Californians despised and mistreated the Chinese, called them dirty heathens, and worse. She felt quite differently. Since her mother had been frequently confined to bed by illness and her father was usually out managing the ranch when she was young, Annie had often been left to the care of Choy, their cook. She had found him a wise and gentle friend.
These bittersweet memories were swept away when Wong began to speak to her in clear, excellent English. "It is a pleasure to cook for one who finds joy in the harmony of what the eye sees and the tongue tastes, Miss. You seemed to be in need of renewal of both body and spirit."
Annie found herself staring, open-mouthed. Then she laughed. "Wong, for heaven's sake, why have you been pretending not to understand English?"
Wong smiled slightly and then shook his head gently. "Excuse me, Miss, I have not been pretending anything. I simply chose not to speak. I have found that there is often less misunderstanding that way. It seems to me that it is you who have been pretending, pretending to be a servant when you are not."
Annie felt a rising sense of panic. Had her secret already been discovered? She should never have let her interpretation of a dim-witted servant lapse in front of Wong. Or was he just referring to her ineptness? Was he going to give her away? She had to say something, quickly.
Trying to sound unconcerned, she said, "Oh dear, have I been doing such a bad job of it? I am afraid I haven't had as much practice as I ought. And I've been out of service for a while. I guess I've gotten rusty. Please, will you help me? You see, I really need this job. I intend no harm, and I believe that I can do some good."
Annie had leaned forward as she spoke, trying to impress upon Wong her sincerity. She found it difficult to read the old man's response because of the softer, flatter planes of his features. She was used to seeing harder angles and the telltale lines around eyes, nose, and mouth that pain, worry, fear, and laughter etched on even the youngest person. She wondered, as they both stared solemnly at each other, if Wong was having an equally difficult time reading her expressions. But no, she thought, as a servant he would have had to learn years ago how to discern the hidden meanings found in the faces of his alien employers.
Annie was anxiously awaiting his response when the sound of a bell from behind drew her attention. With some relief, Annie smiled tentatively at Wong and said as she rose, "Can we talk later? I have to see what Mrs. Voss wants."
Chapter Ten
Annie stood in front of Amelia Voss’s sitting room door and took a deep breath. She had to lay aside her concerns about Wong’s statement so that she could make the most of this opportunity. This would be the first time she saw Mrs. Voss up close, and she realized that she had been curious to meet Matthew’s beloved wife in person. She knocked on the door to the sitting room, and, at a quiet "come in," she entered. The different quality of this room from the rest of the house struck her immediately. First of all, the room seemed bathed in a warm rosy glow, as the light from the fireplace and the oil lamps filtered through thin embossed screens of red and pink. In addition, there didn't appear to be a hard or dark surface in the room. She saw none of the ornately carved tables and chairs and dark paneling that characterized the rest of the house. Mrs. Voss’s room, without the slightest hint of black, was papered and draped and upholstered and cushioned in a dazzling variety of brightly colored silks that seemed to give out light rather than to absorb it. Annie found the effect charming.
She felt no doubt about who was responsible for the room's decor. Wearing a richly embroidered dressing gown of deep burgundy that was elegant enough for street-wear, the woman sitting on one of the well-padded armchairs clearly belonged in this setting. Annie was again surprised by the youthfulness of Matthew's
These bittersweet memories were swept away when Wong began to speak to her in clear, excellent English. "It is a pleasure to cook for one who finds joy in the harmony of what the eye sees and the tongue tastes, Miss. You seemed to be in need of renewal of both body and spirit."
Annie found herself staring, open-mouthed. Then she laughed. "Wong, for heaven's sake, why have you been pretending not to understand English?"
Wong smiled slightly and then shook his head gently. "Excuse me, Miss, I have not been pretending anything. I simply chose not to speak. I have found that there is often less misunderstanding that way. It seems to me that it is you who have been pretending, pretending to be a servant when you are not."
Annie felt a rising sense of panic. Had her secret already been discovered? She should never have let her interpretation of a dim-witted servant lapse in front of Wong. Or was he just referring to her ineptness? Was he going to give her away? She had to say something, quickly.
Trying to sound unconcerned, she said, "Oh dear, have I been doing such a bad job of it? I am afraid I haven't had as much practice as I ought. And I've been out of service for a while. I guess I've gotten rusty. Please, will you help me? You see, I really need this job. I intend no harm, and I believe that I can do some good."
Annie had leaned forward as she spoke, trying to impress upon Wong her sincerity. She found it difficult to read the old man's response because of the softer, flatter planes of his features. She was used to seeing harder angles and the telltale lines around eyes, nose, and mouth that pain, worry, fear, and laughter etched on even the youngest person. She wondered, as they both stared solemnly at each other, if Wong was having an equally difficult time reading her expressions. But no, she thought, as a servant he would have had to learn years ago how to discern the hidden meanings found in the faces of his alien employers.
Annie was anxiously awaiting his response when the sound of a bell from behind drew her attention. With some relief, Annie smiled tentatively at Wong and said as she rose, "Can we talk later? I have to see what Mrs. Voss wants."
Chapter Ten
Annie stood in front of Amelia Voss’s sitting room door and took a deep breath. She had to lay aside her concerns about Wong’s statement so that she could make the most of this opportunity. This would be the first time she saw Mrs. Voss up close, and she realized that she had been curious to meet Matthew’s beloved wife in person. She knocked on the door to the sitting room, and, at a quiet "come in," she entered. The different quality of this room from the rest of the house struck her immediately. First of all, the room seemed bathed in a warm rosy glow, as the light from the fireplace and the oil lamps filtered through thin embossed screens of red and pink. In addition, there didn't appear to be a hard or dark surface in the room. She saw none of the ornately carved tables and chairs and dark paneling that characterized the rest of the house. Mrs. Voss’s room, without the slightest hint of black, was papered and draped and upholstered and cushioned in a dazzling variety of brightly colored silks that seemed to give out light rather than to absorb it. Annie found the effect charming.
She felt no doubt about who was responsible for the room's decor. Wearing a richly embroidered dressing gown of deep burgundy that was elegant enough for street-wear, the woman sitting on one of the well-padded armchairs clearly belonged in this setting. Annie was again surprised by the youthfulness of Matthew's
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