servants would never leave me. They’ve always been loyal, and where would they go?”
“No servants are so loyal that they won’t walk off if they get the chance. Grant agrees with me that they should stay behind.”
“But for entirely different reasons,” said Ulys, who would probably be perfectly content to sit back with his pipe and wave farewell to their servants should they all decide to pack up and leave one fine morning. “The citizens of Galena are likely to regard slave-owning neighbors with contempt and distrust. I don’t think that’s the impression we want to make.”
“Let me take Jule along, at least,” Julia implored, looking from her husband to her father and back. Her heart sank with dismay when she realized they were adamant. The best she could do was to make Papa promise that he would place Jule and the others with respectable people who would treat them kindly.
None of the servants would welcome the news, but Julia dreaded telling Jule most of all. “I don’t know what to do,” she confessed to Ulys that evening after Jule dressed her for bed. “Should I tell her tomorrow, to give her time to get used to the idea and say good-bye to her friends, or should I wait until the day of her departure, so she has less time to worry?”
“An interesting question.” Ulys sat down beside her on the edge of the bed, took her hand, and regarded her curiously. “How would you feel in her place?”
For a moment Julia could only stare back at him, bewildered. “How would
I
feel in
her
place?”
“Yes, Julia. How would you feel?”
“I don’t know.” She found she could not meet his gaze. “It’s—it’s simply incomprehensible that I would ever be in her place.”
“Try to imagine it all the same.”
To humor him, Julia tried—but almost immediately shook her head. “I don’t know. I suppose I’d want to know ahead of time so I could prepare. Otherwise it might come as quite a shock.”
Ulys patted her hand, rose, and resumed undressing for bed. “Very good, Julia. Very good.”
She was not sure if he meant her decision or how she had come to it.
She told Jule first, apart from the others, and she felt sick at heart as Jule gazed back at her, first uncomprehendingly, and then with bleak despair. “Please don’t do this, Miss Julia,” she murmured, giving her head the barest shake. “Please.”
“It’s not my choice,” said Julia. “I would take you with me, but Papa insists that you stay, and Ulys is determined not to take any servants with us.”
“But you need me. How you gonna to manage four children in a new house in a strange town all on your own?”
Julia could hardly bear the pain and confusion in Jule’s face. “I know I’ll need you—believe me, I do—but they’ve made up their minds.”
“If I can’t go with you, then can’t you just hire me out by the day, as the missus used to?” Jule reached out as if to place her hand beseechingly on Julia’s forearm, but at the last moment she held back. “That way I can still look after the old master evenings and mornings, and I won’t have to live with strangers.”
“I’m sorry. I truly am. I’ll make it up to you.”
Jule put her head to one side and fixed her with a gaze so penetrating that Julia flinched. “Will you, Miss Julia?” she asked, her voice hardening, though it grew no louder. “Do you promise?”
“Yes,” Julia quickly replied, unsure exactly what sort of pact she was making, and how she would keep it. “Yes, I will. I promise.”
On the day Jule was sent off to her interim employers—her few belongings tied up in a calico bundle, her back ramrod straight, her expression brittle yet stoic—Julia’s regret and shame infiltrated her dreams. She and Jule were children again, ginger and cream, playing in Papa’s library. Squealing and laughing, they chased each other around his great oak desk, upon which a map of the United States and its territories was spread. Pausing to
“No servants are so loyal that they won’t walk off if they get the chance. Grant agrees with me that they should stay behind.”
“But for entirely different reasons,” said Ulys, who would probably be perfectly content to sit back with his pipe and wave farewell to their servants should they all decide to pack up and leave one fine morning. “The citizens of Galena are likely to regard slave-owning neighbors with contempt and distrust. I don’t think that’s the impression we want to make.”
“Let me take Jule along, at least,” Julia implored, looking from her husband to her father and back. Her heart sank with dismay when she realized they were adamant. The best she could do was to make Papa promise that he would place Jule and the others with respectable people who would treat them kindly.
None of the servants would welcome the news, but Julia dreaded telling Jule most of all. “I don’t know what to do,” she confessed to Ulys that evening after Jule dressed her for bed. “Should I tell her tomorrow, to give her time to get used to the idea and say good-bye to her friends, or should I wait until the day of her departure, so she has less time to worry?”
“An interesting question.” Ulys sat down beside her on the edge of the bed, took her hand, and regarded her curiously. “How would you feel in her place?”
For a moment Julia could only stare back at him, bewildered. “How would
I
feel in
her
place?”
“Yes, Julia. How would you feel?”
“I don’t know.” She found she could not meet his gaze. “It’s—it’s simply incomprehensible that I would ever be in her place.”
“Try to imagine it all the same.”
To humor him, Julia tried—but almost immediately shook her head. “I don’t know. I suppose I’d want to know ahead of time so I could prepare. Otherwise it might come as quite a shock.”
Ulys patted her hand, rose, and resumed undressing for bed. “Very good, Julia. Very good.”
She was not sure if he meant her decision or how she had come to it.
She told Jule first, apart from the others, and she felt sick at heart as Jule gazed back at her, first uncomprehendingly, and then with bleak despair. “Please don’t do this, Miss Julia,” she murmured, giving her head the barest shake. “Please.”
“It’s not my choice,” said Julia. “I would take you with me, but Papa insists that you stay, and Ulys is determined not to take any servants with us.”
“But you need me. How you gonna to manage four children in a new house in a strange town all on your own?”
Julia could hardly bear the pain and confusion in Jule’s face. “I know I’ll need you—believe me, I do—but they’ve made up their minds.”
“If I can’t go with you, then can’t you just hire me out by the day, as the missus used to?” Jule reached out as if to place her hand beseechingly on Julia’s forearm, but at the last moment she held back. “That way I can still look after the old master evenings and mornings, and I won’t have to live with strangers.”
“I’m sorry. I truly am. I’ll make it up to you.”
Jule put her head to one side and fixed her with a gaze so penetrating that Julia flinched. “Will you, Miss Julia?” she asked, her voice hardening, though it grew no louder. “Do you promise?”
“Yes,” Julia quickly replied, unsure exactly what sort of pact she was making, and how she would keep it. “Yes, I will. I promise.”
On the day Jule was sent off to her interim employers—her few belongings tied up in a calico bundle, her back ramrod straight, her expression brittle yet stoic—Julia’s regret and shame infiltrated her dreams. She and Jule were children again, ginger and cream, playing in Papa’s library. Squealing and laughing, they chased each other around his great oak desk, upon which a map of the United States and its territories was spread. Pausing to
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