A Perfect Silhouette

by Judith Miller

  “You need not worry, Mr. Stark,” Mellie said. “I will maintain your confidence.” She met the older man’s gaze. “Do you think your wife plans to continue holding lotteries in the future?”

  “I do not. Once the lottery proceeds—”

  “Did I hear someone mention the lottery funds? I thought we’d resolved that matter.”

  Mellie and Morgan jerked around. Mrs. Stark stood in the doorway. She was wearing a sable-trimmed velvet cloak, one hand still enclosed in a matching sable muff.

  Morgan pushed to his feet. “You’re correct, Mother. Why don’t you join us? You know Miss Blanchard, of course.”

  Mellie nodded. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Stark.”

  The older woman nodded. She didn’t appear particularly surprised to see Mellie. Perhaps because Morgan had already spoken with her about their relationship. Or perhaps the maid had warned her upon her return.

  Mr. Stark stood and pulled another chair close to his desk. “I thought you went to visit Eugenia Higgins.” He lifted the cape from his wife’s shoulders and draped it across a settee on the other side of the room.

  “I did, but apparently her illness was overstated and she’d gone on an outing. I left the chicken soup, however.”

  Mr. Stark tugged on his earlobe. “I’m glad you’ve returned, my dear. We were just talking about the lottery. Miss Blanchard was curious if you were planning to conduct future lotteries, and I assured her you wouldn’t be doing so. Isn’t that correct?”

  She nodded. “That’s right, my dear. I’ve already given you my word.” She leaned toward Mellie. “I hadn’t considered the ill effects a lottery could have upon some people, but Morgan didn’t hesitate to show me the error of my ways.” She looked over at her son. “Did you, Morgan?”

  “I believe you needed to know, Mother.”

  “You’re right, I did. After considering all the facts, I realized I’d pursued something that resulted in hurting the people I love, as well as hurting people I don’t even know.” She paused and gave her husband a sweet smile. “And for that I am exceedingly sorry.” Then she turned back to Mellie and added, “So Mr. Frederick is forming a committee to distribute the lottery proceeds where they are most needed. Perhaps you’d like to serve on the committee, Miss Blanchard. Any ideas how you would distribute the money if you were in charge?”

  Mellie was taken aback by the question—shocked that Mrs. Stark would ask her opinion. “I think I would start a school for the children who work in the mills. One within the mill yard so they could come and go with ease.” She looked the older woman in the eyes. “Of course, I tend to lean toward giving children a good education. I was a tutor before I came to Manchester, and I have always cherished the fact that I received a good education.”

  Mrs. Stark nodded her approval. “That sounds like an excellent idea. I hope you’ll serve on the committee. I’m sure you could offer other excellent ideas as well on how best to spend the lottery funds.”

  Until Mrs. Stark said the words lottery funds, Mellie hadn’t given thought to the fact that she was making suggestions for money that had been raised through a lottery. Could she even consider such an idea? She shook her head. “I don’t think I’m one to serve on the committee, Mrs. Stark, but I’m certain there are many in the city who would be willing to get involved.”

  Mrs. Stark nodded. “As you wish. I won’t insist. Would you mind if I passed your idea along to Mr. Frederick?”

  “Not at all, although I’m sure Mr. Frederick will receive numerous ideas and a good number of volunteers, as well.”

  His mother glanced at the mantel clock. “Why don’t you join us for supper, Miss Blanchard? We still have much to discuss.”

  Chapter

  twenty-nine

  MORGAN MAINTAINED A CLOSE EYE ON HIS MOTHER throughout supper and was careful to lend an ear each time she spoke. Much had been accomplished this afternoon, and he didn’t want her to say or do anything that might cause a setback.

  Mellie had attempted to refuse the supper invitation due to improper attire, but his mother had been quick to ease Mellie’s misgivings. She’d immediately stated that their evening meals were quite informal. After a bit more encouragement and assurance, Mellie finally agreed to join them.

  They’d just finished their beef and barley soup when his mother looked across the table at Mellie. “I didn’t have an opportunity to speak with you before you departed after the party, but my guests were all delighted with your renderings. They said their silhouettes were the best Christmas gift I’ve ever presented at any of my parties. That’s quite a compliment, as I’ve hosted a party for more than fifteen years now.” Her shoulders squared to a new height.

  Mellie broke off a piece of her roll and picked up her butter knife. “Thank you. I’m pleased to hear you didn’t have any complaints.”

  “Complaints? Dear me, no. In fact, several of the ladies asked how they could contact you. I wasn’t certain what hours you worked at Mr. Harrison’s shop; however, I did tell them you were sometimes there during the evening. That’s correct, isn’t it?”

  Mellie nodded. “Yes. I’m there most evenings after seven-thirty and after five-thirty on Saturdays, since the mills close earlier on Saturday.”

  “Tell me, Miss Blanchard, how did you and my son first meet? Was he strolling through the mill one day and you struck up a conversation with him?”

  Mellie suppressed a chuckle. “No. The first time I saw Morgan was at the train station. I dropped my book, and he kindly returned it to me, although we didn’t introduce ourselves then. The next time I saw him was in the photography shop, yet I didn’t recognize him. I don’t believe Morgan has been on the weaving floors at the mill. If so, I have never seen him there. Besides, having a conversation while the machinery is in operation is impossible, Mrs. Stark.” She hesitated a moment. “Have you ever visited the mills?”

  She clasped a hand to her bodice and shook her head. “No. Never.”

  “Well, the noise created by the machinery makes it impossible to be heard unless you shout. Even then, you must be nearby or you won’t be heard. It’s so loud that I sometimes stuff small pieces of cloth in my ears.”

  “That could permanently injure their hearing, William. You and Morgan should do something to help in that regard. You don’t want to be responsible for ruining the hearing of the Manchester citizens, do you?”

  Morgan tilted his head, surprised to hear his mother had any concern for the company employees. In truth, he’d never heard her make mention of the mills until recently. “When did you become such an advocate for the working man and woman, Mother?”

  A blush colored her cheeks. “Don’t make fun of me, Morgan. When I didn’t discover Eugenia at home, I made a brief stop at church before returning home. As it turned out, the pastor was there. We had a long talk, and he prayed with me.” She leaned toward him. “It was your talk with me earlier in the day that prompted my stop at the church. The pastor pointed out that because of my position, there is much I could do to help the community. And it sounds as though there’s much that can be done to help the workers in your mills, William.”

  His father chuckled. “I understand there’s much to be done. If you’ll recall, that’s why I gave Morgan permission to hide his identity and accept a position as a mechanic—so that we could make changes where needed.”

  Mrs. Stark lifted her chin and nodded. “Perhaps you should speak to Mellie and ask what changes will help the female employees, as well. It sounds as if their working conditions need immediate attention.”

  His father sighed. “Yes, dear. We’re going to be working on it.”

  “I’m pleased to hear that, and I’m offering my assistance, if it should be needed.”

  “Thank you, my dear.” He gave her a warm smile. “I will keep you apprised of any assistance you might provide.” He accepted the platter of roasted chicken from the maid and set about carving the bird. “I do believe that’s enough talk of the mills for one evening.”
He looked up from his carving. “How do you plan to spend your Christmas holiday, Miss Blanchard?”

  Before she could answer, his mother shifted in her chair. “Why, you could spend the holiday with us. We would all be delighted to have you join us—unless, that is, you have already made other plans.” She beamed at Morgan, obviously hoping the invitation would please him.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Stark, but I do have other plans. My sister and her children live in Concord. I’ll be taking the early-morning train and spending the holiday with them. I’ve not had an opportunity to visit them since I moved to Manchester, and I miss them very much.”

  Mrs. Stark appeared momentarily thoughtful before giving a slight nod. “I do understand. Family is important. What about Christmas Eve? You could attend church with us. We open our gifts when we return home from church. You could spend the night here and leave in the morning, or you could return home for the night, if you prefer.” She took the platter of chicken from her husband and passed it to Mellie. “Do you live in one of those boardinghouses near the mills?”

  “I do. The accommodations aren’t perfect, but I’ve become friends with some very nice young ladies since I arrived.” Mellie forked a piece of chicken and passed the platter to Morgan. “I do thank you for your invitation. Perhaps Morgan and I can discuss it a bit further and come to a decision.”

  “Yes, of course, but I hope you’ll accept. We’re a small family, and we would enjoy your company for the evening. Christmas Eve is such a special time, don’t you think?”

  Mellie nodded. “I do, and I promise—Morgan and I will discuss possible Christmas plans.”

  His mother’s demeanor since her return surprised Morgan. He’d hoped his talk with her would have an impact, but he hadn’t expected her to welcome and accept Mellie so soon. Perhaps the change had more to do with the conversation she’d had with the pastor than anything he’d said. Then again, it was likely the combination of the two.

  After they’d completed their meal and retreated to the parlor to visit for a brief time, Morgan leaned close to her. “Do you need to work this evening, or can you stay a while longer?”

  “I need to go to the photography shop. Mr. Harrison is expecting me, and I’m sure Mrs. Richards has already made a notation in her ledger that I missed supper.”

  He stood and extended his hand toward Mellie. “We must return to town so that Mellie can attend to her work at the photography shop.” When his mother and Mellie walked toward the foyer to retrieve her coat, Morgan moved to his father’s side, whispered in his ear, then followed him to his office.

  “William! Where have you and Morgan gone off to?”

  Morgan stepped to the office door. “We’re in here, Mother.”

  Moments later, the two ladies joined them. His mother clasped Mellie’s hand in her own. “I’m sorry you must rush off, but I’m glad we had this time to visit.” His mother turned to Morgan. “Promise you’ll bring her back soon.”

  “I will, Mother.” He was certain she’d wanted to add something about Christmas Eve but restrained herself. He smiled at the thought.

  On the buggy ride to town, Morgan reached for Mellie’s gloved hand. “What are you thinking now?”

  “I enjoyed meeting your parents. Your mother was far more attentive than I expected, and your father seemed genuine.”

  He chuckled. “I think my mother has examined her priorities, and I believe with God’s help she can truly become the woman He wants her to be.” He squeezed her hand. “Mellie, please tell me you understand all of the subterfuge now. Please tell me you believe me. I don’t know what else I can do to restore your trust in me.”

  She searched his face. “I do wish you would’ve confided in me, but like your mother, I’ve had the chance to examine my heart. I was hurt and angry. A part of me even wanted you to suffer as I had. But as I look in your eyes, I know you are still the good, kind—and honest—man I fell in love with.”

  “So you trust me?”

  Her eyes glistened with tears. “With all my heart.”

  He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I will do everything in my power to prove I am worthy of both your trust and your love.”

  Their spirits were high when they arrived at the shop, and they were surprised to discover a number of customers awaiting Mellie’s arrival. Mr. Harrison scurried to the front of the shop when he caught sight of her. “I was concerned when you didn’t arrive on time. And then Cora stopped in to see if you were here. She said you’d left work early, and nobody knew where you were.”

  Morgan inched through the crowd. “It’s my fault, Mr. Harrison. She was with me, and I failed to get her to work on time.”

  He accepted Morgan’s apology, but clearly he remained unsettled. “All these customers are here because they met Mellie at your mother’s party and want additional silhouettes or want her to cut silhouettes at their own parties.” He shook his head. “She’s not going to have time to attend all their parties and work here, as well.”

  Before Morgan could respond, Mr. Harrison hastened to the rear of the shop to help a customer choose a frame. For the remainder of the evening, Morgan waited quietly and watched Mellie as she assisted each customer. Though he could see she was exhausted, she offered them care and kindness. He marveled at her ability to create the perfect silhouette for each person who sat down in front of her. He offered a silent prayer of thanks that God had sent this woman into his life. And now that he’d found her, he planned to love her for the rest of his life.

  When she’d finally bid the final customer good-bye, Morgan retrieved her cape and placed it around her shoulders. “Ready?”

  She nodded. “It’s been a long evening. I’m thankful we can ride in the buggy rather than walk home tonight.”

  He smiled and reached into his coat pocket. “You can give this to Mrs. Richards. It’s a note from my father. After reading it, I don’t think she’ll mark you absent for supper.”

  “Thank you, Morgan.” She grinned. “She may not mark me absent, but I’m going to guess she’ll keep the note just to show her friends that she received a personal message from the company owner. It will be quite a feather in her cap.”

  Morgan laughed and helped her into the buggy. Once settled close to him on the leather seat, she rested her head on his shoulder. “There is something I’d like to ask you.” He nodded, and she inhaled a deep breath. “If I join you and your family on Christmas Eve, would you consider going to Concord with me on Christmas Day? I’d like for you to meet my sister and her children. Having you at my side would make the day a true celebration.” She lifted her head from his shoulder and smiled at him. “I think you’ll find my niece and nephew quite entertaining.”

  He squeezed her hand. “In that case, how could I refuse?”

  Chapter

  thirty

  WITH THE HELP OF CORA AND CLARA, MELLIE STEPPED into the emerald green shot-silk gown that had been packed at the bottom of one of her trunks. When leaving Concord, she’d packed it with little expectation of ever wearing it again. Yet she’d been unable to leave it behind. Worn only once for a gathering at Governor Dinsmoor’s mansion in Concord, she was pleased she’d elected to bring it with her. After fashioning Mellie’s hair, Cora inserted a wreath of miniature silk roses and white feathers. The overall effect was stunning.

  Cora stepped away and gave a firm nod. “You look absolutely beautiful. Morgan won’t be able to look at anyone else.”

  Mellie chuckled. “The guest list is very short, so I don’t think I’ll need to worry overmuch. Other than the two of us, his parents are the only ones who will be present.”

  “How disappointing when you look so lovely, but I suppose Morgan is the only one that truly matters.” Cora adjusted the thin green ribbons that circled the puffed tulle sleeves of the dress. “Are you giving his parents a Christmas gift? I’m not certain what you would give wealthy people who can afford to purchase whatever they want for themselves.”

  �
��I’m not sure if they’ll be particularly pleased, but I made and framed silhouette cuttings for each of them. For Mrs. Stark I made a silhouette of the mansion, and for Mr. Stark a cutting of the Stark Mills. I hope they’ll be well received.”

  “Oh, that was a wonderful idea. I’m sure they’ll be delighted.” Clara moved closer and sat on a trunk. “We received a letter from our ma yesterday. They didn’t wait to open their gift from us, and she said they already hung the silhouette you made of Cora and me on the wall. She sure thought it was a good likeness.”

  “They went ahead and opened it because you put a note in the parcel, telling them they didn’t have to wait until Christmas.” Cora shook her head. “Clara didn’t tell me she’d done that until after we mailed the package. If I had known beforehand, I would have taken it out. Now they don’t have a gift to open on Christmas.”

  Clara shrugged. “This way they have more time to admire it. Besides, they’ll have gifts from the young’uns. They always make things for ma and pa.”

  “Well, I’m pleased to know they liked their gift.” Mellie stood, walked to her small trunk, and opened the lid. “I have a gift for each of you that you can open tomorrow.” She extended a small package to each of them.

  Cora grasped the gift, then stared at the gaily tied bow. “I know it’s selfish of me, but I wish you were going to be here with us. It’s going to be lonely without you and Phebe. Still, I’m glad you’re happy and that Phebe decided to go and see her folks.” Cora offered a fleeting smile. “I must say, though, I’m a little jealous that you get to spend the night at the Stark mansion.”