There's Wisdom in Women

Chapter Four

Chapter One

Lillian McCullough:

*Crash!*

As I snapped back into cold hard reality, I was greeted with a most unpleasant sight.  A woman, about five years older than I, stood shocked in front of me.  At first I had not the slightest idea what had happened.  Then my eyes drifted down to her dress, which was now soaked with a pot full of black herbal tea.  It streamed down from the fabric and onto the ground, settling into a large puddle on the granite floor.  I was petrified.  I couldn’t at all move.

The woman gasped, bending down to pick up the millions of shards of china that were now scattered across the floor.  “Pardon me,” she said, “I’m so sorry!”

“Err, thank you Madam,” I embarrassedly muttered as watched her sweep the damage into a pile.  Then I realized the enormity of what I had just done.  I shifted nervously, and backed up real quick.  I had just dumped a whole tray of tea on a proper woman’s dress!  That’s enough to get any servant fired!

The young woman, seeming to read my worried thoughts, looked up to reassure me.  “Don’t be scared,” she said comfortingly, “none of this is your fault.”  I stared at her, an expression of surprise drawn on my face.  If I had spilled the tea at home, my mother would have nearly given me a beating.

“Pardon my saying so, Madam,” I replied shakily, “but it is entirely my fault.  I was the one who was carrying the tea, Madam….” “And I was the one who didn’t notice you.”  The woman than swiped a cloth from the sitting room chair next to us and started to sweep the huge mess into it.  I stood and watched as she carefully handled the shattered china. 

Midway through I suddenly realized that I, the servant, should be the one cleaning up the mess, not the proper woman.  Oops…

“Sorry Madam!  I believe I should be helping you!” I practically squeaked, to my chagrin.  I immediately collapsed to my knees to help her.  In that embarrassing moment, there were no words spoken.  Soon we finished sweeping the china into the section of cloth, and the woman prepared to stand up.  I felt ashamed that she had knelt in her dress to pick up the mess left by a meager servant, and an immigrant at that.

“Would you mind if I helped carry this to the kitchen?” she asked.  I blinked.  Somehow this all seemed switched around.  A proper lady like her was offering to help carry a meager servant’s mess?  Wasn’t I supposed to be the one working and not her?  She somehow seemed different than all other women I had seen in America ….

Nonetheless, I could definitely tell she saw my confusion as I tried to navigate around the mansion.  It was only my first hour on staff, so I still wasn’t certain of where everything was.  I had brought the tea from the kitchen when I had first been given this task, but I didn’t know how to follow my tracks back.  The young woman gave a small smile.

“The kitchen is this way.” she commented, and nodded towards the hallway to our immediate right.  I followed her through the doorway and into the kitchen.  She helped me set the cloth with the broken china down carefully on the counter.  I thought that after this she would just walk away to do whatever it is that wealthy women do, so I was very surprised when instead she asked a question of me. “I haven’t seen you before, are you a new hire?”

  “Yes, Madam,” was my quick reply.  I didn’t have the nerve to look her in the eye, so I just stared down at the floor.  She slowly walked towards the sink, and fingered the hot and cold water taps.  She turned back to face me, with a friendly smile.

“Why do you keep calling me that?” she laughed.  I looked at her confused.  “I’d rather not be madam, it’s so dreadfully pretentious. Call me Catherine.  Now may I ask for your name?”            

I opened my mouth, the words caught in my throat.  Why was she being so nice to me?  I had just completely ruined her dress!  Nonetheless, I continued to tell her.

“Lillian.  Lillian McCullough.  And I’m sorry, about the tea… And the dress, I can work up enough money to buy you a new one if you’d like?” 

“Oh, no!” Catherine responded.  “Please don't, you've engough trouble as it is. I'm sure the this will come out.”

“Do you live here?” I suddenly asked.  Catherine shook her head.

“No, I don’t live here,” she replied, “I still live with my partents in countryside. Mr. Blue and I are just… engaged.”

I gave a small smile.  “Congratulations!” I said quietly.  Wow… She was getting married.  That would be special.

“Thank you,” she said almost with a sigh, but as began to leave she returned to being happy agian. “If you ever need any more help navigating around, Lillian, I’m usually here.  Though I doubt you’ll ever forget where the kitchen is again!  Take care of yourself.”  And with that, she picked up the wet skirt of her dress, and walked down the hall.  I had a feeling she was headed to the powder room to clean up.              

A week later, I had been assigned to accompany Catherine as she went to get fitted for her wedding dress.  Between the tea incident and now, we had gotten many chances to talk together, at tea and at any other chance we could get.  She was one of the most extraordinary women I had ever met.  Catherine was disciplined and acted like any proper lady would, but once you got to talk; there was a funny little wit about her.  Also, she was not at all swayed from openly chatting to the servants, let alone people who were considerably younger than her.  After all, Catherine was already twenty-one years old, and I only sixteen years.  I’m almost certain Mr. Blue had noticed how much time we’ve spent talking, and I believe it is for this reason that I had been assigned to serve at her side.  Nonetheless, I was very excited.

The place where we traveled for Catherine’s dress fitting was back in the business of New York City.  We got chauffeured there in a motorcar.  I had never been in a motorcar before.  It was a strangely wonderful experience.  The whole ride my attention was glued outside, as I watched buildings, trees, and lamp posts fly past.  If it weren’t for the fact that it was not proper, I might have even poked my head out the window to catch the autumn breeze.  Meanwhile, Catherine sat back calmly in her seat, already much used to travelling like this.

Soon, we had arrived at the shop.  I was instructed by the workers there to take Catherine’s overcoat and to sit still in the corner, and if they needed any extra work done, then they’d call for me.  Wow.  I felt like some help.  I felt a bit better, however, when Catherine requested before she headed off to the fitting rooms that she’d like to have me at her side to give opinion on how the dresses fit.  I happily obliged.

Thirty minutes later I was sitting in a chair, watching her walking around the room in a laced white wedding dress.  She had surprised everyone by refusing to wear the corset that she had been given, saying that it was “too tight to be bearable”.  The thing about Catherine was, she didn’t like conforming to the limits of society.  She wanted to do something more with her life, and she wanted to help women reach their full potential.  She believed that all of us women could do anything we dreamed to if we only tried.  We could be anything; doctors, lawyers, public speakers, even authors. And some days, when all I do is clear tables and serve tea, her hope is what keeps me dreaming.