Chapter 8

. . . her own works praise her in the gates.

Proverbs 31:31

T he moment Jacob Winslow disembarked from the dinner table at Hathaway House and waddled up the stairs to the room “with windows that open to the north please—I always sleep better when my head is pointing north,” Augusta swooped down on the table and loaded every dish onto her tray. She balanced her load carefully, barely making it to the sink before LisBeth rescued the glass that was rolling off one edge of the tray.

“Thank you, dearie!” Augusta smiled.

LisBeth teased, “Aunt Augusta! ‘Take two trips if necessary, dear. We can’t afford new china every week’!”

Augusta smiled again. “Goodness, did I make that speech that much?”

Sarah called out, “You still do, ma’am.”

Grabbing the evening paper, Augusta settled into her rocker. “Shame on you two young girls, ganging up on me like that! All right, all right—I confess. I broke my own rule.” But, listen to this, ladies!

For Centennial tickets, address or call on R. P. Miller, O Street Union Block, sign of Buffalo head, and get a ‘Centennial Guide’ now ready for free distribution, giving map and detailed statement in relation to route, rates, etc., to the Great Centennial Exhibition. Bear in mind that by this route, you reach Philadelphia hours in advance of any other lines, and that there is but one change of cars from Lincoln, and that is at the Union Depot in St. Louis, where you simply step from one train to another. . . .

Augusta stopped reading abruptly. “LisBeth, we’ve simply got to go. John Cadman took out a huge ad in the paper—here it is—fully three columns wide. All it says is: ‘John Cadman has gone to the Centennial. He will return September 1.’ Just like a man—he has to let the whole world know he’s rich enough to stay all summer in Philadelphia. And he’s so secure about his hotel that he can leave it, and it’ll run itself. It just rankles me to think of him being there to see all the new inventions. Why, who knows what ideas he’ll come home with to implement over at Cadman House. And besides,” Augusta rattled the paper for emphasis, “if Lincoln is going to grow into the twentieth century—” Augusta interrupted herself, “Oh, I know, I know, I’ll probably not see the twentieth century, but you will,” Augusta called out over her shoulder, “and so will you, Sarah Biddle. We must know the newest and best ideas around. There’s no better place to do it than Philadelphia! What do you say, LisBeth—will you go with me?” Then, in characteristic fashion, Augusta talked on without giving LisBeth a chance to respond.

“Oh, I’m an old one to have as a traveling companion, I know. . . .”

I’ll no doubt have trouble keeping up, LisBeth thought.

“. . . and Philadelphia is a long way off . . .”

I’d love to get away from here, LisBeth thought.

“. . . and, of course, it will be more work for Sarah . . .”

She already knows more about running a hotel than I’ll ever know. . . .

“. . . but I feel it my civic duty to keep up on things.”

Finally, Augusta paused long enough for LisBeth to interject, “I’d love to go, Aunt Augusta.”

Augusta didn’t hear at first, and went on, “It certainly won’t hurt to look into accommodations, then if we just can’t get away, we’ll just—” Augusta looked up at LisBeth.

“Did you say something, dear?”

LisBeth grinned. “I’d love to go.”

“You would?”

“I would.”

“But the hotel—”

“Sarah could run this hotel without either one of us, and you know it, Aunt Augusta.”

Sarah turned to look at LisBeth with a grateful smile, and LisBeth winked at her. “What do you think, Sarah. Can you get along without us?”

“I’d ask Alma Dodge to come stay. The two Cortland sisters just finished school and are looking for extra work. If Joseph will keep me in firewood, I can handle the cooking.”

Augusta was doubtful. “Don’t you want to see the Exposition?”

“No, ma’am!” Sarah blurted out. “I seen all the big cities I ever want to see in my life. You go on and have yourselves a high time. I like it just fine here in Lincoln.”

“Well, we’ll go then,” Augusta said. “But only if you’ll agree to take a vacation when we get back.”

Sarah protested. “I got nowhere I want to go, Aunt Augusta. I don’t need no vacation.” Thus only two travelers represented the Hathaway House Hotel at the Centennial in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.

“See here, young man,” Augusta announced loudly. “I don’t know what kind of establishment you think you are running here, but a hotel simply does not fail to accommodate those with reservations—”

“But, ma’am, you were late.”

“The train was late, young man. I could hardly be expected to control that, now could I? We have paid for two adjoining rooms, and I expect to get two adjoining rooms!” Augusta punctuated her demand by thumping the tip of her parasol on the highly polished floor of the elegant Philadelphia hotel.

The desk clerk bobbed his head sympathetically and turned red. “Yes, ma’am, I understand, but Mr. Braddock himself demanded these rooms, ma’am, and when you didn’t come—”

Augusta interrupted him. “And just who is Mr. Braddock, that he thinks himself so important as to throw two women traveling alone out into the street for his own comfort?”

The desk clerk looked over Augusta’s head and blushed even more fiercely. His head bobbed up and down rapidly as a rich bass voice called out, “I am Mr. Braddock, madame.” Augusta turned to face her adversary as he added smoothly, “And you may be assured that my hotel will not turn you out in the street.”

Even with his silk top hat removed, Mr. Braddock towered over Augusta and LisBeth, who had been doing her best to become part of the wallpaper during Augusta’s outburst. The tall stranger continued to talk to Augusta, but he looked only at LisBeth.

“Hanley,” he began, as the desk clerk snapped to attention and peeped, “Yes sir!”

“Hanley, there’s been a misunderstanding. Kindly send a note across town to my mother.” His eyes never left LisBeth’s. “Tell her I’ll be staying at home, after all. Send Thompson up to remove my trunk from those rooms I requested, and,” he finally turned his gaze to Augusta and offered a winning smile, “order fresh flowers for our guests with apologies from David Braddock for failing to live up to the name of our ‘city of brotherly love.’ ”

David Braddock doffed his hat, bowed gracefully to the two women, and was gone before Augusta could sputter her thanks. LisBeth took a deep breath and watched the broad shoulders exit the hotel lobby and climb into a carriage outside. She was brought back to the moment by Augusta’s satisfied voice, “Now, LisBeth, you see what I mean. Just let me do the talking and we’ll get along fine. I mean to see that we have a lovely time at the Exposition!”

The two women were led up the grand winding staircase that swept guests from the lobby to the rooms above. Just as they arrived at their rooms, Thompson exited with a gentleman’s trunk in tow, and someone else entered with a massive bouquet of fresh flowers.

LisBeth peeked into her own room and took in a sharp breath. It was small but elegantly furnished with a massive carved walnut bed and matching marble-topped washstand and dresser. A small writing desk stood in an alcove created by tall bay windows along one wall. The sun streamed through the windows and reflected off the silk drapes and bed coverings, bathing the room in rosy light. It was a cool day, and a fresh breeze came in through the transom at the top of each window.

“I know why that Mr. Braddock wanted these rooms for himself,” Augusta called from the next room. “They’re facing just the right direction to catch the cool breeze.”

Augusta was in the middle of a favorable critique of their meal when she noticed that LisBeth had flushed and developed an unusual interest in the details of the china pattern used by the hotel.

“What is it, dearie?”

“I beg your pardon, madame,” interrupted a familiar voice. David Braddock bowed and introduced himself. “Please forgive my forwardness, but lacking a mutual acquaintance, I have elected to breach custom and introduce myself. I am David Braddock, the owner of this establishment. I sincerely regret the manner in which you made my acquaintance. May I enquire as to whether your accommodations are satisfactory?”

Augusta sipped her tea before responding. “The accommodations are quite satisfactory, thank you,” she said coldly.

LisBeth felt the color rising in her face. Finally, she could stand it no longer. “Aunt Augusta! That’s not like you at all.” Looking up at Braddock, she said quietly, “Aunt Augusta is all prickles and quills—by her own admission, Mr. Braddock. But, really, she’s harmless. The rooms are lovely, thank you. I hope we haven’t inconvenienced you.”

Braddock interrupted her. “Not at all, Miss—?”

Augusta replied for LisBeth. “Mrs. LisBeth King Baird, Mr. Braddock.”

LisBeth rose from the table and offered her hand, repeating “Thank you, Mr. Braddock, for giving up your rooms for us.”

“I assure you, Mrs. Baird, it was a pleasure.” With a masterful bow, David Braddock smoothed down Augusta’s prickles and quills by bending low to brush the back of LisBeth’s offered hand with a continental kiss. Augusta stood up, reached for LisBeth, and literally herded her out of the dining room. Braddock smiled to himself and returned to his own table, finishing off an entire roast hen while completing the details of his plan to learn more about Mrs. Hathaway and Mrs. Baird—with the emphasis on Mrs. Baird.

Both LisBeth and Augusta were awake at dawn the next morning, reading over their Centennial guidebook and planning how best to attack the massive Exposition. As they planned, a small envelope was slipped under the door. LisBeth stooped to retrieve the envelope and read the note with evident pleasure. Augusta smiled too and congratulated herself on coming up with the trip. It was good to see LisBeth happy and smiling, her mind diverted from her troubles.

LisBeth read, “Mr. David Braddock requests the honor of supplying a carriage to transport the ladies from Nebraska to the Exposition. Reply to Hanley at the front desk.”

Augusta bristled. “It appears to me that Mr. David Braddock has done quite enough for the ladies from Nebraska. And he’s been snooping about, or he wouldn’t know we’re from Nebraska! We can catch a streetcar right around the corner and make the run in less than an hour, with only eighteen cents spent. Although . . . a carriage would be more comfortable.”

LisBeth smiled hopefully. Augusta saw the smile and changed her mind. “But it’s best not to be beholden to strangers.”

“Mr. Braddock seemed harmless enough, Aunt Augusta.”

“Mr. Braddock is very interested in you, Mrs. Baird.”

LisBeth protested. “Nonsense! He’s a gentleman, that’s all.”

“With the emphasis on the man part, LisBeth. And, just like any man, he’ll be expecting us to fall all over ourselves thanking him for helping us poor, defenseless creatures, and while we’re doing that, he’ll be stealing his way into your affections and—”

“Aunt Augusta!” LisBeth was angry. Her eyes blazed. “What do you take me for? My husband has been dead less than a month.” Her eyes filled with tears, and Augusta retreated, flustered.

“Oh, my dear—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean you would ever do anything to blight dear MacKenzie’s memory. I just don’t think we should—”

LisBeth snapped back, “Then tell Hanley that we won’t require Mr. Braddock’s carriage, and be done with it.” She handed the note to Augusta and walked briskly into her room, closing the door behind her just a bit too firmly.

Augusta scribbled a reply. A soft knock sounded at the door, and when she opened it, she was astonished to see a bellboy waiting patiently in the hallway. He tipped his hat respectfully before asking, “Will there be a reply, madame?”

“Goodness! Have you been waiting all this time?”

“Mr. Braddock gave orders to wait for a response, ma’am.”

Augusta handed him the note and abruptly closed the door, wondering how much of her exchange with LisBeth the bellboy had heard and how much would be repeated word for word to Mr. Braddock.

When LisBeth emerged from her room a few moments later, her efforts were not wasted on Augusta. She wore her most simple mourning gown and had drawn her hair back into a tight bun that allowed no tendrils to escape to soften her profile. No jewelry adorned the gown, and her face reflected the fact that grief had once again arisen to dominate her life.

Augusta reached out to her imploringly, “LisBeth, please forgive me. I didn’t mean to imply—”

LisBeth shook her head. “I know. I suppose I was feeling guilty. I think I did flirt a little with Mr. Braddock.” She sat down before continuing. “I was really appalled at my own behavior yesterday. I noticed a handsome man.” She looked up at Augusta seriously. “And when I noticed, I felt guilty—like I’d betrayed Mac somehow.” Tears welled up in her eyes again, and she looked away.

Augusta interrupted, “Come, come, LisBeth. You’re a very normal young woman. I know you loved MacKenzie Baird as surely as I know that we are in Philadelphia at this moment.”

LisBeth swallowed hard before answering. “Sometimes I can’t quite remember Mac’s face.” She looked out the window before continuing. “It’s only been a few weeks, and I’m losing him.” Her shoulders slumped as she added miserably, “How can I forget so quickly?”

Augusta settled beside LisBeth and took her hand. “It happens to everyone, LisBeth. Our loved ones slip away from us, but that doesn’t mean we love them any less. It’s human to forget. And it’s part of the way the good Lord helps heal the hurt.”

“But I don’t want to forget. I don’t want to forget anything. Not until . . .”

“Until what, dear?”

“Until I can understand it, find my way, where I belong now, what I should do.”

Augusta patted LisBeth’s arm. “It takes time, dear. You must give it time. I know everyone has said that to you, and you must be weary of hearing it, but it’s true. In time, you will be able to bear the memories. You’ll find the ones that comfort you, and keep them close. The others will fall away.”

Augusta stood up and pulled LisBeth up beside her, bantering gently. “Now, as to forgetting, I hope you never forget what a handsome man looks like, dearie. And if you hadn’t noticed that Mr. David Braddock is one handsome young man, I’d have had the doctor up today to check you over! I’m an old woman, LisBeth, but I’m not dead. I noticed.” When LisBeth opened her mouth to protest, Augusta interrupted her. “Yes, you’re a widow. But you’re also a very young woman, with a life ahead of her. You don’t need to feel one moment of guilt. MacKenzie Baird was a fine man. But he’s gone now, and he would want you fill your life with another husband someday.”

LisBeth shuddered. “I’ll never—”

“Oh, yes you will, dearie, yes you will.” Augusta insisted. “But not yet. It’s too soon. Give it time and keep your life full. Now let’s get going! There’s a lifetime worth of progress to look over at that Exposition, and I for one can’t wait to see it.”

LisBeth retrieved her bonnet, and Augusta hustled her out the door, chattering away, “Can you believe it? They actually found a woman who could run a steam engine. They had to go all the way to Canada to find her, but not one man has a thing to do with the Women’s Pavilion!”

They hurried through the lobby and around the corner and were just in time to crowd onto a streetcar. As they crossed the Girard Street bridge, the two women caught their first view of the twin towers of the largest building in the world, the Exhibition’s main building. The streetcar continued from Girard down Elm to Belmont, where they passed row upon row of buildings that had sprung into being solely to serve the masses of people attending the Exposition. There were hotels and restaurants, saloons and beer gardens.

“Well, I declare!” was all Augusta could muster when confronted with the main building. It was a mountain of glass, ironwork, and red-painted wood and ran for a third of a mile along Elm Street. Inside, row upon row of elaborate walnut and glass display cases touted the ingenuity and success of the United States of America.

“Bringing fresh water to Lincoln would be no problem at all, if we had one of these powering our waterworks!” Augusta exclaimed. She was standing before the massive Corliss engine in Machinery Hall. Lincoln had had its share of water woes, due to the saline content of much of the well water in town. The Corliss engine towered above them, producing enough power to operate thirteen acres of machines that accomplished dozens of feats from pumping water to sawing logs.

Augusta nudged LisBeth. The engineer who operated the behemoth had laid aside his newspaper and clambered up a stairway to oil a gear. His task done, he returned to his chair and continued reading. “Just like a man. They always find a way to do things faster and better—for themselves. Why don’t they ever try to harness that power to make a woman’s work easier, I’d like to know! LisBeth, just think of it. One man, assisted by one engine, doing the work of eight thousand men! We’re on the verge of a new era in America; I can feel it with every step I take through this exhibition hall.”

LisBeth responded with a noncommittal “um-hum” and whispered, “Aunt Augusta, isn’t that Mr. Braddock?” indicating a tall figure quite a distance away, intently examining the contents of a display case.

“Well, now, my eyes aren’t what they used to be. Can’t say for sure.” Augusta opened her Exhibition guidebook. “Come along, dearie. We’ve miles to go before the end of the day!”

Augusta was a mountain of energy all morning, pushing and prodding their way through the main building and Machinery Hall, then past Agricultural Hall and Horticultural Hall, to seek out the twenty-four respective state buildings arranged along a strip named State Avenue. Near noon, Augusta fairly collapsed on a shaded bench and announced, “Goodness, LisBeth. I’m plumb tuckered! And we haven’t even begun to see the state buildings.”

“We can always take the tour on the West End Railway,” LisBeth replied absentmindedly. Once again, she had spotted a now-familiar gray silk top hat in the distance. Is it my imagination, she wondered, or has he been following us all morning?

“Never!” came the reply. “I don’t care if they have put up signal bells and hired flagmen. That train is being run entirely too fast to be scooting about crowded grounds. Just like a man—everything for speed and no consideration for the safety of women and children!”

“But, Aunt Augusta,” LisBeth teased. “I thought you wanted to experience all the things that could bring progress back home. Why not try it out? It might be the forerunner of an automated streetcar system for Lincoln!” I wonder if he’d follow us even then.

The challenge was too much for Augusta. “You’re right, LisBeth. Let’s give her a try!” Holding on as if her life might be left at the next crossing, Augusta boarded the railway, and they were whisked across the grounds at the alarming rate of eight miles per hour. LisBeth watched carefully as the gray silk top hat got in two cars behind, and followed at a respectful distance as the two women made their way for the Women’s Pavilion.

The gray silk top hat was not in view as Augusta and LisBeth walked through a doorway with the inscription, “Her works do praise her in the gates.” LisBeth felt a tinge of disappointment, but then her interest was won by the Exhibition Hall. Decorated in soft light blues, the one-acre hall had been built in the shape of a cross. At the center, a fountain sent its sprays of water toward a chandelier that hung from the cupola. The walls were lined with paintings, carved wood, and every aspect of endeavor from the hands of women.

“Now, there’s the woman I want to meet!” urged Augusta, as they approached the engine that ran every machine in the pavilion.

“Miss Allison, if I may ask,” began Augusta, “do you run this engine all by yourself?”

The lady in question turned to Augusta with a warm smile. “Everything from lighting the fire in the morning to blowing off the steam at closing.”

LisBeth noticed that the gray silk top hat was studying a marble bust across the hall. Its owner had just been greeted by someone else, and as he turned to reply, he cast a glance in her direction. It was David Braddock. He flashed a smile at LisBeth and hurried across the hall to join her and the small group that had collected to hear what Miss Allison had to say.

A rather stout gentleman beside Augusta drew a huge puff of smoke from a cigar before asking, somewhat skeptically, “Seems a bit of a huge job for a slip of a woman, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

“Oh, no, sir, I don’t mind your saying so. Tell me, sir,” asked Miss Allison. “Do you have the joy of children in your home?”

The lady on the gentleman’s arm smiled, “Why, yes, Miss Allison. We have five precious little ones.”

Miss Allison looked directly into the man’s face and said sweetly, “Why, then, sir, your wife could certainly operate this engine herself. It’s not nearly as exhausting as tending a cookstove, and it’s far less complicated than raising children!” The wife in question smiled appreciatively and the gentleman took the opportunity to take a few more puffs on his cigar and extricate himself from the conversation.

A chuckle sounded from behind LisBeth, and David Braddock said, “Ladies, I see we meet again. May I escort you to lunch?”