The Belle of Nauvoo - Book One

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

As the poet says, the eloquent blood spoke in my cheeks. I had need to hide those cheeks behind my fan when I saw the object of my desires milling about with the gentlemen. Every time I saw Lorin Walker, this happened to me. As it never occurred in the presence of other young men, I took it as a sign that he was the beau meant for me. Several of my favorites were with him – Garrett Ivins, James Monroe, Horace Whitney, and William Cutler. But Lorin Walker was my most favorite beau. He was the first of the Walker children to stay with Uncle Joseph; and from the time I first met him standing in Uncle Joseph’s yard by the well, I adored him, though I was much too young to be noticed by such and older boy. (He was five years my senior.) I was shy of him then, also. He ran errands for Uncle Joseph and often came to our home on Water Street. When he came, I would grow quiet and ladylike, hoping he would notice me.

Lorin grew up to have a noble bearing, yet he kept his merry heart and great love for the Lord. We became acquainted. During the past  year, when we had served together in the Young Gentlemen’s and Ladies Relief Society in assisting the poor, he had proved both resourceful and dependable. His brow was wide and clear and intelligent. Though he did not wear clothes that were distinguished by refinement, his cravats were tied with a dash that I could not help but admire. And he owned a great tall chestnut horse that was almost as fine as Old Charley, my uncle’s horse.

Eliza, Emily, and Lucy were already in the dining room when I came from speaking with my aunt. They were trading the names set at the different places on the tables, and I asked them, “Whatever can you be about, switching the place cards?”

“Don’t worry Lovina, you will be in amiable company,” Eliza explained. “We are making certain that we are, also.”

“Oh. With whom am I to dine?”

“Sister Emma placed you beside Lorin. Would you like your card to stay there?” asked his sister, Lucy.

Would I like it to stay there? Had ever a more nonsensical question been asked? “Yes, that will be fine,” I answered demurely, clutching my bag tightly at the thought. I was still too shy about my tender feelings for Lorin to share them. Other young men I might boast about, but not Lorin.

My friends giggled. I suspected that they were aware of my sentiments.

I let my eyes wander about the dining room to behold its magnificence. One hundred places were set with china, and a dias was placed at the end of the dining hall for the orchestra. All about the room hung boughs of holly and ivy with red paper ribbons. In the center of each table stood molded candy animals and stretched candy towers, all red. The rest of the tables were adorned with pine boughs, hard springerly cookies, seed pods, and corn-husk angels. At each windowpane hung a star made from welded nails that would later be broken apart to use for the temple. Two corners of the room held Christmas trees covered with popcorn strings, tatted lace snowflakes, cookie cutters, wax-dipped cookies, and candles. There were also candles on the chandeliers, which were not lighted because it was still daylight. The scene was glorious beyond words.

Dinner was every bit as delectable as the décor. Roast pheasant was served with stuffing, applesauce, and roasted potatoes. Dessert was catered by the newly-opened Scovil’s bakery. All of this was remarked upon at great length.

 In consequence of the amiable conversation I engaged in with Lorin, and perhaps because of the way I looked in my new lace collar, he asked me for the first dance, a French four.

The general and his lady opened the dance. Uncle Joseph was dressed in his bright blue uniform with shiny brass buttons glittering down its front. Aunt Emma was in gray muslin du lain. They made a handsome pair.