“Yes, she is,” Sister Agnes said. Then her features hardened. “But it does her no good, her friendship with those rich, spoiled girls. I wouldn’t be surprised if they weren’t the ones who were into this thing with her.”
“I have no doubt that you’re right, but you’ll never get it out of Leonie.”
As soon as Leonie stepped inside her room, she was greeted by all three of her best friends.
“What’d they do to you, Leonie?” Chantel demanded.
“Nothing very bad.”
“I’ll bet it was,” Simone said. “What did she say?”
“Did she try to get you to tell her who was with you?”
“Yes, she did.”
“But you didn’t,” Chantel said.
“No. I couldn’t do that.”
Damita expelled a breath of relief. “Well, what punishment did you get?”
“Nothing too bad.”
“Come on and tell me,” Chantel said. “I know it wasn’t pleasant.”
“Reverend Mother was very kind. I do without supper and have rough cleaning detail for a month.”
Damita went and put her arms around Leonie. “Don’t you worry about it. We’ll make it right with you. You’ll have a better supper in your room than you’d have in the hall. You’ll see.”
“Are you mad at us, Leonie?” Simone asked, studying the girl’s face.
“Why, of course not. You’d do it for me.”
Chantel shook her head but said nothing. “You’d better get back to your rooms now. I think probably Sister Agnes and Reverend Mother know pretty well who was in on this.”
The two girls left, and for a while Chantel tried to pry more secrets of the interview out of Leonie, but the girl said little. Finally the two girls studied their lessons and went to bed. Their huge black cat with golden eyes, Louis, who was an expert mouser, was curled up on Leonie’s bed. She had found him when he was just a tiny ball of black fur, and after much wheedling, she had obtained permission to keep him. That night Leonie was glad for his fellowship. Louis’s purr was like a tiny motor that often made her sleepy. She went to sleep finally thinking of all that had happened and praying that God would take care of her.
For the first week Damita did well getting food to Leonie at night. She bought the best that money could buy, and it had become a game sneaking it into Leonie. But eventually she tired of the extra chore or forgot. Chantel did not, however, and she saw to it that her roommate got at least the same food that the rest of the students received.
As for Leonie, it was not a terrible burden for her to lose privileges, for she had no visitors. She put it out of her mind and had already begun to look forward to the day when she would finish her studies and leave the convent. The other girls all had families to go to, but she herself had no one, and every night she asked God to provide a place for her.
Chapter two
The days passed quickly after Leonie had completed her punishment, and as her graduation date was rapidly approaching, she seemed to have more freedom than ever before.
She had thought more and more about what she would do when she had to leave the convent, and it still frightened her to think of her future.
A bright day on the first of May brought her out of the convent on a pleasant errand. She had always enjoyed roaming the streets of New Orleans, and having been assigned a few errands by Sister Agnes, she moved through the city, taking it all in.
New Orleans in 1831 was perhaps the most multiracial society in the United States. It was a rich mixture of occupations and activities with a population composed of Spaniards, Americans, Germans, Indians, and Africans. The blacks, both slave and free, made up about half of the total.
As she walked along the streets, Leonie was as usual fascinated by the streams of people who crowded each other. She passed an older woman wearing a tignon, a madras handkerchief. The woman was clasping her prayer book and obviously on her way to the cathedral.
Indians were still a common sight even at this late date, and she watched them with interest, especially a couple who had three small children. The children were silent, absorbing the sights in the streets, and it struck Leonie that she had never seen Indian children laugh, and she wondered why.
She passed black nursemaids in Lafeyette Square, some of them wheeling their small charges in buggies, others leading them by the hand.
A woman passed by carrying an enormous wooden bowl on her head, filled with calahs, coarse rice fritters. The woman cried as she walked, “Fine fritters, just made!” Leonie used some of the money she had saved to purchase a few.
Other women, mostly black, carrying their wares, shouted out their virtues. Leonie approached the woman who cried, “Blackberries, very fine!” and bought a small sack full of the rich, juicy berries and munched them as she went along. Another vendor shouted about her own delicious products, browned pecan and pink or white coconut pralines. Leonie bought a few from her as well. Then she passed through the market house situated on the levee near the Place d’Armes, an enormous sale market with more than a hundred stalls and over three hundred feet long that extended along the levee.
She wandered along its arcaded sides under its low-pitched roofs and marveled at the babble of languages—English, French, German, and Spanish—that filled the place with a perfect hum. Though it was still early, the market was crowded with sellers and buyers. She stopped at the different vendors to buy items according to Sister Agnes’s instructions. From the ceiling hung numerous spiderwebs, flies, and much dirt. The flies made a relentless buzz as they moved about.
Finally, when Leonie had bought all the wares Sister Agnes listed, she wound her way along the crooked streets until she reached one of the poorer sections of town. She had not gone far when a brutal-looking man lurched out of the alley and lunged toward her with a loose grin on his coarse features. He grabbed Leonie’s arm, mumbling, “Hello, honey girl. Come along with me. We’ll have us a good time.”
“Please let me go!” Leonie cried.
“Come on. Don’t be shy! You need to know what a real man is like, a real Kaintock.”
“Kaintock” was the term many dwellers of New Orleans applied to all Americans, regardless of their points of origin. They were a rough, rowdy bunch for the most part. Many of them were the river boatmen, the roughest of all the men. They fought with huge knives, guns, or fists and filled the jails up in New Orleans regularly.
“Here. You be on your way.”
The Kaintock turned quickly to see a tall naval officer frowning at him.
“I don’t take orders from no sailors.”
The officer had a sword at his side. He drew it in one smooth motion. “Fine,” he said. “Which arm do you want removed: your right or your left?”
Leonie backed away from the scene. For one moment she thought the Kaintock intended to challenge the officer. He put his hand on the sheath of the large hunting knife he carried—and then turned and stumbled away.
“I thank you, sir,” Leonie said, relief filling her voice.
“Why, you’re welcome, miss,” the officer said. His skin was bronze and he spoke with an accent she did not recognize. That was not unusual, however, because ships came from all over the world into the port of New Orleans. “You’d better let me escort you to where you’re going.”
“It’s just down the street a ways, but I thank you.”
The officer insisted on walking along with her, and she offered him some of the blackberries. He sampled one and said, “I’d like to have some of these to take to sea, but they wouldn’t last long. Sailors eat everything good first and wind up with nothing but salted meat.”
“It must be exciting to be a sailor.”
“It’s a hard life, miss.” The officer shook his head. “You couldn’t think how hard it is.”
“And where are you from, sir?”
“I come from Scotland. Glasgow, that is.”
“That’s far away, isn’t it?”
“Very far awa
y. Many a time I wish I’d stayed there with my old pa and been a farmer. Too late now, though. He’s gone. Nothing left for me but the sea.”
The two reached the house, a mere shack, and Leonie said to the officer with a smile, “You take the blackberries. There are plenty more.”
“Why, I thank you, Miss. You’re a bonnie lass. Be careful now. There are lots of bad characters roaming the streets of New Orleans.”
“I will. Thank you, sir.”
The house that Leonie stopped in front of was a poor one indeed. It was unpainted and made of weathered boards, some of them rotten. Gaps showed between some of the flimsy boards, holes large enough to admit a bird.
Leonie knocked on the door and thought with pleasure of the tall sailor. She had a romantic imagination, and, for a moment, she stood thinking how it would be if such a man came courting her, but she realized that was not likely to happen. Scottish sailors didn’t go to convents looking for sweethearts!
“Why, Leonie, you’re here!”
The door had opened, and Susan Barnes was wiping her hands on her apron. She smiled. “Come in. You’re just in time for tea.”
“Hello, Susan.” Leonie stepped into the house and was at once swarmed by four small children: Billy, Henry, Annie, and Dora. She put her baskets down but reached in and withdrew the pralines that she had bought for each. “Here are sweets for you.”
“Now then. What do you say, children?” Susan elicited the thank-yous from those old enough to talk.
Susan busied herself with the tea, and shortly the two women were seated at the rickety table. They sipped the rich tea and nibbled on the fritters that Leonie had brought.
The Barnes family was poor, and matters had gotten worse when William Barnes, who was from Kentucky, had been injured in a fall from a building he was working on. He had broken both legs, and the family had become destitute. William was now just beginning to get around using canes, and during all of their trouble it had been Leonie who had been consistent in her care of them. She had begged food from the kitchen at the convent and even money from the wealthier girls to keep the family going.
The children were quiet as long as they had their sweets to suck on, and Leonie asked about William.
“He’s out looking for work. Of course he can’t do manual labor, but he thinks he can find something until he’s well enough to work.”
“That was a terrible accident.”
“I don’t know where we would have been if it hadn’t been for you, dear,” Susan Barnes said fondly. She reached over and took Leonie’s hand and laid it against her cheek. “You’re a sweet girl. Not many would show interest in a poor bunch of Kaintocks.”
“Oh, it was little enough.”
“No. It was more than that. The children adore you. Can you stay a while and tell them some of your stories?”
“For a little while, Susan.”
The “little while” turned out to be more than two hours. William came home and greeted Leonie with a glad smile, adding his thanks for the food she had brought and the small bit of money that she had been able to raise. “I got a little something to do that’ll maybe last until my legs get well enough to go back to work.”
“What is that, sir?” Leonie asked.
“I’ll be in a booth down at the French Market. All I have to do is hand out a few items and take the money. I can do that sitting down. It doesn’t pay much, but every little bit helps.”
The small family pleaded with her to stay, but she said, “No, I’ve got to get back.” She hesitated, then said, “I’ll be leaving the convent in about three weeks.”
“Leaving!” Susan said with dismay. “You told us this would come, but I’m surprised it arrived so quickly.”
“Will you be leaving New Orleans?” William asked.
“I don’t really know, sir. Most of the girls have families they’ll be going to, but I’ll have to find work myself somewhere.”
“Well, the good Lord will take care of you,” William said. “He put you to taking care of us, and He’ll find someone to take care of you. You’re such a fine Christian girl that He’ll not let you suffer want.”
“I don’t mind telling you I’m a little bit worried. I know that’s a lack of faith, but I don’t have any family at all. But I still hope to find work in New Orleans.”
“You’ll be coming by to see us, won’t you, dear?” Susan said.
“Oh yes, I will. I don’t have enough friends that I can afford to do without you.”
“I think we ought to pray right now that God will open up a door for our sister,” William said. “Come here, children, we’re going to pray for sister Leonie.”
The children scrambled around, all of them trying to get as close as they could to Leonie. She sat in her chair with their hands touching her, and she felt William’s hand on her head. It gave her a strange feeling. She felt Susan’s hands on her shoulders, and William began to pray.
Such a prayer! William Barnes prayed for Leonie’s physical well-being, for her financial needs, for friends, and for God to open every door until finally he ended with, “This is Your daughter and Your handmaiden, Lord, so we’re believing that You are going to open every door for her for good and shut every door for evil. In the name of Jesus, amen.”
“Amen,” Leonie whispered. She got up with tears in her eyes. “Thank you, William. That was a beautiful prayer.”
“And God will answer it,” Susan said. She embraced the young girl, then all the children had to have a hug, and finally William himself gave her a squeeze and said, “Don’t forget. The Lord God never let any of His children go hungry. I’ve never seen the righteous forsaken nor His seed begging bread. That’s what the Book says. You must believe it, sister Leonie.”
Leonie said her good-byes, and as she left the Barnes house, she was thinking how much happier those poor people were than many of the wealthy people that she encountered. She was impressed by their faith in God, and somehow, for a moment, it was easier to face her unknown future.
The grounds of the Ursuline Convent were crowded with parents, grandparents, and friends of the graduates. The bright sunshine of May lit up the gloomy corners of the convent, and the sound of laughter and loud talk made a counterpoint against the bells as they rang announcing the ceremony.
Most of the graduates had purchased new dresses for the ceremony, and Leonie had put her skills with a needle to work and made dresses for three of her classmates. This had taken so much time that she had not been able to make anything for herself, so she simply wore a modest dress that she usually wore to church.
The excitement that filled the girls’ rooms somehow depressed Leonie. She still had no idea where she would go, and soon she expected Reverend Mother to question her on her plans. The possibilities for work in New Orleans were slender for a young woman indeed, even one with the good education the convent provided.
Simone d’Or suddently burst into the room Leonie shared with Chantel crying, “Leonie, you have to help me fix my hair!”
“Of course,” Leonie agreed and at once followed the young woman down the corridor. When she entered, she was taken aback, for Simone and Damita had made no attempt to clean up. The room was a wreck with clothes, presents, paper, and food in a wild array.
“You’re not going to leave your room like this, are you?” Leonie asked Damita.
“Why not?” Damita grinned. “Let the next student clean it up.”
“That’s right,” Simone laughed. “We’ll be through with this place by four o’clock this afternoon.”
“It won’t be a minute too soon,” Damita said. “I’ll be so glad to get away from here I could scream.”
Damita and Simone talked rapidly about their gifts, which they hoped would include travel outside the country. Leonie felt more and more left out. It was as if she were another species. The gaiety of the two girls only caused her to worry more about what she would do with herself.
The girls were interrupted when their parents c
ame in. Leonie felt out of place, so she went back to her own room where Chantel’s parents were visiting with her. “Oh, Leonie, Reverend Mother wants to see you before the ceremony,” her roommate told her.
“What does she want?”
“She didn’t say. She just sent for you.”
Leonie walked to the office, which was on the second floor. She found the mother superior looking out of the window at the crowd milling around below.
“You sent for me, Reverend Mother?”
“Yes, Leonie. Come in and sit down. It’s quite an exciting day, isn’t it?”
“Yes, I suppose it is.”
The mother superior looked carefully at the girl and saw that she was not happy. “Is there anything wrong, Leonie?”
“Oh no.”
“You’re not ill, are you?”
“No, ma’am. Not at all.”
The mother superior had gotten to be an expert at reading the faces of young women, and she saw something was vastly different about Leonie Dousett. She was usually one of the most cheerful young women at the convent, but now an air of disappointment and almost dismay hung about her. “Here, come and sit down. We have a few minutes.”
Leonie took her seat, but no matter how hard she tried, she was not able to enter into the spirit of gaiety that floated through the window.
“I’m sorry to say that the position I had hoped to find for you has already been filled.”
Disappointment seized Leonie. She had been hopeful to get the position as companion to a wealthy young woman in Baton Rouge.
“I wish it had been different,” the mother superior said. “You haven’t been able to find anything here in the city?”
“Not yet.”
“Well, you’ll find something, I’m sure.”
“Yes, ma’am, I know I will.”
“It will be harder for you than for Simone and Damita and Chantel. It helps to have wealthy parents.”
“It would be nice to have parents even if they weren’t wealthy,” Leonie noted.
The mother superior was surprised. It was the first time she had ever heard Leonie voluntarily mention such feelings. She knew the young girl had determination and courage, but she knew how hard it must have been on her with the other girls having parents, grandparents, and friends coming to wish them well while she herself was all alone.
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