Crystal turned to face Olivia. “I’ve identified the house and I’ve hired a hack for tomorrow afternoon. Will you go with me?”
“Crystal! You’re still fussing about that mysterious name? You really intend going up to the door and asking for an Evangeline Cabet? Suppose she’s your aunt, and that she’s a—bad lady?”
“I’m certain the information won’t utterly devastate me. Anything is better than not knowing.”
“This is very important to you,” Olivia said slowly. “Is it because you have it in your head that you’re adopted? Why can’t you just accept Catherine’s rudeness and forget about it? Crystal, you are a beautiful person; isn’t that enough?”
Slowly Crystal walked back and forth across the room. “I don’t know how to explain it. It’s a feeling—how do you put words to a feeling?”
Abruptly Olivia grinned. “This is too good to miss! Of course I’ll go with you. Perhaps she will be a long-lost cousin or something, someone you’ll be able to invite to the tea next week. You know Miss Hanson urged us to invite someone to represent our family. I see your invitation still on the dresser. Tuck it in your pocketbook. Who knows? She may be an old maiden aunt, eager for the least bit of notice.”
Olivia paused and frowned, “If only I could hear from Matthew right now, I’d ask him to bring a friend for you.”
“A Harvard law student!” Crystal gasped. She began to laugh. “Olivia, to think you chastise me for having an imagination! If your brother comes, it will be a miracle; if he brings a friend, I doubt the tender hearts of these old maids will be able to stand the strain!”
Olivia grinned, “Let’s go downstairs and tell them. They are planning the decorations for the parlor; that should be a splendid motivator!”
“I must finish my history assignment right now or I’ll not have time for my trip tomorrow.”
Olivia watched Crystal turn to the door. “I need to study, too. Until tomorrow, when the conspirators—” Her laughter ended as soon as she saw the expression on Crystal’s face.
The next afternoon, after checking the gloomy weather, Olivia selected her heaviest cloak. As she went down the stairs, she recalled Crystal’s face. She’s afraid. What could have happened in her past to do this to her?
Crystal stood waiting for her in the hall. Olivia glanced at her face, then at the hand clutching the doorknob. With a twinge of pity, she realized Crystal was still afraid of what she would find.
For a moment Olivia hesitated, and some of Crystal’s fear touched her. She gulped and looked at the melting snow on the floor. “I wonder why the powers that be chose January for a gala?”
Crystal shivered as they stepped outside. “I wonder why the Bostonians didn’t just eliminate January from their calendar.”
The hack driver looked them over as he helped them into the cumbersome carriage. “Is this all o’ them?” Crystal nodded nervously and looked at Olivia, who shrugged her bewilderment.
When the horse turned out of the quiet street and headed for the Boston Commons, Olivia whispered, “Do you have any idea where we are going?” Crystal shook her head. Her eyes were still wide with apprehension.
The driver turned his head. “You ladies are expected?” When they didn’t answer he said, “Likely won’t find them at home, but if you wanna leave a card, I’ll wait. Another six bits to take ya back to the Academy.”
Crystal nodded and he settled into his collar again.
Olivia gulped and crossed her fingers inside her muff. The driver was turning down a side road, and it wasn’t good. The houses were small, and the dooryards were filled with litter.
She glanced at Crystal, who was chewing her lip again. But abruptly the carriage turned once more, and a smile of relief brightened Crystal’s face. This avenue was wide and tree-lined. The driver followed a lane to a big house—brick, and very respectable. Olivia grinned at her friend as the driver addressed them again. “I’ll wait.”
At the door, Crystal handed over her calling card. Her voice was breathless as she said, “I need to talk to—to explain. May I see your mistress?”
The man’s composure wavered slightly. He glanced at the card and his frown disappeared. “Come into the drawing room,” he whispered. “Madame is preparing to leave, but I will see if she will spare you several minutes.”
When his footsteps no longer echoed, Olivia whispered, “Oh, Crystal, your bluff did it! What shall we find?”
Crystal shook her head and placed her fingers against her mouth. There was a hint of sound, an opening door. In another moment the drawing room door slid open.
An elderly woman stood in the doorway, clothed all in black. She looked first at Olivia and then at Crystal.
“Miss Cabet?” Moving toward Crystal she said, “I understand you’ve come to make inquiries? How may I help you?”
Crystal caught her breath, hesitated and then in a rush she said, “I’m looking for Evangeline Cabet; will you please tell me about her?”
The woman shook her head, “My dear, you’ve come years too late. For a short time she lived here until her departure for Europe. I understand she settled in France. Where, I have no idea. I would be glad to give you information, but I have nothing more to offer.”
Slowly Crystal moved and caught her breath. “Could you tell me about her? Please, I know nothing.”
The woman hesitated. Finally she said slowly, “She was a stranger who was here only a short time. I can tell you nothing I know as fact. Would you care to see a picture of her? There is one poor photograph of the entire group. Come.”
She crossed the room and pulled an album from a cabinet. Resting it on a desk she lifted the heavy pages, one by one. While Olivia looked around the room, Crystal leaned over the desk. “There!” The woman exclaimed, pointing to a group picture. “I knew I could find it. It has been a long time.” Her voice was musing, sad.
Crystal leaned and peered. Finally, with a disappointed sigh she straightened and smiled at the woman. “Thank you for your time. I—I suppose I’m destined to be frustrated. I don’t recognize her.”
For a moment the woman paused, opening her mouth as if to speak. Then abruptly, with a brisk wave of her hand, she dismissed them and turned away.
Olivia saw the tears shining in Crystal’s eyes as she followed her into the hack. They had nearly reached the Academy when Crystal exclaimed, “Olivia, who was that woman? They acted as if I knew, and I didn’t think to ask her name. And what was the significance of the group Evangeline Cabet was with?”
With a shrug, Olivia said, “I have no idea, but then I know little about Boston society. We could return and ask.”
“The butler said she was leaving. I’m nearly positive he’ll give out absolutely no information—you saw that look on his face.”
“I think I agree with you,” Olivia murmured.
****
Matthew was hard pressed to keep up with Alex’s long stride. When they reached the Commons and were waiting for the traffic to clear, Matthew said, “Mind telling me a little about this highly secret meeting we’ll be attending?”
“Secret?” Alex said slowly. “There’s nothing secret about it at all. I simply wanted a Southern gentleman with me while I made the call. You know, a touch of civilization.”
“Well, it must be important. We walked past the tavern and you didn’t so much as slacken your pace.”
“It is so,” Alex murmured. There was a break in traffic and he led the way, sprinting between the carriages and lorries.
With a grin he turned to wait for Matthew, saying, “It would be safer to brave the Commons on horseback, but my allowance doesn’t cover such luxuries right now.”
“And you have to feed a horse hay, not beer.”
Ignoring the comment, he waved. “It’s down this way. Look for number seventeen. You might know the gentleman. He’s from Georgia. Name’s Mallory.” He stopped to look Matthew in the eye. With a quizzical smile he said, “His job seems solely to keep his finger on Washington’s pulse. I’ve known him for years—an old friend of the family. He was a chum of Father’s from school days. Never married, so we sort of adopted him, called him Uncle Charles. I’ve met him here several times. The first time was after my freshman year at Harvard. Among other things, Mr. Mallory liked the grades I made and some of the fellows I chummed with. Does that tell you anything?”
Matthew shook his head. “Go on.”
Alex shrugged. “That’s enough for now. Let’s go see him. Matter of fact, anything else I might add is purely conjecture.”
But his grin was jaunty, and slowly Matthew said, “Sounds to me as if they’ve an eye to using the curry brush on you. Make you a nice little pony for an unspecified cause to ride.”
Alex faced Matthew soberly. “It isn’t cause so much as supporting the right to freedom—our freedom.”
“The right to have slaves?” Matthew said slowly, studying Alex’s face. “Maybe I’m the wrong person to be here.”
“I want a critical ear. I figured you to be the most fair critical ear,” he added with a grin.
The man who opened the door was decidedly Southern, but he was white and clumsy. Matthew balanced his hat on his fingertips until Mallory joined them. Mallory nodded to them, pointed to Matthew’s hat and said, “Ham, you’ll never make it in Washington until you mend your ways.”
Leading the way into the library, he gestured to the group of chairs pulled close to the fire. “Ham is still in the rough. I must admit our Negro butlers have developed a finesse these mountain men will never learn.” He paused, adding, “Perhaps they are more motivated. My father always said the first step in training a Negro is the whip. Nothing takes until he learns who is boss.”
He uncorked the decanter on the tray and lifted his eyebrow. Delicately Alex said, “Harvard promotes only a beer budget.”
Mallory chuckled and nodded at Ham. “You’re a man after his heart.” After pouring each of his guests a beer, as well as one for himself, he also sat down. “Alex, I’ve seen your family during the past month. They are well and send you greetings. Your father tells me you’ll graduate this year. What are your plans?”
“To pass my examination and then get on with life. I suppose that will include going home for a few months.”
“Ah, that should’ve been easy to guess. You miss the Carolinas and the water.”
Alex nodded, “And Father owns a little rig. Just a small fishing and hunting boat, but she’s good. It’s fairly new. I need to work over the paddles—it’s a stern wheeler. Needs a little varnish, and then I intend to take it up the river for a little hunting.”
“Up the river? Where’s it docked?”
Alex chuckled. “New Orleans. I forgot to mention that. Father owns a piece of river property down that way. A boat like ours is no job for the ocean. It only draws three feet of water. About a hundred and twenty feet long. Just a family toy.”
“Cotton?” Alex blinked, and Mallory added, “You said you have property in New Orleans. I wondered—”
“Yes. Father doesn’t spend any time there. He has an overseer on the property.”
“I suppose it’s fever country in the summer.”
Alex nodded and shifted in his chair. Mallory turned his attention to Matthew. “You have another year, I understand. Any aspirations toward politics?”
Slowly Matthew placed his tankard on the table. “Politics?”
Mallory leaned forward. “Certainly. You’re from Mississippi, and you are a third-year law student. Surely you realize this interview is more than a pleasant interlude. My job is to make certain the South’s interests are suitably represented in Congress.” He added briskly, “Right now Alexander Duncan is one of our most promising sons.”
He slanted a grin toward Alex and added, “As soon as he gets the play out of his bones, and maybe drags that boat over a few sandbars, it will be time to present him to the people.”
Slowly Matthew asked, “Just what do you have in mind?”
“Basically, to keep a few strong men in Washington. The old men representing our interests won’t last forever.”
“And you want to groom the young ones to think and act in the interests of the South?”
Alex’s head jerked up. “Matt, it sounds to me like you’re a mite cynical.”
Matthew kept his voice even. “I just don’t like having people tell me how to think.”
“Well, we certainly have no intention of doing that.” Mallory quirked one eyebrow as he lifted his glass. Matthew gulped his beer and waited.
Mallory set his glass on the table and leaned forward. “One thing you youngsters didn’t seem to get along with your mammy’s milk is an appreciation for the years of hard work that have gone into making the South what it is today. I don’t intend to educate you this afternoon, but I do suggest that if you’re interested in preserving the life, now’s the time to act.”
****
On the way back to the boardinghouse, Matthew kicked at a clump of dirty snow and remarked, “I know the story; it all started back in about 1827 with the first tariffs. About the time cotton prices were down. Since then, tariffs have continued to cut into the market. I’ve heard my father talk about it all too often. But the market is still there and getting stronger. Matter of fact, it’s the yeoman suffering now. And Piedmont—they’ve been crying for banks and money for loans to finance their small businesses.”
As they headed back the way they came, Alex walked slowly with his hands in his pockets. “I guess I’ve had my head in the sand. Guess too, that I’ve known all along it would come down to this.”
“What do you mean?”
“My father hasn’t come right out and said it, but I know he expects me to make good, and I know he means Washington.” He faced Matthew. “I think I’m getting a better feel for it all since I’ve come North.”
“Politics?”
“More than that. Matt, this country is teetering on some mighty big worries right now. I don’t think I understood how big they were until I studied Constitutional law. Back home we’ve been snug and secure with the idea that the Constitution supports slavery.”
“But it does. It’s a necessary evil. Alex, I don’t like the idea of one man holding another in bondage. I like it even less since studying law.” He paused, adding thoughtfully, “No, it’s something else. Maybe I’ve started thinking about fairness.”
“Fairness is one way of putting it,” Alex added, “but I wish I could stop there. How long can you think about fairness until you start thinking about responsibility? And equality.”
They were in front of the Harvard Public House. “Matthew, let’s go rest our weary brains in here.”
Matthew hesitated. Blackstone awaited, along with the stack of notes, on his table. He nodded. “Might as well. If nothing else, we’ve had a chance to hash over the problem.” He quirked a grin at Alex. “If I flunk out, I won’t have to worry about whose political horn I’m tooting.”