Americans this is just like a fairy tale. Rene thanked me tonight for having the tea for her. "Perhaps this is just what you two needed to get along," he said. But I don't think so.
October 31
I AM MISERABLE . Charlotte insists on following her own plan of action in the house, and it does not include me. She is all over at once, ordering the servants about. Bridget has become sullen. Mrs. Moore doesn't speak any more than necessary, and Charley stays out in the stables as much as he can.
How can I run a house this way? What will happen when she leaves? Will they resent me because I didn't stand up for them? I must do something, even to show my objections to the way things are going. Rene is so busy he is scarce home, and as long as he gets his breakfast and his supper he doesn't care how the house is run. And I can't complain to him all the time. I don't want to be a nag.
November 1
IT IS GETTING cold at night. We need an extra blanket. Rene has had Charley make fires in the hearths in the dining room and the parlor. I am still working on the baby's layette.
November 2
MY THOUGHTS turn more and more to home. Rene had said we should make the trip by the end of the month, so I can spend the winter months in the South with my family, but I wish to go sooner. I mentioned it to Bridget this morning, because she is to go with me, as well as Rene.
But Bridget caught on right away. "You want to leave because of the old lady," she said.
"Yes."
"Don't let her drive you away. Stand up to her."
"How?"
She thought for a moment. Then she told me how. "Go to her in the kitchen. Take out of her hands whatever she is doing and say, 'Now, Charlotte, you are visiting and we want you to be treated as a visitor, as the grand lady you are. So you just let Bridget and Mrs. Moore and me handle things in the kitchen and go into the parlor and put your feet up and finish that blanket you were knitting for the baby. And I'll bring you a cup of tea.'"
I stared at her. "Will it work?"
"I guarantee it will."
"I can't do it. I just can't."
"You must, Rose. It's the only way."
It was after supper and we were on the side porch. Rene was in his study. I don't know where Charlotte was. "Let me think about it," I said. "I need to go somewhere where I can think about it." And I got up and walked around the side of the house. Where could I go? And then I knew.
"Go inside and get my warm cloak, Bridget, and trolley fare."
"What are you going to do?"
"Just do it."
She did. I put the cloak on and walked to the front of the house and waited for the trolley to the sand dunes. All the while Bridget was on me. I couldn't go alone. Rene would worry. "Then let him worry," I said. Maybe he needs to worry a bit, and all the while it was coming on to me that this was why I was doing it.
I was, in a sense, running away to make Rene worry.
What I really wanted was to go home, but this would have to do for now.
Bridget waited with me until the trolley came, and then I looked at her. "I'll be back on the last trolley. Don't tell anyone."
"The master will have my head," she complained.
"Don't tell him," I ordered. "You work for me, not for him." And then I boarded the trolley.
20
November 2 (continued)
IT WAS PAST twilight when I boarded the trolley, the melancholy of an autumn evening. There were more shadows than remnants of sunlight, and in the west the sky was streaked with red and purple.
There was nobody on the trolley but me.
"Where to, missy?" the conductor asked.
"The end of the line."
"Kind of late for a pretty little missy like you to be going that far."
I felt a pang of fear. "I have friends there," I said.
We started off. As we bumped along, the houses grew more and more distant from each other, less grand, and more lonesome. Yet there was a beauty about the sand dunes and salt marshes and the wind that swept through the grasses. In some places I saw children playing, and as if that were a signal to the babe inside me, he quickened. And
October 31
I AM MISERABLE . Charlotte insists on following her own plan of action in the house, and it does not include me. She is all over at once, ordering the servants about. Bridget has become sullen. Mrs. Moore doesn't speak any more than necessary, and Charley stays out in the stables as much as he can.
How can I run a house this way? What will happen when she leaves? Will they resent me because I didn't stand up for them? I must do something, even to show my objections to the way things are going. Rene is so busy he is scarce home, and as long as he gets his breakfast and his supper he doesn't care how the house is run. And I can't complain to him all the time. I don't want to be a nag.
November 1
IT IS GETTING cold at night. We need an extra blanket. Rene has had Charley make fires in the hearths in the dining room and the parlor. I am still working on the baby's layette.
November 2
MY THOUGHTS turn more and more to home. Rene had said we should make the trip by the end of the month, so I can spend the winter months in the South with my family, but I wish to go sooner. I mentioned it to Bridget this morning, because she is to go with me, as well as Rene.
But Bridget caught on right away. "You want to leave because of the old lady," she said.
"Yes."
"Don't let her drive you away. Stand up to her."
"How?"
She thought for a moment. Then she told me how. "Go to her in the kitchen. Take out of her hands whatever she is doing and say, 'Now, Charlotte, you are visiting and we want you to be treated as a visitor, as the grand lady you are. So you just let Bridget and Mrs. Moore and me handle things in the kitchen and go into the parlor and put your feet up and finish that blanket you were knitting for the baby. And I'll bring you a cup of tea.'"
I stared at her. "Will it work?"
"I guarantee it will."
"I can't do it. I just can't."
"You must, Rose. It's the only way."
It was after supper and we were on the side porch. Rene was in his study. I don't know where Charlotte was. "Let me think about it," I said. "I need to go somewhere where I can think about it." And I got up and walked around the side of the house. Where could I go? And then I knew.
"Go inside and get my warm cloak, Bridget, and trolley fare."
"What are you going to do?"
"Just do it."
She did. I put the cloak on and walked to the front of the house and waited for the trolley to the sand dunes. All the while Bridget was on me. I couldn't go alone. Rene would worry. "Then let him worry," I said. Maybe he needs to worry a bit, and all the while it was coming on to me that this was why I was doing it.
I was, in a sense, running away to make Rene worry.
What I really wanted was to go home, but this would have to do for now.
Bridget waited with me until the trolley came, and then I looked at her. "I'll be back on the last trolley. Don't tell anyone."
"The master will have my head," she complained.
"Don't tell him," I ordered. "You work for me, not for him." And then I boarded the trolley.
20
November 2 (continued)
IT WAS PAST twilight when I boarded the trolley, the melancholy of an autumn evening. There were more shadows than remnants of sunlight, and in the west the sky was streaked with red and purple.
There was nobody on the trolley but me.
"Where to, missy?" the conductor asked.
"The end of the line."
"Kind of late for a pretty little missy like you to be going that far."
I felt a pang of fear. "I have friends there," I said.
We started off. As we bumped along, the houses grew more and more distant from each other, less grand, and more lonesome. Yet there was a beauty about the sand dunes and salt marshes and the wind that swept through the grasses. In some places I saw children playing, and as if that were a signal to the babe inside me, he quickened. And
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