Taking Pen in Hand

“ ‘Of course, she didn’t seem like a criminal,’ explained Lucien Gignac. ‘That’s because she was very good at what she did.’ ”

—from Inside the Female Criminal Mind,
by Gill Short

It turned out that despite neither of us having ever seen her, Mr. Wilkes and I had both been contributing to the imaginary Pearl’s health improvement fund; he, understandably, at a much higher rate than I. When he learned of my situation, he telephoned to offer to replenish my Pond’s Cold Cream jar, but as it had been drained through no fault of his, I couldn’t accept that kind offer. I did, however, accept an invitation to be his guest when the great reporter Ida Tarbell spoke to the San Francisco Club. To my mind, that was the better part of the bargain. Miss Tarbell’s closing words, “Imagination is the only key to the future. Without it none exists—with it all things are possible,” not only thrilled me, they propelled me to action.

Miss D’Lacorte proved to be a trusty confidante when I approached her the morning after Miss Tarbell’s speech. I showed her the letter I’d composed, and she approved. “Looks like you’ll need a recommendation from me to C. B. Blethen,” she said.

“You don’t know what the answer will be,” I pointed out.

“Oh, there can only be one answer to correspondence like that.” She hit the carriage return on her typewriter with a flourish. “If you don’t get a yes, I’ll eat Gill’s ridiculous new tie.” We both grinned at Gill’s bemused expression.

With that vote of confidence, I sealed up the envelope containing one concise letter and one delicate object, pasted on a stamp, and headed to the post office, dodging Mr. Monson, who was no doubt bearing down on me with another gloves-and-gown assignment. “I’ll be back in a jiff,” I told him. His response was to chomp harder on that ever-present cigar.

I had my reply in less than two weeks. With trembling hands, I opened it and began to read.

October 23, 1919

Dear Hattie,

I am in receipt of your letter, and the colorful feather tucked inside, though am perplexed about its significance. As for the letter itself, it seems that the women’s suffrage cause has done more than bestow upon the weaker sex the right to vote. Apparently, it now gives women the right to make proposals of marriage. What next? I shudder to think. It is a thoroughly disturbing chain of events.

I am sorry, but there is only one action I can take. And that is to paste said letter into a scrapbook. That way, I will have proof for our grandchildren that their grandmother was always a brazen woman.

As for your worries about not setting a date too soon: I have loved you since I was fifteen and don’t see that state of affairs changing, whether there is a ring on your finger or not.

Yours. Always.
Charlie          

P. S. Mr. Boeing was pleased to learn I would be staying in Seattle.