15 

Sarah did not often go to church.

The plain fact was that the Banning household staff, like all the domestics on Prairie Avenue, was routinely occupied with their responsibilities on Sunday mornings. But the family was gone, and even Leo had left early on Sunday morning to spend the day at the lake with his parents and stay overnight. Sarah had not slept after the ball, instead lying in bed savoring the minutiae of the evening. Now she was in the courtyard leaning against a rounded stone ledge in the morning sun. Her mind continued to replay every dance step with Brad, the delicious morsels of conversation, the promise of more times together in the weeks to come. Daydreaming was almost as invigorating as sleep.

Karl popped out of the kitchen. “Let’s go to church,” he said.

Sarah scoffed. “I haven’t been in ages.”

“So why not go today?”

“I had a late night.” Sarah closed her eyes and turned her face to the sun.

“You’re already up.” Karl put his hands out, palms up. “Admit it, you don’t have anything better to do.”

Sarah looked Karl in the eye. “Is that really why you want to go to church? You’re bored?”

“I love the hymns,” Karl said. “But I don’t like to sit by myself. Come with me.”

“Maybe I have something better to do.”

He nudged her elbow. “Go put on one of those suits you’re always making.”

An hour later Sarah stood in the balcony at Second Presbyterian Church, on the left side of the sanctuary, looking down on the main floor while the congregation sang a hymn. Karl sang with gusto, but Sarah had quit singing after the first stanza.

I belong down there.

The Banning pew was empty. Every year Samuel Banning donated slightly more money than the year before for the privilege of his family’s reserved seating on the main floor. Other Prairie Avenue families had pews scattered around the sanctuary, while domestics and day workers climbed the stairs to the balcony that ran around three sides.

As the fourth stanza of the hymn began, Sarah saw Serena Cuthbert materialize in the vacant Banning pew, wearing a rose crepe dress that outshone anything around her and a hat fashioned from matching fabric. Serena held a hymnal and sang. Sarah watched. When the hymn ended, Serena gracefully lowered herself into the pew and arranged her skirt. Sarah sat next to Karl and sighed. When Sarah moved her eyes, Serena faded.

The pastor stood to preach and announced his theme—belonging to God above all else. He held an open Bible in one hand and preached to the main floor, rarely lifting his eyes for a glance at the balcony.

I belong down there.

Karl leaned over and nudged Sarah. “I can tell you’re not listening to a word he says.”

Sarah shrugged. What did the pastor know about what she needed?

Two rows in front of her sat Charlotte and Archie Shepard, with Henry nuzzled in Archie’s lap. Charlotte leaned a contented shoulder against her husband. Sarah supposed they were happy enough, but to her they were a drab reminder of her own ambitions. What made them happy would never be enough for her. And why should she settle, when Bradley Townsend clearly found delight in her presence?

Sarah looked down at the main floor again, her eyes drifting toward the rear of the sanctuary.

She gasped.

Lillie Wagner sat between her parents.

“I have to go,” Sarah whispered to Karl.

“Are you ill? I’ll walk you home.”

“No, you stay. You love the hymns, remember?” Sarah could not risk being spotted in the balcony, nor in the company of a driver. If she did not leave now, she might be trapped in the departing crowd after the benediction. Stepping as quietly as she could, Sarah found the stairs and was out the side door of the church before the minister gathered his full preaching steam. Lillie was expecting Serena Cuthbert for tea in five hours. Sarah chided herself for letting Karl persuade her to go to church. She should have known that a family like the Wagners would attend Second Presbyterian.

“I want a full report.” Lillie handed a teacup to her friend. “Don’t spare a single detail.”

Serena Cuthbert sipped delicately. “But weren’t you out with Paul last night? You must have a story to tell as well.”

Lillie smiled at the warmth that rose in her chest. She had the attentions of Paul Gunnison and the confidence of Serena Cuthbert, a blissful combination.

“You first,” Lillie urged. This was such a pleasant way to spend a Sunday afternoon. She took up the embroidery project in her lap, a square white tablecloth with copper-colored stitching meandering around the edges. She could stitch, remember her evening with Paul, and be regaled by Serena’s story all at the same time. As Lillie aimed a fresh length of thread at the eye of her needle, Serena launched into her account. Several times Lillie let her hands lie idle in her lap while she leaned forward to soak up the details Serena offered.

“You tell it so beautifully!” Lillie said at last. “I can picture the Palmer House in my mind’s eye and imagine the orchestra and the servants and the dancing and the flowers. It all sounds fabulous.”

“It was a spectacular evening,” her friend assured her. “Some of the most important people in Chicago were there, and Brad seems to know them all.”

“Of course he does. He’s very well connected. That’s why my father likes to invite him to business events. Having a seat at the board of trade makes him quite popular.”

“Yes, I heard him telling someone about an important deal that is supposed to happen tomorrow morning. Of course I don’t know details, but it seems Brad expects to make money personally as well as on behalf of his clients. He has already asked me to tea tomorrow afternoon, so no doubt I’ll hear about it then.”

Brad probably was more wealthy than Paul Gunnison, Lillie realized. He was more ambitious and charismatic. Paul had gone into the family candy business, and while the company had been growing steadily in the last few years despite the recession, it would not likely lead to sudden enormous profits. But Lillie was content with that prospect. The early signs of Paul’s affections were more satisfying than she had dared dream, and Lillie was confident he would always provide a comfortable home.

“Has Paul spoken to your father yet?” Serena asked.

Lillie loved the conspiratorial hint she heard in Serena’s voice. “Not yet, but I feel it will be soon.”

“I’m so glad things are going well with you and Paul,” Sarah told Lillie. “You seem very well suited to each other.”

“We are!” Lillie poured more tea into Sarah’s china cup on a saucer and handed it to her.

“Surely your parents would be thrilled with the match, since your fathers are in business together.”

“Paul wants to prove himself,” Lillie said. “If the future of the company is to be in his hands, he wants both our fathers to be confident he can do the job.”

“No doubt he’s already proved himself,” Sarah said. “It’s only a matter of finding the right moment to speak to your father, and then you can see Paul as much as you both like. Before you know it, he’ll propose!”

“I hope so!”

Sarah smiled into Lillie’s eyes. She meant everything she said. Paul and Lillie did seem like a good match, and Frederic and Edith would find little to object to. Serena Cuthbert could be the bride’s attendant at a society wedding. A pale peach gown took form in Sarah’s mind.

If—when—things progressed to that point with Brad, Serena’s mother would become too ill to travel home from Europe and both parents would give their blessing for Serena to marry Bradley Townsend in their absence. Sarah would produce the elegant letter. Later, the Cuthberts would be tragically lost at sea. Or some such story. Perhaps it would not have to be as dreadful as all that. Sarah would sort everything out as the need arose.

Lillie picked up her embroidery project. “I had the oddest sensation in church today. We visited Second Presbyterian Church for the first time. Mother and Father have heard that many Prairie Avenue families attend there.”

“Yes, I’ve heard that as well.” Sarah swallowed and set the teacup on a side table. “What did you find odd?”

“They say everyone has a double somewhere in the world. Yours was in the balcony at Second Presbyterian.”

Sarah narrowed her eyes and tilted her head. “That is odd.”

“She was dressed nicely enough,” Lillie conceded, “but she seemed haggard, overworked.”

Sarah gestured to the project in Lillie’s lap. “What are you working on there?”

Lillie took the cue. “It’s for my hope chest,” Lillie said. “Mother insists.”

“Have you sewn many things for your hope chest?” Sarah took note that once again she had little trouble distracting Lillie from a subject she preferred not to discuss.

In all the time Sarah had spent making gowns, it had not occurred to her she ought to work on linens. Now she could see clearly that a woman of Serena Cuthbert’s standing would have followed the tradition of embellishing linens for her future home. Sarah was going to have to find time to work on a few pieces so she would be ready when Brad proposed.

“I have a few tablecloths in various sizes,” Lillie said, “twelve napkins, three sets of pillowcases, and two sets of towels. Of course, I can’t monogram them yet.”

“I’m sure you’ll know the right initials soon,” Sarah said.

Lillie let her project drop in her lap. “Every now and then I wish I could stitch something that mattered. I heard that Lucy Banning Edwards works with the orphans at St. Andrew’s. I’d like to do something meaningful like that.”

“I thought you had not met Mrs. Edwards—or any of the Bannings.”

“I haven’t,” Lillie responded, “but everyone up and down the Avenue seems to know about her work. I’m eager to meet her.”

“Prairie Avenue families contribute to many charities. You could choose any worthy cause for your donation.”

Lillie tilted her head. “I suppose so. But Mrs. Edwards inspires me. I want to do more than give a donation. It wouldn’t even be my own money, after all. If I could arrange to meet Mrs. Edwards, I could ask if there is anything I would be qualified to do. It might be simplest to just stop in at St. Andrew’s, rather than wait for a formal introduction.”

“There must be a score of charities you could volunteer for.” Sarah’s heart rate jumped. If ever there was a time to distract Lillie, this was it. “Jane Addams, for instance, has opened a settlement house.”

“Mother would object to that, I’m sure. Don’t the workers live in the settlement house?” Lillie resumed stitching. “I can just see Mother getting squeamish about the squalor and fearful that I would catch some dread disease. I confess I have a great deal to learn about their work myself.”

“Then the Chicago Orchestra.” Sarah forced even breaths as she stood up and casually wandered toward the front window. “The Glessners have been instrumental in organizing the orchestra. Mrs. Glessner might have a suggestion for how you could help. I’m sure your mother will meet her as soon as the Glessners come home from New Hampshire.”

“I enjoy going to concerts,” Lillie said. “Paul has promised to take me when the orchestra begins their new season. But that’s not the sort of thing I’m after. I want to help someone who really needs it.”

“You’ll want to find something appropriate to your standing,” Sarah said. “Fund-raising, then.”

“Oh, I don’t care about that,” Lillie said. “Anyone can raise money. I’ve never had the opportunity to truly help someone in need, but I think I would like to do it.”

“What would your parents think?” Sarah clasped her hands behind her back, her fingers a tight web of nerves.

“Mother might not allow me to volunteer at St. Andrew’s, but surely she could not object if I were to sew for the children. Mrs. Edwards might suggest what they need.”

Sarah let out her breath and returned to her seat on the settee. “That’s a wonderful idea. I’d like to help you!”

“Really, Serena?”

“Yes. We could make dresses for the little girls. And shirts for the boys. I would imagine children in the orphanage wear a lot of castoffs and hand-me-downs. Imagine how delighted a little girl would be to get a new dress!”

“Yes!” Lillie was on her feet now. “Do you know how to make a dress? I’ve never done anything but linens.”

“I’m sure we could figure something out,” Sarah said. “I’m certain my dressmaker would draw us a pattern.”

“That’s perfect!” Lillie put the embroidery down and began to pace. “If I had a pattern to follow, I’m sure I could manage the seams and hems.”

“I’m sure you could. We both could. We can both gather some fabrics.”

“Mother has a wardrobe full of textiles she never had made up. Father thought she should have given them away in Cincinnati before we moved, but she brought them. She’ll let me use them.”

“Then we’re off to a wonderful start.”

Lillie halted her pacing. “But how will we get the dresses to the orphanage? How will we know what sizes to make them? Which girls need them the most?”

Sarah twisted on the settee to look at Lillie. “You handle getting some fabric from your mother. I’ll handle contacting St. Andrew’s.”

“You would do that?” Lillie’s eyes widened.

“I’ll take care of it,” Sarah assured her. “Your social calendar is so full, and with my parents out of the country I have much more freedom.”

“I envy you, Serena,” Lillie said. “You’re full of ideas and not afraid to try anything.”

“You’re the one who said you wanted to help,” Sarah pointed out. “I’m just sorting out the best way to do it.”

And the best way to keep Lillie Wagner away from St. Andrew’s.