Chapter 11

A man’s heart deviseth his way: but the Lord directeth his steps.

Proverbs 16:9

A ugusta had almost declined when David Braddock offered the invitation to lunch. But when he presented an elegant note written by his mother, Augusta softened and accepted his arm. “After all,” she whispered to LisBeth, “it’s his mother who extended the invitation. Any boy who takes two new acquaintances to meet his mother can’t be a villain.”

David led the women through the maze of Exposition buildings to his carriage. A uniformed driver doffed his cap and helped the women up into the carriage.

From the seat across from them, David Braddock smiled politely. “May I ask, Mrs. Hathaway, what has interested you most at the Exposition thus far?”

That was all Augusta Hathaway needed. The rest of the drive to Abigail Braddock’s was filled by Augusta’s soliloquy on progress and the inventions that would be needed if the West were to prosper. “Now, mind you, Mr. Braddock. I know what you easterners think. You think it’s a vast desert out there. But just give us a few years. I’m convinced that Nebraska will one day be a rich farmland. All we need is an efficient way to tap the water supply and irrigate the land. Mark my words, Mr. Braddock. One day Nebraska will help feed the world.”

LisBeth expected David Braddock to smile wisely, pat Augusta on the shoulder, and placate her. Instead, he seemed genuinely interested in her ideas. He listened carefully to everything she said and asked pointed questions about the west.

“I’ve never been west, myself, Mrs. Hathaway. But,” he looked at LisBeth, “there’s a first time for everything.”

Had LisBeth and Augusta known how sought after a luncheon invitation from Abigail Braddock was to residents of Philadelphia in 1876, they would have climbed the stairs to the elegant mansion with quaking knees. As it was, both women were blissfully ignorant of the fact that they were about to be entertained by the dowager empress of Philadelphia society. Indeed, preceding Augusta Hathaway and LisBeth King Baird as luncheon guests in the manse were none other than the Emperor Dom Pedro of Brazil; Prince of the Houses of Bourbon, Braganza, and Hapsburg; and his wife, the Empress Theresa.

The Braddock mansion was set back off the street in the middle of a park of tall trees. A wide porch completely surrounded the house, ending at the portico where the carriage pulled up to let the guests out. Entering the manse, both Augusta and LisBeth gaped at the grandeur before them. Two vast staircases swept up the sides of the entryway, meeting at the top to form a balcony. Abigail Braddock stood on the balcony, smiling warmly before gliding down the stairs to meet her guests.

“Welcome!” Her voice was mellow and sincere. “Welcome to Philadelphia. I hope we’ve been treating you well. Things have been a bit hectic since the Centennial opened. People aren’t always what they should be. . . .”

Abigail shook Augusta’s hand seriously, and then turned to LisBeth. “LisBeth King Baird. I have heard about you,” LisBeth blushed, “and I see it’s all true.” The woman was friendly without being overbearing. “Come, let’s have some refreshment on the porch.”

LisBeth and Augusta followed Abigail through the arched doorway under the balcony, and into a sitting room that fairly glowed with golden light. The chairs were covered with gold damask, and a floral rug caught the golden tones and accented them with deep blue. At the far end of the room stood a harp and a piano. Above the piano was a massive portrait of a young mother and two children. It was unmistakably Abigail. Dressed in heavily embroidered and beaded black silk, the woman held her aristocratic head on a long, slender neck. Her hair was swept up and held in place with jeweled combs. At one side sat an infant with sparkling brown eyes, his hair pomaded, his long gown elaborately trimmed in elegant lace.

“Is that you, Mrs. Braddock?” LisBeth asked, nodding at the portrait.

Abigail smiled. “Yes, Mrs. Baird, it is. David is six months old there,” the smile faded a bit, “and his father had been dead for only four months. The portrait had been begun shortly after David’s birth, but then his father became ill and I just couldn’t bear to sit for the artist. So we had it put in storage. One of the last things David’s father demanded of us was that we promise to finish the portrait. It was to have been the crowning piece, the last thing to finish the house he’d had built for us.” Abigail sighed. “Sadly, he never lived to see it all finished.”

“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Braddock,” LisBeth apologized, but Abigail Braddock smiled kindly.

“You don’t need to apologize, dear. Time heals the bitterest of wounds. And now I enjoy remembering. William and I had a wonderful few years together, and I enjoy talking about him.”

LisBeth realized that she had just heard Augusta’s words of the previous day repeated. She grew quiet and studied her gloved hands.

Abigail reached out and took LisBeth’s hands in her own. “Forgive me, my dear, for being so forward, but since you know my story, perhaps you’ll allow me to venture beyond our brief acquaintance. David has informed me of the tragic loss of your husband at the Little Big Horn. I extend my heartfelt sympathies.” The older woman squeezed LisBeth’s hands. “I know that doesn’t help much, dear, but take the word of a woman who’s been where you now stand. The pain will get better. It won’t ever be completely gone, but you’ll be able to bear it, with time.”

LisBeth stared dry-eyed at Abigail Braddock for a moment. She lifted her chin and pressed her lips together firmly. Then, her lower lip began to quiver and her eyes filled with tears. Embarrassed, she tried to gather herself, but Abigail wouldn’t let her pull away. Impulsively she pulled LisBeth into her arms, “There, there, dear. Don’t be embarrassed. All this Victorian nonsense about hiding one’s true feelings is a blasted inconvenience.”

When David joined them, LisBeth was wiping her eyes with his mother’s lace-edged handkerchief, and Augusta was smiling approvingly at both of them. It was Augusta who broke the silence. “David Braddock, thank you for bringing us here. Your mother’s a charming woman, and if half of Philadelphia is as nice as she is, then we’ll certainly enjoy the rest of our stay here.”

“Perhaps we’ll even persuade you to extend your visit?” David asked hopefully.

Augusta boomed, “Not on your life, young man! I’ve a schedule to keep and a hotel to run. LisBeth has a life to get on with—in Nebraska.”

LisBeth added, “And Nebraska wouldn’t last long without Aunt Augusta looking out for her.”

Abigail showed them to a corner of the porch shaded by bittersweet vines. She waved away a young servant girl who stepped out onto the porch. “Never mind, Betsy. I’ll do the serving myself.” Betsy curtsied and hurried off. Abigail served lemonade while they talked, then guided them through an elegant lunch served in a small dining room on the opposite side of the house.

Settling into her place at the table, LisBeth observed the array of china, crystal, and silver. Finally, she leaned over to say to Augusta in a stage whisper, “Good thing you had me work the dining room, Aunt Augusta. I’ve set enough tables to know which fork is for what!”

Abigail Braddock enjoyed the comment immensely, following it with an anecdote about her own first encounter with a properly set table. “David’s father took me home to meet his parents. I thought I’d die when I saw all the china they used—for one meal. I don’t remember a thing that was said at that entire two-hour ordeal. I spent the entire time watching every move William’s mother made. She’d pick up a fork; I’d pick up a fork. She took a drink; I took a drink. I thought, Even if she does it wrong, she’ll do it with class, and I’ll be safer! ” Abigail laughed at the memory. “I’d been brought up on the other side of town and didn’t even have my own fork until I was two years old! I’m sure William’s mother was horrified. How he ever convinced her to let me into the family, I’ll never know!”

It was a warm, cheery lunch, and when the carriage was brought around to return LisBeth and Augusta to the hotel, all of Augusta’s suspicions about David Braddock had been laid to rest. As she and LisBeth settled into the Braddocks’ carriage, Augusta informed LisBeth that David and Abigail Braddock were obviously honest, God-fearing people, and she considered it a blessing that they had been nearly kicked out of their hotel rooms if it meant meeting the Braddocks. LisBeth was inclined to agree.

As the carriage departed, David inquired as to his mother’s opinion of the two women from Nebraska. Abigail answered without hesitation. “I like them both, David. Augusta—as she insists on my calling her—is brusque, but she’s got a heart of gold. Anyone can see that. And LisBeth is lovely. She’s deeply shaken by the loss of her husband and mother, but she’s young. She’ll be all right.” Abigail reached over to pat the back of her son’s hand. “I’m glad you brought them home for lunch, David.”

David Braddock pursed his lips and nodded gravely at his mother. “I’m glad you approve, Mother. For that, ” he said, nodding toward the carriage, “is the woman I am going to marry.”