to stoke the fire after complaining quite loudly about the chill in the room. My suggestion is that you help Lydia get the smudge off the material and get back to work. None of us have time for such petty arguments.”
“But it’s white satin!” Lydia said, her tone suggesting she might very well cry.
“Mrs. Clarkson has a list of remedies. For white satin you need some old bread crumbs and cornstarch. Mix it together, rub the stain. Be sure you wear gloves when you do this. The smudge should come right out. You have only to use a soft cloth on it to buff the sheen.”
“You always have the solution, don’t you, Catherine?” Felicia’s tone was more than a little sarcastic.
Beatrix picked up the pattern paper she’d come for and headed out of the room, while Catherine finished dealing with the matter. “Stop fretting, Lydia. No one here wants to be the ruin of anyone else. We all have our jobs to do.” Catherine looked hard at Felicia. “I’d like to speak with you privately.”
Felicia motioned to Lydia. “Go take care of the smudge, then find the black jet we need for Mrs. Wyman’s gown.” Lydia nodded and hurried from the room, apparently grateful to escape.
“What do you have to say, Catherine?” Felicia asked, arrogance in her expression.
“I know you are the one who smudged Lydia’s material. I can see the coal dust on the sides of your apron where you thought you’d eliminated the problem. Your sloppiness may well cost you if the mark cannot be removed from the material.”
The younger woman’s expression changed to one of anger. “I will not pay for something I didn’t do. If you see coal dust on my apron, that is no reason to believe it would also be on the material. Lydia was no doubt careless, or Beatrix is more deceitful than you realize.”
To Felicia’s obvious surprise, Catherine reached out in a flash and grabbed hold of her arm. Holding up the younger woman’s hand, Catherine revealed that there was still residue from the coal on Felicia’s fingers.
“I would say maybe the deceit runs in a different direction.”
She dropped her hold on Felicia and headed toward the door just as Dolley came in to retrieve something.
“It’s a terrible time of year to be in want,” Catherine said without emotion. “I would hate to see anyone lose their place here because they were unwilling to work together.”
She didn’t wait for Felicia to comment but quietly left.
Dolley was gone when Lydia returned. “I can’t find the cornstarch.”
“Oh, how I hate that woman,” Felicia said, throwing a spool of thread at the now-closed door. “She thinks herself so high-and-mighty.”
Lydia seemed uncertain of whether she should speak or remain silent. Felicia was just as glad that the girl was quiet.
Something needed to be done to put Catherine Shay in her place, and Felicia needed time to think about what she might do to accomplish such a thing.
“Did you hear what I said? I can’t find the cornstarch.”
“Oh, hang the cornstarch.” Felicia stormed to the far side of the room and washed her hands in a basin of water. As she dried her hands, an idea came to mind. Catherine’s parents lived on the fourth floor. If they could be discredited or if something could be found that might put Catherine herself in a bad light, it would be found in their quarters.
“So long as Catherine Shay is here,” Felicia said in hushed tone, “we neither one will know any peace or advancement. She has become Mrs. Clarkson’s golden goose, and no doubt the old lady will take Catherine’s side over ours.”
“I can’t be fired. I need this work. I hate being away from my family, but they would disown me if I were to leave here now,”
Lydia said, sounding close to hysterics.
“Oh, stop being a ninny.” Felicia didn’t try to disguise her disgust at the girl’s fearful outburst. “No one is going to fire you.
But I have in mind something that just might see Miss Shay
“But it’s white satin!” Lydia said, her tone suggesting she might very well cry.
“Mrs. Clarkson has a list of remedies. For white satin you need some old bread crumbs and cornstarch. Mix it together, rub the stain. Be sure you wear gloves when you do this. The smudge should come right out. You have only to use a soft cloth on it to buff the sheen.”
“You always have the solution, don’t you, Catherine?” Felicia’s tone was more than a little sarcastic.
Beatrix picked up the pattern paper she’d come for and headed out of the room, while Catherine finished dealing with the matter. “Stop fretting, Lydia. No one here wants to be the ruin of anyone else. We all have our jobs to do.” Catherine looked hard at Felicia. “I’d like to speak with you privately.”
Felicia motioned to Lydia. “Go take care of the smudge, then find the black jet we need for Mrs. Wyman’s gown.” Lydia nodded and hurried from the room, apparently grateful to escape.
“What do you have to say, Catherine?” Felicia asked, arrogance in her expression.
“I know you are the one who smudged Lydia’s material. I can see the coal dust on the sides of your apron where you thought you’d eliminated the problem. Your sloppiness may well cost you if the mark cannot be removed from the material.”
The younger woman’s expression changed to one of anger. “I will not pay for something I didn’t do. If you see coal dust on my apron, that is no reason to believe it would also be on the material. Lydia was no doubt careless, or Beatrix is more deceitful than you realize.”
To Felicia’s obvious surprise, Catherine reached out in a flash and grabbed hold of her arm. Holding up the younger woman’s hand, Catherine revealed that there was still residue from the coal on Felicia’s fingers.
“I would say maybe the deceit runs in a different direction.”
She dropped her hold on Felicia and headed toward the door just as Dolley came in to retrieve something.
“It’s a terrible time of year to be in want,” Catherine said without emotion. “I would hate to see anyone lose their place here because they were unwilling to work together.”
She didn’t wait for Felicia to comment but quietly left.
Dolley was gone when Lydia returned. “I can’t find the cornstarch.”
“Oh, how I hate that woman,” Felicia said, throwing a spool of thread at the now-closed door. “She thinks herself so high-and-mighty.”
Lydia seemed uncertain of whether she should speak or remain silent. Felicia was just as glad that the girl was quiet.
Something needed to be done to put Catherine Shay in her place, and Felicia needed time to think about what she might do to accomplish such a thing.
“Did you hear what I said? I can’t find the cornstarch.”
“Oh, hang the cornstarch.” Felicia stormed to the far side of the room and washed her hands in a basin of water. As she dried her hands, an idea came to mind. Catherine’s parents lived on the fourth floor. If they could be discredited or if something could be found that might put Catherine herself in a bad light, it would be found in their quarters.
“So long as Catherine Shay is here,” Felicia said in hushed tone, “we neither one will know any peace or advancement. She has become Mrs. Clarkson’s golden goose, and no doubt the old lady will take Catherine’s side over ours.”
“I can’t be fired. I need this work. I hate being away from my family, but they would disown me if I were to leave here now,”
Lydia said, sounding close to hysterics.
“Oh, stop being a ninny.” Felicia didn’t try to disguise her disgust at the girl’s fearful outburst. “No one is going to fire you.
But I have in mind something that just might see Miss Shay
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