Mrs. Lincoln's Dressmaker by Jennifer Chiaverini Page A

concerned.
    Elizabeth soon learned firsthand what Mrs. Lincoln’s troubles had already demonstrated: Unscrupulous people were eager and determined to wriggle their way into the White House for their own wicked purposes. As soon as Elizabeth became well-known throughout Washington as Mrs. Lincoln’s modiste, strangers crowded around her affecting friendship, hoping that she could use her influence to obtain them a job, secure them a favor, or provide gossip they could use to their own benefit.
    One day, a woman Elizabeth had never met called on her at her rooms, placed an order for a dress, and insisted upon paying her partly in advance. For quite some time she came daily to see Elizabeth for fittings and adjustments, never failing to be gracious and kind. On the day the dress was complete and she came to pick it up, she hesitated before saying, “Mrs. Keckley, you know Mrs. Lincoln?”
    “Yes,” said Elizabeth, folding the dress carefully for her new patron to take home.
    “You are her modiste, are you not?”
    “Yes.”
    “You know her very well, do you not?”
    Elizabeth kept her expression smooth and pleasant, wondering where the questions would lead. “I am with her every day or two.”
    “Don’t you think you would have some influence with her?”
    So at last, there it was. “I cannot say. Mrs. Lincoln, I presume, would listen to anything I should suggest, but whether she would be influenced by a suggestion of mine is another question.”
    “I am sure that you could influence her.” The woman offered her an ingratiating smile. “Now, Mrs. Keckley, I have a proposition to make. I have a great desire to become an inmate of the White House. I have heard so much of Mr. Lincoln’s goodness that I should like to be near him, and if I can enter the White House no other way, I am willing to go as a menial.” At this Elizabeth tried to speak, but the woman hurried on as if she hadn’t noticed. “My dear Mrs. Keckley, will you not recommend me to Mrs. Lincoln as a friend of yours out of employment, and ask her to take me as a chambermaid? If you will do this you shall be well rewarded. It may be worth several thousand dollars to you in time.”
    Elizabeth regarded her with amazement. “Madam, you are mistaken in regard to my character. Sooner than betray the trust of a friend, I would throw myself into the Potomac. I am not so base as that. Pardon me, but there is the door, and I trust that you will never enter my room again.”
    The woman sprang to her feet, her expression utterly astonished and outraged. “Very well,” she snapped as she strode from the room. “You will live to regret your action today.”
    “Never, never,” Elizabeth exclaimed, slamming the door shut behind her. A moment later, she heard a rap upon it and tore it open only to find Emma standing in the hallway.
    Emma inclined her head down the hallway. “Why is she leaving in such a huff?”
    “Oh, it’s nothing,” said Elizabeth shortly, beckoning Emma inside. “Just another opportunity hunter. She claims it’s her heart’s desire to work as Mrs. Lincoln’s chambermaid.”
    “She doesn’t look like a chambermaid,” observed Emma. “But she does look somewhat familiar.”
    “I’d never seen her before she ordered that dress, and I hope never to see her again.”
    She wanted nothing more than to forget the incident, but Emma’s curiosity had been piqued, and she promptly launched her own investigation. Before long she discovered that the woman was an actress, who had confided to several friends her determination to enter the WhiteHouse as a servant, learn the secrets of its inhabitants, and publish a scandalous account to the world. “She underestimated your principles, and your loyalty,” said Emma, clearly relishing her triumph at discovering the scheme.
    “Let that be a lesson to us both.” Elizabeth never would have accepted a bribe, but she knew others would have had no qualms about doing so. When she thought of how