“Oh yes, the monkeys,” Frank said at last, taking his eyes away from Pearl and looking at the older woman. “They’re very clever, aren’t they? Now, how would you like to take a drive about the city?”
As they passed the capitol building, he pointed to the dome and said they could go to the top the next day. “I remember you are a better climber than I am,” he told Pearl.
“Well, you won’t catch me gadding about up there in the air,” Mrs. Travers said. Pearl thought she saw Frank smile, and she hoped they could climb the steps together, just the two of them.
When they returned to the hotel, Mrs. Travers announced she was tired and that it would be a good idea to order supper sent to their room, “for you will want a soon start in the morning.” Pearl was disappointed. She wanted to spend the evening with Frank, but being agreeable, she nodded.
“Tomorrow night, I’ll take you to dinner and a movie,” Frank told them, “unless you prefer a play. There is the Broadway Theater just across the street.”
“I can see a play in Georgetown. I want to go to a picture show. Besides, Papa suggested it,” Pearl told him, a little surprised at herself, since she’d never cared to see a movie before. But then, she’d never been asked to attend a movie by Frank Curry.
CHAPTER 10
IN THE MORNING, THE TWO women took the omnibus down Sixteenth Street to Daniels & Fisher, the fashionable store that Frank had recommended, where Pearl chose a delicate pink wool frock that was cut in a severe style. The pink was an odd choice for a woman with Pearl’s red hair and pale skin, but it looked so stunning on her that Mrs. Travers sucked in her breath when Pearl modeled the gown for her. Made without trimmings, the dress gave the girl a sophisticated air. “You look pretty as thundersnow,” the older woman said, referring to that rare combination of lightning, thunder, and snow, a phenomenon that turns the sky a strange shade of pink. “It’s the color of your name,” Mrs. Travers added, a look of self-satisfaction on her face at her bit of poetry, because she was a plainspoken woman.
After the dress had been fitted, Pearl gave the clerk the Georgetown address, then asked suddenly, “Could you alter it today, so that I might wear it tonight?” The clerk consulted with the seamstress, and they agreed that it might be done and delivered that afternoon. “I can wear the dress to the picture show, Aunt Lidie,” Pearl said, her eyes glowing. “Now we must find something for you.”
Mrs. Travers protested that she had enough dresses to last her till the noon of doomsday, but Pearl insisted. “Papa said we were both to go shopping, and I mean to buy you something fine to wear.” So they found a tweed suit that Mrs. Travers pronounced finer than anything she had ever seen at the Presbyterian church in Georgetown, and the two hurried off to O. P. Baur’s to meet Frank for luncheon.
Inside the restaurant was a pink and white marble soda fountain the likes of which Pearl had seen only in photographs. The fountain stretched the length of the room, and a mirror behind the back bar made it appear even larger. Silver knobs and handles gleamed against the marble, and young men hurried back and forth with dishes of ice cream and tall glasses and spoons—“ice cream and soda water. It’s called a soda and was invented in this very restaurant,” Frank told them.
“Then we must have one,” Pearl exclaimed.
“I thought you didn’t care for ice cream,” Mrs. Travers whispered.
“Oh, but I do,” Pearl replied, adding softly, “Now.”
After they were seated at a table and had ordered their luncheon, Mrs. Travers announced, “We followed your advice and went to Daniels & Fisher, where we spent enough money to ransom the Queen of Sheba.”
“I did not know the Queen of Sheba had been kidnapped,” Frank said, and they all laughed. Then he added, “I’m glad for it. I’m sure the money was well spent.”
“I suppose you’ll see this evening,” Mrs. Travers said. “Pearl insisted that her dress be finished in time for the outing.”
Pearl colored, embarrassed that Mrs. Travers had told on her. “Where do we go next?” she asked quickly, looking aside to hide the flush on her face.
“I’m sorry it’s late in the year, or I’d take you to see a baseball game. But I think you would like the capitol building. We’ll climb all the way to the top. You can see Mount Evans from there.”
“I can see Mount Evans from home and up close. I’m too beat out to climb all those stairs just to look at a mountain,” Mrs. Travers told them.
And so, after they had finished eating—and Pearl had pronounced the ice-cream soda as good a thing as she had ever tasted—the couple delivered Mrs. Travers to the hotel, and then they walked the two blocks down Broadway to the capitol building. Pearl delighted in the structure, the dome that was covered with gold from the Colorado mines, the halls lined with marble, the grand golden staircase. They made their way to the top floor and found the wooden stairs leading to the dome. There were not so many steps, and they were not very high, and Pearl wondered if Frank had exaggerated the climb to Mrs. Travers to discourage her from accompanying them. The idea that Frank might have fibbed in order to be alone with her sent a thrill through the girl, until she decided that the more practical reason was Frank thought Mrs. Travers too old to manage the stairs and was only saving her from discomfort or embarrassment. As she ascended the stairs, Pearl felt Frank’s hand on her back, the warmth of his skin through her dress, and she moved slowly, savoring his touch.
As they climbed to the dome, they passed a party of four men coming down from the top. The men stepped aside on the landing to allow Pearl to pass and doffed their hats, exchanging pleasantries with Frank. Then as three of the men started down the steps, the fourth looked closely at Pearl and said, “Why, it’s Miss Dumas, isn’t it? We have met in Georgetown when I’ve called upon your father.”
Pearl did not know if she cared to be recognized, but there was nothing to be done about it, and she introduced Frank to the man. “May I present Mr. Frank Curry,” she said to him. “Mr. Curry, I have the honor of introducing you to Governor Shafroth.” The two men shook hands, and Pearl added, “Mr. Curry is an associate of my father’s. He’s in the molybdenite business. In fact, he is president of the Colorado Molybdenite Company.”
“Ah yes,” the governor said. “I wish you well, young man. I must catch up with my party. Germans they are, come to look at our mines. Give my kindest regards to your father, Miss Dumas.”
Pearl and Frank watched as the governor hurried down the steps and disappeared, and Frank said. “You are full of surprises. You never told me you knew the governor.”
Pearl shrugged. She was not so impressed with rank and office. “He wasn’t governor when I met him. He was plain Mr. John Shafroth, come to ask Papa about a legal matter. In another year—or three, if he’s not reelected—he’ll be Mr. Shafroth again.”
They reached the top of the steps and walked out onto a little balcony that circled the dome, Pearl glad that no one else was there. “Look,” Frank said, making a wide gesture with his arm. “Isn’t it fine? Straight ahead is Georgetown. We could see your house if the mountains weren’t in the way. I bet you can see for a thousand miles.” He turned to look at Pearl.
Pearl considered that. Then, since she was not one to exaggerate, she replied, “A hundred miles anyway.”
“A thousand miles straight up into the air,” Frank said.
Pearl stretched her neck, raising her head to stare at the clouds. After she looked down, she suddenly felt dizzy and reached out for the railing but clutched Frank instead. When she saw what she’d done, she drew back, but Frank would not let go of her. He took both of her arms and asked, “Are you light-headed?”
“Oh no,” Pearl answered quickly, because she did not want him to think her one of those women who fainted at the least thing. “I’m all right.” After a pause, she said, “You can let go of me now.” She wished he would not, however.
“I don’t want to,” Frank said.
Pearl drew in her breath at the words. Th
en thinking she had misunderstood, she repeated. “I am perfectly all right, Mr. Curry.”
But Frank did not let go. “Of course you are. Everything about you is all right.”
Pearl only stared at him, confused, looking for an explanation, telling herself Frank surely was talking about her health, but she hoped he meant more. After all, he had said such lovely things at the zoo the day before.
The young man gripped her arms tighter. “Miss Dumas—Pearl. May I call you Pearl?”
“Yes,” she answered tentatively.
“You are the finest young woman I know. I’ve never met anyone like you. I knew that first day, when you opened the door and let me into your home, that you were someone I could care about. And I do care about you. In fact, I believe I love you.” He paused a second. “I mean I do love you.”
Pearl stood so still that it was as if she no longer breathed.
“Might I hope you could feel the same way about me?” Frank continued.
He looked into Pearl’s eyes, waiting for her to reply. But all Pearl could say was, “I…” and she grew mute. Her heart and tongue did not seem able to work together, and she felt all-overish. She turned away from Frank and began wringing her hands. “I…” she said, and was mum again.
“I hadn’t planned to declare myself just yet. After all, we’ve known each other only a few months. But something made me say it. Besides, what’s the reason to wait? I don’t want someone else to claim you. Surely you have other suitors.”
“But I haven’t,” Pearl told him.
Her lack of guile seemed to embolden Frank. He took a deep breath and said, “I believe you’ve known all along how I feel.”
“Oh no. I haven’t. No,” Pearl said, her face crimson. Nothing in her life had prepared her for such a pronouncement.
“Tell me to stop, and I will.”
“No. I don’t want you to stop,” Pearl said, finding her voice at last. “You have judged me rightly, Mr. Curry. I have never cared for another man as much as I do you. In fact, I have never cared for another man at all.”
“Then I will ask if you would consider joining our lives together, for it would give me so much happiness if you would agree to be my wife.”
“Oh,” Pearl replied, barely able to speak, so overcome was she with happiness. “Oh yes, I would consider it. I mean, I don’t need to consider it. I can answer now. Yes.”
“Splendid!” Frank replied, gripping Pearl’s arms so tightly that the young woman was afraid he would cut off the circulation. “But I must be square with you. I haven’t much to offer, although I believe if you’ll be patient for a while yet, my molybdenum mine will be worth a fortune as large as your father’s. If we marry now, we won’t be able to entertain lavishly or live in a grand style, but I think you do not care for such things.”
“No,” Pearl breathed, and emboldened, she added, “I care only for you.”
“We’ll find a modest house—in Georgetown or Leadville or Denver, wherever you prefer.”
“But you could live with us,” Pearl said, because she had never considered living anyplace but the Georgetown house. “After all, it’s called the Bride’s House. My mother went there as a bride, and now I will. There is no better house in the world.” Pearl closed her eyes as a thrill of emotion went through her. She thought of herself dressed in an ivory gown standing beside Frank in the red parlor as they took their vows. “Besides, Papa would want us to live with him. Would you do that?”
“If it would make you happy,” he said. “I wouldn’t want to tear you away from your father.” He stopped talking then and drew Pearl to him and kissed her on the lips.
The girl stared at him in surprise. She had never been kissed before and did not know how to respond. But in a second, she closed her eyes and kissed him back. “Are we engaged, then?” she asked.
“We are that,” Frank told her. “I consider us promised, and I shall hold you to that promise for the rest of your life.”
“Then I have never been so happy.”
“Nor I. You decide the day, but I would like it to be soon.”
“First, you must speak to Papa. He will expect you to, you know. We don’t want to get off on the wrong foot with him.”
“I will at the first opportunity. You don’t suppose he will object, do you?”
“Papa? He thinks only of my happiness. He’s never said no to me. And he won’t this time, not when he knows how much I care about you.”
Frank put his arm about Pearl’s waist and held her a moment longer, and the two of them looked out over the city to the mountains toward Georgetown, where they would make their home. They went back inside the dome, with Frank descending the stairs first in case Pearl should trip. The young woman, who was sure-footed and did not need such protection—indeed, she was so overjoyed that she might have floated down the steps—nonetheless reveled in that solicitous gesture from her future husband.
* * *
Pearl did not return until half past six, just thirty minutes before they were to meet Frank in the lobby of the hotel. If Mrs. Travers noticed Pearl’s mussed hair, her high color and dreamy demeanor, she would have chalked it up to the girl’s excitement over the climb to the top of the capitol building, her new dress, and the upcoming outing to Curtis Street. The old woman herself was greatly agitated at seeing her first picture show. “Shuckle now. You’re as slow as sorghum,” she chided. But in fact, the two were dressed and waiting downstairs when Frank arrived. They planned to take in the motion picture, then return to the hotel for a late supper.
Pearl was ecstatic when she saw Frank walk into the lobby, his clothes perfectly pressed, a gray felt hat in one hand, an ebony walking stick with a gold knob in the other. She could scarcely believe that this handsome man had just declared himself to her and asked for her hand. Frank looked over the new pink dress and motioned for Pearl to turn about so that he could see it from all sides. Then he declared it to be perfection—the most striking gown he had ever seen and a perfect complement to Pearl’s complexion. “Every man in the theater will envy me escorting two such lovely ladies,” he said.
Mrs. Travers ran her tongue over her teeth in what might have been a gesture of humbug, but the other two failed to notice.
Frank procured a taxicab that whisked them to Curtis Street, which was aglitter with electric lights. The streets and the picture palaces were covered with thousands of them, “more than all the stars in the heavens,” Pearl exclaimed, and even Mrs. Travers was made speechless at the sight of them. Frank purchased the tickets and handed them to an usher, who showed them to their seats. Pearl sat between the other two.
In a few minutes, the theater grew dark, and the velvet curtains opened, revealing a large screen. The movie began, and so did a piano player, whose music heightened the action. The picture was about a train robbery, and Pearl was so taken by the reality of the movie that she sat on the edge of her seat and cried, “Oh no, look behind you,” when the villain pointed his gun at the hero’s back. After the picture was over, she put her hand to her throat to finger the cameo, her gesture of nervousness, but she had not worn it. So she clasped the neckline of her dress and told Frank, “I was so caught up … I mean, for a moment I thought it was real.”
“And so did everyone else. You weren’t the only one who warned him, was she, Mrs. Travers?” Frank asked.
The older woman raised her chin and said, “It’s perfectly understandable,” because she herself had cried out louder than Pearl.
They stayed for the second picture, a comedy with two silly men caught up in foolishness. Pearl did not care much for slapstick and watched silently, not paying so much attention this time, because halfway through the picture, Frank put his hand over hers and let it rest there, under her purse, where Mrs. Travers couldn’t see it. The old woman, however, was so caught up in the picture—her laugh could be heard all over the movie palace—that the young couple could have stolen out of the theater without her paying the least attention.
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br /> Pearl had hoped Mrs. Travers would plead tiredness as she had the night before, and thus leave the couple alone. But she was in high spirits and accompanied them to supper and even for an evening stroll past Frank’s hotel, just a block from the Brown Palace, to the capitol, which shone with electric lights. “This is the best day that ever came down over my head,” she declared, as she took Pearl’s arm and all but dragged the young woman to the elevator, after they returned from the walk.
“Yes,” Pearl replied, looking at Frank. “Yes, I believe it is.”
So Pearl and Frank were denied the pleasure of being alone that evening. Nor did the two manage a moment to themselves the next day, because Mrs. Travers was with them every moment, from the time Frank met them for church until he escorted them to Union Station.
Pearl longed to ask Frank when he would come to Georgetown, but she did not want to seem anxious. She was delighted when Mrs. Travers asked, “Will we see you again this week, Mr. Curry?”
Frank shook his head. “I am going east on business and won’t return for a month.”
When Pearl uttered a disappointed, “Oh,” he said, “Perhaps two weeks if things go well. I will come as soon as I can, for I have something important to discuss with Mr. Dumas.”
“Where will you go?” Pearl asked.
“New York, Washington, perhaps New Orleans.” He smiled at her, as if the words had a secret meaning, and Pearl smiled back, because now she knew that Frank, not her father, would take her to those places, perhaps on their wedding trip.
“Not Egypt?” she asked.
“Not this trip.”
Mrs. Travers did not pay attention to the silly words or see the long look the two gave each other; instead she watched the train back into the station. When the conductor put down the stool, and the passengers began to board, Mrs. Travers told Pearl, “Get aboard, or we shouldn’t have a decent seat.” The young woman reluctantly followed the older woman to the train.
The Bride’s House Page 17
