The Dawn of a Dream (19 page)

Mrs. Guthrie joined her at the front of the room. Speaking in a low voice, she said, “While they practice their spelling, I’d like you to spend some individual time with Joshua. He’s progressing on his sums, but he still lags behind the class. Could you take him through some drills in one of the empty desks at the back?”

“Of course.” Joshua was one of her favorites. She loved his eagerness and his bright smile. Luellen walked to his desk. “Let’s go in the back where it’s quiet and practice your arithmetic.”

He beamed at her and bounced to his feet. “Numbers make sense when you teach me.” He threw his arms around her as far as they would go and hugged.

Luellen tensed. She’d allowed no one to get close since she returned in February.

Joshua jumped back, pointing at her abdomen. “You have a baby in there—just like my mama!”

Stunned, Luellen glanced between Joshua and Mrs. Guthrie. His innocent smile brought tears to her eyes. The idea that she was like his mama obviously thrilled him. He rested a small hand against her side. “Can I feel it move?”

Her fingers shook as she stroked his dark hair. “Yes.”

The other children turned in their seats to look. To them babies were a routine fact of life, news greeted either with joy or dismay, depending on the family’s circumstances. Their reactions didn’t bother her—Mrs. Guthrie’s did.

The instructor hastened to her side. “When we dismiss for dinner, I’d appreciate it if you would stay for a few minutes.” Worry lines creased her forehead.

Luellen nodded. Summoning poise, she told Joshua to sit. Her heart thudded in her throat as she led him through addition facts. What would happen to her? Mr. Price’s words about Mrs. Guthrie’s earlier situation echoed in her ears.
She wouldn’t have been permitted to attend if anyone had known.

When the noon bell rang, she gathered her portfolio and stepped into the vestibule to wait for Mrs. Guthrie. The children’s dinner pails clattered as they opened them and took out their food. Smells of onion, cheese, and cold mutton mingled with the odor of sulfur seeping from the coal-burning stove. Luellen turned her head, storing the classroom scene in her memory in case this was her last day at Allenwood. Sorrow washed over her, leaving her drenched in its wake. She had so many regrets, she didn’t know which was the most profound. Her marriage to Brendan? Not leaving for school years ago, before she ever met him? Her failure to confide in Mrs. Guthrie? Luellen clasped her hands together and waited.

“I’m sorry for the delay. I wanted to be sure the class was well occupied before I left.” Mrs. Guthrie took Luellen’s elbow. “Let’s step out onto the porch.”

Once the door closed behind them, Luellen faced her. “You knew, didn’t you?”

“I suspected.” She shook her head. “I wish you’d come to me sooner—perhaps we could have avoided this moment. I would have kept your secret. But now that all the children know, they’ll tell their parents, and it’ll get back to Dr. Alexander in no time.”

Luellen covered her lips with her fingers. “What will he do?”

“He’ll ask you to leave. This is an institution founded on strong moral principles. He has no choice.”

“I want you to know—” Luellen’s breath caught in her throat. “I was married. Then he told me he already had a wife.” She fought to keep tears back, but they defied her. Her words rolled out between sobs. “I didn’t know I was with child until I’d been enrolled here for a couple of months. And now . . .”

Mrs. Guthrie opened her arms and Luellen leaned into her, grateful for the contact.

“Don’t give up yet. I’ll talk to Dr. Alexander.” She stepped away, her eyes warm. “We’ll see what he says.”

Still in shock, Luellen returned to the Ladies Hall, barely noticing the wind that tugged at her shawl. Should she attend afternoon classes as though nothing had happened, or remain in her room and wait for Dr. Alexander’s summons?

Dashing in the front door, she almost flattened Belle. “Oh! Excuse me.”

“Surely our menu isn’t so tempting that you’re rushing to the table?”

“No, I—” Now would be the time to confide in her friend, but she couldn’t force the words out. “Let me run up and put my things away, and I’ll join you in a moment.”

Belle caught her arm. “Did you hear from Franklin?”

She shook her head. Joshua’s remark in the classroom had chased all other concerns from her mind. Now her worries about Ward returned with the force of a blow. “The longer the silence lasts, the more worried I become.”

“Do you suppose no news is good news?” Belle tried to smile.

“I’ve never found it so.” Luellen polished her glasses on the edge of her shawl. “We’ll just have to wait. I don’t know what else we can do.” Fear whirled through her mind—the idea that Ward had been injured circled the thought that she’d be dismissed from Normal School before nightfall. “I’ll see you in a moment. We’ll walk to psychology class after we eat.”

Luellen spent the next hours trying to keep her mind on the theory and practice of managing children. Every now and then she glanced over her shoulder, expecting to be summoned to the registrar’s office. When the day passed with no incident, she felt almost lighthearted. Perhaps Mrs. Guthrie had persuaded Dr. Alexander to allow her to remain.

Holding to that thought, she arose the next morning and left for her classes. Perhaps no news
was
good news. But when she entered the Ladies Hall at midday, Mr. Price waited in the foyer. Startled, she looked around for Mrs. Bledsoe. “Where’s the matron? Does she know you’re here?”

He smoothed a corner of his scraggy moustache. “I’m here at Dr. Alexander’s request. He asked to see the matron, so she dashed off. But I have something for you.” He reached inside his coat and removed a folded envelope.

Luellen had never received a telegram before, but she knew what it was. She reached for the missive.

Mr. Price took a step closer. “Not bad news, I hope?”

Anxious to get to her room, she withered him with a glance. “It’s none of your concern, is it?”

“Whatever affects the students concerns me.”

Luellen wondered how such a pompous young man had ever found a job with the school. Surely there were more qualified people in a town the size of Allenwood.

The door swung open and Belle stepped inside. Luellen held up the telegram so Belle could see it and nodded toward the staircase. “Thank you for bringing the message,” she said to Mr. Price. “Please excuse us now.”

Once upstairs, she stopped in the hallway and slit open the envelope, holding the contents so Belle could read them too. “
Ward wounded Stop Recovery hopeful Stop Letter follows Stop Franklin”

“At least . . .” Luellen gulped. “At least he’s not dead.”

Belle studied Luellen’s face and opened the door to her room. “You look like you’re going to faint. Come in and sit for a moment.”

Luellen settled into a chair, embarrassed by her reaction. “It’s a relief to know he’s alive. When we didn’t hear right away, I expected the worst.” She tried to sound detached. “Franklin said Ward’s recovery is ‘hopeful.’ That means they’re not sure.”

“I know.”

“So now we wait for Franklin’s letter.” She remembered how Ward had supported her through her difficulties since they’d first met. “The lieutenant’s such a kind man. Why’d this have to happen?”

“You sound like you’re growing attached to him.” Belle cupped a hand behind her ear. “Do I hear wedding bells?”

“Marriage is the farthest thing from my mind. I’m here to become a teacher, not to find a husband. You know most schools won’t hire married women.”

“I know. But sometimes I think it would be nice to do both.”

“Not for me.” How could she trust her own judgment after the disastrous mistake she’d made with Brendan? She pushed herself to her feet. “I’d better get some studying done before dinner.”

Once in her room, she dropped her jacket on the bed and raised the window, letting a cool breeze surround her. A pile of books waited on her desk. She opened the algebra text and stared at an equation, forehead resting on her hand. Images of Ward blocked the symbols on the page.
Father, I don’t know how badly he’s injured, but you do. Please heal him.
She forced her attention to algebraic formulas. Mastering them felt like trying to pound a worm down a hole.

“Miss McGarvie!” Matron Bledsoe’s voice bellowed from the hallway. “Come out here right now.”

Luellen covered herself with her jacket and flung open the door. “My word, Matron, what’s wrong?”

“Don’t act innocent with me.” Red-faced, she stood on the threshold, her bosom heaving. “Passing yourself off as a maiden, and you’re expecting a child! Well, not under my roof!”

Luellen fought for breath. She’d expected to be called to the registrar’s office, not assaulted by Mrs. Bledsoe. “P-please come in. Let me explain.”

“We can talk right here, thank you. I don’t wish to sully myself with the likes of you.”

Doors opened up and down the hall. Shocked faces peered at her, Belle’s among them. Luellen stared into her friend’s eyes, then turned her gaze to Mrs. Bledsoe, her temper rising. “My baby has nothing to do with my conduct here, and you know it.”

“Nonsense. How do I know what you were up to all those times you left for town without a chaperone?”

Luellen reeled. “That was months ago.”

“Exactly.” Matron’s jowls quivered. “I’ll leave it to Dr. Alexander to decide whether you remain enrolled, but as for me, I want you out of Ladies Hall by tomorrow evening.” She reached past Luellen and grabbed the door, slamming it with a frame-rattling crash.

Where could she go? Fingers pressed against her temples, Luellen stared at the floor as though she might find an answer carved in the wooden planks.

Voices buzzed in the hallway. Gradually she heard doors closing as the other women returned to their rooms, no doubt to continue speculating about her.

Tap, tap, tap. Tap tap.
Would Belle add her recriminations to those of the matron? Luellen shook her head. She couldn’t take any more abuse right now. If she ignored the sound, Belle would go away.

The door swung open. Her friend stood in the hallway, tears streaming over her face. She held out her arms. “I’m so sorry.”

Luellen walked into the embrace, laying her cheek against the top of the shorter woman’s head. Belle’s characteristic rosewater fragrance filled her senses. “I didn’t think you’d want to associate with me.”

“Whatever has happened, I’ll help you see it through.” Belle stepped back, dabbing at her eyes. “All this time and you never told me. Why?”

Taking her hand, Luellen drew her into the room. “How could I tell you? What must you think of me?”

“What do you think of
me
, that you couldn’t trust my friendship?”

“I was afraid. So much has happened since we met. You’ve been a bright spot in some terrible days—I didn’t want to lose that.”

Belle placed her hands on her hips, her round face flushed. “A friend loveth at all times—that means during the bad as well as the good. Now, tell me what I can do.”

Luellen’s reserve broke. Hands over her face, she fell into a chair, sobbing. “After the way I treated you in Beldon Grove, I don’t deserve such friendship.”

“Let’s not worry over that now.” Belle handed her a lace-trimmed handkerchief with a scrolled
B
embroidered in one corner. “First things first. When’s the baby coming?”

“Probably late May.” She clutched her friend’s hand. “One thing you must know. I was married last August. After four weeks he came home and told me he already had a wife. My father arranged a divorce. In October I realized I was carrying my husband’s child.”

“Oh, my dear!” Sympathy played across Belle’s face.

“I was determined to see out the year.” Luellen ran her hand over the skirt of her golden brown dress. “Mama helped me make these clothes to hide my condition. It worked until yesterday, when one of the children in the Model School threw his arms around me and felt the baby.” She closed her eyes at the memory. “Now . . .” Luellen spread her hands. “I don’t know where I’ll live, but I know this. I’m going to fight to finish this term.”

Belle stood, jaw set. “Count on me to be right beside you.”

The sound of the noon chime rolled in the open window. Footsteps clattered on the stairs as occupants of the second floor headed for the dining hall.

Luellen rubbed her face. “Do you suppose Matron will refuse to feed me?”

“She said ‘tomorrow evening.’ Do you want me to bring you a meal?”

Chin up and look them in the eye.
“No. I’ll go down with you.”

The murmur of conversation ceased when Luellen and Belle entered the dining hall. Some girls stared openly, while others averted their eyes. “Looks like there’s a few empty tables,” Belle whispered.

“I think anywhere we choose to sit we’ll find the table empty,” Luellen said. Holding her head high, she waited while one of the kitchen helpers scooped a pile of overcooked cabbage mixed with boiled beef onto her plate.

“Don’t let Bledsoe worry you none,” the woman said under her breath. “I been where you are. People like her love to make others feel like dirt.”

Tears sprang to Luellen’s eyes at the unexpected kindness. “Bless you. Thank you for the kind words.”

“My room’s behind the kitchen. You come find me if you get hungry in the night.” She winked. “I know how that is.”

Buoyed by the woman’s support, Luellen sat and waited for Belle.

“See. Not everyone’s against you,” Belle said as she slid into a chair.

Mrs. Bledsoe appeared in the doorway, arms folded across her chest. She glared in Luellen’s direction.

“Just most people,” Luellen said.

Luellen slipped into her afternoon algebra class and took a seat near the door as the instructor called the roll. He read “McGarvie” and moved on to the next name without waiting for a response.

“I’m here.” Luellen jutted her hand in the air.

Startled, he peered in her direction, then dropped his gaze and noted her reply. For the duration of the session, Luellen felt like an uninvited guest at a party. Her presence was tolerated, not welcomed.

When class ended, Luellen walked alone to the Ladies Hall. If she obeyed Mrs. Bledsoe’s ultimatum, this would be her last night on campus. She didn’t have the money to live in town, and didn’t know a soul with a house to share. After an uncomfortable supper in the dining hall, she returned to her room to pack her belongings. With each item stowed, she breathed a prayer she’d find a place to go. She was folding a nightdress when someone knocked on her door.

A girl she’d seen in class, but didn’t know well, stood in the hall. Her gaze skated past Luellen’s body and came to rest on a point close to one ear. “Matron sent me to tell you that Dr. Alexander wants to see you in his office right after breakfast.”

“Did she say anything about my Model School class tomorrow?”

The girl backed away from the doorway. “That’s all Matron said. Dr. Alexander first thing in the morning.”

Luellen dressed with care, pleased to note that her sacque still concealed her expanding waistline. When she entered the anteroom outside the registrar’s office, Mr. Price eyed her, his face flushing. “I’ll announce you.”

“No need. Dr. Alexander is expecting me.” She swept past his desk.

“Miss McGarvie.” The registrar nodded when she entered, his face carved from granite. “Please have a chair.” He watched while she seated herself opposite him.

“It seems you’ve been leading a secret life. According to Mrs. Guthrie, you are with child—the result of an unfortunate marriage.” He shook his head. “To say I’m disappointed would be an understatement. You showed more promise than most of the students I see, and now to have you leave—”

“I have no intention of leaving. I paid for this term and I’m going to finish. Didn’t Mrs. Guthrie tell you the circumstances of my marriage—and divorce?”

“She did. But Matron Bledsoe made it clear to me that she thinks you’re a bad example to the other girls in the Ladies Hall, and now that you’re . . . in this condition, she can’t condone your presence.”

“Have you no influence with her?”

“Kindly watch your tone. Mrs. Bledsoe has my full confidence in her management of the girls’ living arrangements. Thus, if she says you’re to go, I don’t see how you expect to continue your studies.”

“If I find lodging, do you have any objection to my completing the term?”

A half-smile cracked the granite. “Once you get your teeth in something, you don’t let go, do you?”

“No sir, I don’t.” She kept her voice steady. “I plan to attend classes and participate at the Model School, with your permission.”

Arms folded across his chest, he studied her for a moment, as if trying to decide if she were serious. “Granted.” He growled the word.

Luellen stood and took a step closer to the desk. She kept her hands out of sight under her jacket to hide their trembling. “Since I’m being forced to leave the Ladies Hall, I believe I’m entitled to a refund of the unused portion of my room and board. According to my calculations, the sum amounts to eighteen dollars and eighty-three cents. In specie, please.”

The kitchen in the Ladies Hall bustled with post-breakfast activity when Luellen entered. Heat from the oversized range drove an odor of stale grease through the room. The woman who had befriended her the day before tossed her a quick wave and went back to stirring the contents of a steaming pot. Glancing around, Luellen spied the head cook disappearing into the pantry. She hurried after her.

“May I have a word with you, Mrs. Enlow?”

The tired-looking woman spun around, her eyes narrowing when she recognized Luellen.

Her white cap drooped over one ear. “Students aren’t allowed in the kitchen—even girls who are no longer students, such as yourself.”

“You are misinformed. I’m still a student at Allenwood, and will be until the term ends.” She squared her shoulders. “I came to ask if I might be able to stay in one of the kitchen maids’ rooms out back. I’d work for my keep.”

Mrs. Enlow’s face pinched. “Sorry.” Nothing about her expression looked regretful. “Juliet Bledsoe has told me about you.”

Juliet?
Luellen fought down a snicker at the image of Mrs. Bledsoe as Shakespeare’s youthful heroine. “What she didn’t tell you is that I have several years’ experience cooking in a hotel. I can be useful here.”

“No. I don’t need any help, and you need to be out of this building.”

When Luellen turned to leave, the woman at the stove beckoned to her with a tilt of her head. Up close, her face showed age lines around her mouth and eyes. From under her apron, she produced a napkin-wrapped bundle. “I didn’t see you at breakfast. Here’s a couple biscuits. Remember, you get hungry, come and find me.”

Luellen took the offering, her eyes prickling with unshed tears. Over her shoulder, she caught sight of Mrs. Enlow approaching. Tucking the food under her sacque, she whispered her thanks and hastened from the kitchen.

The bell for the first class of the day tolled over the campus while Luellen strode toward the Model School, chewing bites of biscuit while she walked. A few more hours and she’d be forced to leave Ladies Hall. Where could she go? Her thoughts skittered in a dozen directions, but each road ended at a locked gate. Her only hope was to throw herself on Dr. Alexander’s mercy and beg him to intercede with Mrs. Bledsoe. Luellen shook her head. She’d rather swallow arsenic.

She closed the door of the Model School and hung her jacket near the door. Since Mrs. Guthrie knew of her condition, she no longer needed to hide under layers of wool.

The instructor smiled when Luellen reached her desk. “Dr. Alexander allowed you to stay?” She spoke in an undertone.

“He did. Mrs. Bledsoe didn’t.”

Mrs. Guthrie’s concern-filled eyes met Luellen’s. “Are you all right? You look flushed.”

“I’m well. I’m just—I don’t know what to do.” Luellen shook her head. “I hope I’ll be able to focus on the lessons today.”

Behind her, a boy’s voice called, “Teacher, I’m ready for my arithmetic.”

“We’ll talk later,” Mrs. Guthrie mouthed. Aloud, she said, “Miss McGarvie will be there in a moment, Joshua. Please sit still.”

The morning passed in a swirl of spelling words, sums, and story reading. When the noon bell rang, Luellen helped the children with their dinner pails, then joined Mrs. Guthrie in the rear of the classroom. She tried not to look hungry as the other woman lifted a thick sandwich from a square basket.

Without saying anything, Mrs. Guthrie handed half to Luellen. “So, tell me about Mrs. Bledsoe.”

She gulped, swallowing a partly chewed bite. “She gave me until this evening to vacate the Hall. Dr. Alexander said I could continue classes until the end of the term, but he didn’t overrule Matron’s edict.” Tears blurred her vision. Luellen placed her food on a chair between them. “I don’t have any place to go—except home, and I just can’t! Not after everything I’ve gone through.”

Mrs. Guthrie sat silent for a moment. “Can you come back this evening? I may have a solution for you, but I have to check with someone first.”

“I’ll be here.” She blotted her eyes. “I don’t care where it is, as long as I can stay in Allenwood. Thank you, Mrs. Guthrie.”

“Please call me Alma.”

When Luellen arrived at the school that evening, Alma hurried down the steps and took her arm, leading her south on Chestnut Street. Upon reaching the corner, Alma turned right. “It’s just down here a few blocks.”

“I stayed on this street when I first got to Allenwood—at Mrs. Hawks’s boardinghouse.”

“That’s where we’re going. Mrs. Hawks is my mother.”

Luellen stared at her through the gathering twilight. Alma’s face wore a serene expression. “I can’t afford to live in a boardinghouse. My money would be gone in no time.”

“I talked to Mother this afternoon. She would be willing to provide a room if you could help in the kitchen. Didn’t you mention you’d cooked in a hotel?”

Swallowing a lump in her throat, Luellen bowed her head in a silent prayer of thanks. “I don’t know how to repay your kindness.”

“There’s no need.”

Unable to believe her good fortune, Luellen asked, “Does your mother have room for both of us and her boarders?”

Alma chuckled. “I live with my grandparents. They watch my son during the day. I stayed with Mother until Frederick was born, but then I went to Grandma’s. Mother couldn’t look after him and take care of roomers too.” She turned off the walkway. Lamplight from the parlor window reflected across the covered porch. “She’s expecting us.”

Luellen took a deep breath. The transition seemed too easy. She hoped Mrs. Hawks wasn’t taking her in out of pity.

Once inside, Alma led the way to the kitchen, where they found her mother scrubbing dishes from the evening meal. The scent of fried ham tickled Luellen’s nose. Her stomach gurgled, and she remembered she hadn’t eaten since the half sandwich at noon.