weeks past, and for which I am grateful, as they tell me I was in much torment, with the fever so strong, and the swelling of my throat making swallowing such an agony. Sleep was a tyrant permitting no resistance. At the worst point I seemed to quit my body – an oddly welcome sensation, of calm without regret – until the thought came that I might not see my loved ones again, at least in this world. And so my spirit hurried back to my invalid’s body, and I willingly resumed my sufferings.

Imagine, I missed my twentieth birthday entirely! No matter, I am lucky to have lived past it. Rebecca delivered news of you from time to time, when I was able to sit up and drink weak tea, because she saw how it cheered me to hear of your conversations with her. May God forgive me for my envy of her who could visit and sit hours in the company of my friend and teacher, when I have only for coin the pauperly sum of one hour, long ago – an hour spent in silence! I marvel that Papa allows Rebecca such visits, and that he even saw fit to welcome you into our house when you came to call with Mrs. Seely. Perhaps Rebecca is right, and he does not trouble himself for her associations so much as he does for myself. Indeed I know from Rebecca that he has made private inquiry about your means from the Widow, and was pleased to learn of your inherited income.

I cannot fathom that my sister and father both should entertain the idea of a union! If you have told Rebecca of your faith’s renouncement of matrimony, your words fell upon deaf ears, I promise you. Please assure me you foster no such alliance, or I will think my sister poorly used – but I cannot believe it of you, and it is only my imagination, so deformed by fever, which envisions such treachery.

Nay, I cannot doubt your sincerity when I hold in my hands such a gift as you have bestowed on me – and with what cunning! The others never dreamed that, concealed under the poetry volumes in the basket that Widow Seeley brought for my sickbed, and which was brought up to me by Letty, lay your beautiful present. When I uncovered it, and read your fond inscription, I truly began to mend. How good you are, to give me your own Bible! When I am too tired to read, I trace with my fingers the warm leather that has known your hands’ embrace, and the stamped cross of Gabriel Nation (one day soon you will tell me the meaning of its peculiar configuration).

Your gift puts to oblivion all other presents I received while sick: from Uli a poultice he made, one of his old country’s remedies, and medicinal roots he dug from the snow atop Rowell Hill; I had presents, too, from Ellis Graynier, whose questionable benevolence supplied me with a bottle of cologne, an ivory comb, and a muskrat robe which, though rich, reminds me only of the low marshes from which those creatures, and Mr. Ellis, derive! Even Papa was embarrassed by his extravagance, and wondered that young Master Graynier should bother with my health, who has never previously shown any interest in our family, or the Pettigrews should all be wrapped in ermines by now!

I am become so thin and pallid, I don’t wish for you to see me until I have regained my original form, which transformation I hope will be in time for the Workingmen’s Ball. Even if your religion and your injury prevent your dancing, please tell me you will attend! I am so eager to see your dear face again.

I understand that your generous gift has rendered you bereft of Holy Scriptures, so I trust you will accept my little Bible in exchange, which Letty brings you along with this letter. I have tucked in its pages a lock of my hair. I am ever

Yours in gratitude,
Jane