by Jane Peart
"Are you quite finished, Hetty?" she asked coldly. "If you are, I have something to say. I doubt that you care about my reputation. And for your information, Mr. Corcoran is as perfect a gentleman as I have ever met here or anywhere else. Furthermore, I like to make up my own mind about people, not be told whom I should speak or walk with. It was your husband who introduced me to Mr. Corcoran in the first place, and Ned seems to have high regard for him. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to take off my bonnet and open my box from my mother!"
Holly brushed past Hetty, biting her lip to avoid saying anything more she might regret. Without another glance in her cousin's direction, Holly shoved the heavy box with her foot across the floor, down the hall. She went into the bedroom, letting the door bang behind her.
She was angry. Angry for losing her temper. Even angrier that Hetty could make her this upset. Worse still, it spoiled what Holly had hoped would be a happy, conciliatory occasion. Hetty's outburst had prevented her from sharing the books her mother had sent for all of them to enjoy, to perhaps bridge the gap that separated them.
The longer she was here, the more impossible it got. Was there no solution? Was there no escape?
Chapter 7
Holly had no sooner reached the haven of the bedroom when there was a sharp rat-a-tat-tat on the door. Whirling around, she yanked it open to face a flushed Hetty.
"I don't want you to start giving Aurelia the notion that she can loll around looking at books all day. I'm trying to teach her to do her fair share of chores, and there's plenty for her to do to help around here, so I'd suggest you put those books out of sight."
Holly stared at her cousin in disbelief. "You don't want Aurelia to enjoy books?" she gasped.
"People out here have more to do than daydream and live make-believe lives. Things out here don't come easy. People work hard and don't have time for nonsense."
"But Hetty, our family always loved to read. You and I both were given books when we were little girls," Holly protested, and leaning into the box, she pulled an Alice volume out to show her. "Look, see what Mama sent? Don't you remember how we loved Alice in Wonderland?"
Hetty's expression just got grimmer. "I guess you didn't hear what I said—I want Aurelia to fit in; I don't want my daughter to grow up any different, with high-falutin' ideas, thinking she's better than anybody else," and she turned around to leave.
Still, Holly made one last try. "Can't I even give this to the children as a gift from my mother, Hetty?"
"I've said what I meant and I meant what I said," was Hetty's rejoinder as she marched back down the hall to the kitchen.
Totally bewildered, Holly shut the door again and sat down on the edge of the bed, Hetty's words echoing in her head. They brought back the hilarious discussion that Alice had had with the Duchess that, as children, they had repeated endlessly, always dissolving into helpless laughter afterward. Holly, now recalling that ridiculous dialogue when Alice says, "I say what I mean and I mean what I say," to which the Duchess replies, "Nonsense! That's like saying that I see what I eat is the same as I eat what I see"—and on and on wondered if Hetty had inadvertently mouthed the same words without realizing the source? Were there, after all, some happy memories of their shared childhood that Hetty couldn't suppress?
What was behind all that fury? What did Hetty really mean by saying she didn't want Aurelia to be "different"? Would reading, enjoying good books, make Aurelia grow up dissatisfied, discontent, unhappy in this environment? What was Hetty really saying? Was she talking about Aurelia or herself? It seemed that everything she tried to do, every time she turned around, she met Hetty's opposition. How could she possibly go on here with Hetty?
Frustrated, she shoved the box of books under the bed, took off her bonnet, and pondered the bleak prospect of the year ahead. If there were any place she could go, Holly would have packed up and left on the spot. There seemed no way to get along with Hetty. But with no viable alternative until she could figure out what to do next she would just have to accept it. Only a miracle could change the situation. And were miracles a common commodity in 1882?
Out of the blue, or so it seemed, help came from an unexpected source. One evening a few days later, when Ned came home from the store, he handed Holly a note. "Mrs. Dodd left this for you."
Surprised, Holly opened it and read it eagerly. True to her promise, Mrs. Dodd had written,
My dear Miss Lambeth, I cannot tell you what pleasure reading Silas Marner afforded me. I am indebted to you for the enjoyable hours I spent with the book you so graciously lent me. I would like to return my thanks by having you to tea, Wednesday next at three o'clock if you are free to come? I always take Wednesday afternoon off, and so look forward to entertaining you. You may send word by Mr. Thornton, as I plan to be in the store on Tuesday to pick up some material he ordered for me due to arrive that day.
With kind regards,
Viola Dodd.
On Wednesday afternoon Holly dressed with special care, aware that she would be viewed by a professional who would notice every detail. She chose a simple but stylish ensemble, a jade-green velvet hat trimmed with a cluster of feathers. When she emerged from the bedroom and came into the kitchen, ready to leave for Mrs. Dodd's, Aurelia looked up from the floor where she and Teddy were building with blocks and asked, "Oh, Holly, are you going to a party?"
Hetty was at the ironing board, but at that she looked up. Her narrowed glance at Holly revealed her curiosity, but her tightly pursed lips said she would rather be tortured than ask Holly where she was going.
Determined not to let Hetty's manner bother her, Holly spoke pleasantly, "I'm going over to Mrs. Dodd's; she's invited me to tea."
"Viola Dodd may put on fine manners, but after all, all she does is sew for other people!"
Although usually Holly made a point of not getting into arguments with her cousin in front of the children, this, however, was too much. This mean-spirited remark shocked Holly into responding, "What an unkind thing to say, Hetty!"
Hetty turned crimson.
Afraid that this could escalate into a full-blown argument or worse, deliberately, Holly controlled herself. Smiling at the children, she went to the door. "Good-bye, then, I'll see you later." Aurelia's sweet little voice followed her—"Have a nice time, Holly!"
In Viola Dodd's parlor there was none of the clutter of the popular decorating style, influenced by the English Queen Victoria, found in most houses of the time. It was not overloaded with the prevalent trend for crocheted antimacassars, China dogs, painted seashells, artificial flowers under glass domes. Instead it had the quiet taste of its owner.
When Holly remarked on a silver-framed photograph on top of the piano, showing a lovely young girl, Mrs. Dodd said simply, without further explanation, "My daughter, Avesta; she's away at boarding school."
Mrs. Dodd—"Please call me Vi,"—served a delightful tea consisting of egg salad sandwiches cut in triangles and a moist lemon sponge cake. Holly relaxed at once in her hostess's warmth. Soon they were chatting as if they had known each other a long time. Holly had spent many hours in her bedroom reading to avoid Hetty during the day without Ned's presence as a buffer. So, books were a natural topic of their conversation. Holly discovered Vi loved the novels of Sir Walter Scott and that they shared a very favorite author in Charlotte Bronte.
All too soon the melodious chiming of Vi's mantel clock reminded Holly that she had stayed past the acceptable time for a first-time call. However, it had been such a pleasant respite from her tension-filled existence at Hetty's that she hated to leave.
"Oh, do you have to go?" her hostess said, seeming almost as reluctant to have her leave. "There are so few ladies here in Riverbend I find I have enough in common with, although I'm sure there must be others who enjoy books and reading as much as we two, but most are married with small children which puts me—and you—out of their circumstances, doesn't it?"
"But does it have to?" Holly demanded. "At home, back in Willow Spri
ngs, I know my mother and aunts have friends in their Garden Club, for instance, who are all ages and in different walks of life—some of them are spinsters like me and—" She halted suddenly saying, "Oh, I'm sorry. Of course, you're not a spinster, I forgot you have a daughter."
Vi only smiled and went on to say, "You're quite right. I'm sure that's the best way to look for friendships. Not age nor situation but common interests." She paused as though thinking for a minute. They were now standing in the little hallway. Then Vi said slowly, "I don't know whether you'd be interested or not but just suppose—"
"Suppose what?"
"Suppose—we had some sort of book club. Invite some ladies to get together maybe once a month to discuss books, exchange them, and so on?" Vi suggested.
"Why, yes! But whom would we ask to join?"
"We'd first have to find out who in Riverbend likes to read. Sadly enough, there is no library. ..."
Just then Holly thought of the box brimming with books under her bed. Hetty's disdain of having them around, the letter from Mama saying she was sending more—
"I'm getting an idea!" she exclaimed. "But I guess I better think it through a little bit."
"If it's on the line of a book club, I'm all for it." Vi smiled as she opened the front door for her, "I'm so happy you could come today, Holly. I haven't enjoyed an afternoon so much in—I couldn't tell you how long. Please come again soon."
"As soon as I get my idea figured out better, I'll talk it over with you," Holly promised as they walked out onto the porch.
"Pray about it!" was Vi's surprising suggestion.
"You sound just like my Great-Aunt Ancilla!" Holly laughed as she went down the steps.
"I hope that's a compliment?"
"It is!" Holly assured her.
The afternoon was well along, and Holly hurried through the gathering autumn dusk, filled with enthusiasm about her new friendship and excited about the plan stirring in her mind. But when she stepped inside Hetty's house, she was greeted by a smoldering look from Hetty and her announcement, "You're late. I'm serving supper now. Ned's been home a half-hour."
Holly started to apologize but Hetty's next words chilled. "Ned brought another box from your mother. If it's books ..." the implied threat was in Hetty's voice, but Holly did not wait to hear it. She went back to the bedroom to take off her hat and jacket and saw the large carton at the door. Oh, dear Lord, what now? Holly murmured to herself, not knowing it was a prayer.
Later that evening, upon opening the box, she found a note from her mother inside: "Dear Holly, I trust by this time you are settled in at Hetty's and things are going smoothly." Oh, Mama, if you only knew, Holly sighed, then read on: "I hope it won't upset you to know that Jim Mercer and his bride are here visiting his parents. ..." Reading this, Holly felt a dart of pain. Surprised by it she wondered if it was wounded pride she felt or regret? Would any mention of Jim always hurt her in some way? She read on: "—and I heard she was going to remain here since his next post is in some unsuitable place for wives."
Her mother had written something more, then scratched it out heavily. Curious, Holly held it up to the light so she could read through it. "Jim's mother introduced me to her after church on Sunday, and she is quite pretty."
She would be! Holly thought miserably, then continued with the letter: "Well, your father wants to take this box to the post office, so I shall close now. Hoping you are in fine spirit and good health, everyone sends love."
Squeezed at the bottom of the closely written page was a post-script: "Great-Aunt Ancilla just came by and wanted me to enclose these for you." Several small tracts fell out of the envelope. Holly fanned them out in her hand seeing a picture of the dear little old lady in her mind. Across the top of the first one in bold black type was the Biblical instruction: "Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might." Slowly she reread it; wasn't this the same tract she had found in her hanky that day in the woods?
Her one hand was resting on the top of the new box of books, and she repeated the quotation to herself: "Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might. . . ."
The half-formed idea that had come to her as she left Viola Dodd's burst into full possibility. Vi had said, "Pray about it." Great-Aunt Ancilla had sent the tracts! Maybe this was the answer to her unspoken prayer? Why not? This might well be the guidance she had been seeking, the direction she was looking for. Could it actually be? It did seem more than coincidental that this tract with the same message had come to her twice.
Feeling that Ned would know how such a project would be received, a few evenings later Holly decided to tell her idea at supper and find out his reaction. She had hardly finished speaking when Hetty let out a sound suspiciously like a snort. "A lending library!" her tone was derisive. "Who in Riverbend has time to read silly novels?"
Holly held on to her temper. "They wouldn't be all novels, Hetty. Mama sent a variety of books—and she's sending more—"
"My land! Where does she think you're going to put them, for pity's sake?" Hetty demanded. "Does she think we have a house as big as the Lambeths'?"
"That's just it, Hetty. I know you don't have room here. That's why I thought, perhaps . . . ," and Holly glanced hopefully at Ned who was listening intently, "... that Ned might have a small corn at the store where we could keep the books and I could be there certain hours to take care of lending out books. I would think some of the mothers would particularly like the nice selection of children's books Mama sent—"
Before Hetty could interrupt again, Ned spoke up, "I think that's a really good idea, Holly. I could put up a few shelves for you. I think people might be very interested. As long as they're in the store anyway. I know the copies I get of the Farmers' Almanac go almost as soon as I put them out. With no town library here, I think we'd be providing a great service for people."
Hetty's mouth pressed into a straight line. If Ned was for the idea, she wasn't about to contradict him no matter how much she opposed it.
Chapter 8
Almost from the first week after Holly put up her care- fully lettered sign, LENDING LIBRARY, the venture was a success. Contrary to Hetty's dire predictions and confirming Holly's hope, the women in Riverbend were starved for books and welcomed the project.
The first day the women who had come into the store to purchase flour, sugar, and salt, and other staples, to finger the bolts of bright cloth or leaf through one of the mail order catalogs Ned kept on hand, only eyed Holly's corner curiously. Initially, most seemed too shy to investigate.
As the hours passed with no customers, Holly tried to act busy, dusting the shelves, rearranging the books. Then she got the idea to make an attractive display of some of the books with illustrated covers and print out brief plot summaries to place beside them. The next day one or two women wandered over, and Holly immediately engaged them in conversation, telling about the lending plan and encouraging them to browse and select a book if they liked.
From then on, probably by word of mouth, awareness of the library spread and grew rapidly. In two weeks' time, Holly was doing a thriving business and meeting quite a few Riverbend women.
One of the early and most enthusiastic borrowers was Geneva Healy, a plump, rosy-cheeked woman with a snub nose, bright blue eyes, and an endearing smile, who came into the store about once a week. She was the wife of a prosperous dairy farmer, Holly learned from Ned. She was usually accompanied by two small curly-headed little boys, ages eight and nine, and one about three at her heels.
The first morning she spied Holly arranging books behind the low counter Ned had built for the library, she came right over. After they had exchanged "Good mornings," she hoisted the smiling cherub onto her hip and declared, "Oh, I love to read! I've read the few books I have over and over, and here you are with a good dozen or more I've never even heard of!"
"You're welcome to take one if you like. Just pick out what you want, then sign this little card, and I'll mark the date and give you three weeks to
return it. If you haven't finished it then, you can take it out for another two weeks. Does that sound fair?" Holly asked. She was rather unsure if she should bend the rules of the three-week "borrowing time" for a woman with small children and a household to keep. Hetty just might be right, Holly worried, maybe none of the Riverbend women did have the time or inclination to read.
But Geneva seemed delighted. She introduced herself, and when Holly did the same, Geneva looked astounded. "You're Hetty's cousin? I'd never have guessed. There's no family resemblance, not a bit! Not that I know her well. Not well at all, as a matter of fact. I've just seen her at church, and before she had her little boy she used to help out here in the store once in awhile." Geneva put her head to one side, regarding Holly again. "Well, well—"
Geneva must have told her friends because within the next few days Holly did, according to Ned, "a land-office business" in books. She always greeted the tentative customers pleasantly and asked them what type of story they liked, then suggested titles they might want to borrow, explaining they were allowed to keep them three weeks before returning them.
The response to the library was gratifying. Hetty had implied that many of the women, isolated on remote farms, burdened with endless chores, felt they didn't have time to indulge in reading. Holly found that most of the women had come to Oregon, leaving family and friends in the east and midwest, and experienced real loneliness. But with Holly's encouragement they now discovered that reading gave them a welcome outlet and provided an interesting break in their otherwise lonely routines.
It was Geneva Healy who actually organized the Riverbend Literary Society, confirming Vi's original idea. "We can have the first meeting at my house," Geneva offered. "We'll keep it simple, just cake and tea so the hostess won't have to fuss; we can just have a good time talking books! What do you think?"
"I think it's a wonderful idea!" Holly agreed enthusiastically, and so the Riverbend Literary Society was formed. That day Holly came home excited about the idea and in her elation shared Geneva's suggestion with Hetty. "Won't that be lovely? A real chance to get together and talk about something other than recipes and babies!"
