I spent the next several weeks reflecting and writing. Sarah was a most gracious host, and Eliza Mary made certain that my daily needs were attended to.
Early one November day, I made my way over to the offices of the Philadelphia Inquirer. Mister William Pryor, Managing Editor of the Inquirer, had been waiting for my visit. As I entered his office, he stood and, with a warm handshake, greeted me and invited me to stay for tea and a visit. I accepted his kind offer. It was good to be out of the house on this crisp day.
“My dear Elizabeth, how good to see you once again. Your reports from London were absolutely marvelous and well received by our readers. We are all impressed by your ability to have received such wonderful interviews with Mister Douglass and Mister Garrison, along with your reports from the Convention itself.”
Mister Pryor was most sincere in his remarks. Many of his readers had written to the paper, expressing their pleasure with the reports. Pryor had forwarded many of the letters to me at Sarah Hale’s home, prior to my arrival.
“I appreciate the opportunity that you gave me to cover the story. It was indeed an experience I shall never forget.”
“I should also state how sorry we all were to hear of the death of Mister Abercrombie from the Times. I understood that he had been quite helpful to you in gaining access to the Press Balcony in the early days of the Convention.”
“Thank you for your kind words. Yes, he indeed had been most gracious with me and assisted me throughout my stay in London. I have been told that Alastair, I mean Mister Abercrombie, died in a tragic train accident returning to London. I am afraid I did not have the opportunity to say a proper goodbye before sailing home.”
I held back my tears as I thought lovingly of the man who had briefly won my heart.
“We received word from London”, Pryor continued, “that his death was the result of protestors tearing up the tracks just prior to a river crossing. The tracks gave way as the train began to cross the bridge, and the passenger cars plummeted into the ravine and river below. In all, twenty-three persons died.”
“Has there been any word as to the capture of those responsible?” I inquired.
“According to our friends at the Times, two men have been apprehended, with the authorities searching for as many as five others. They will be caught and put on trial for their crime, my dear.”
Mister Pryor gave me the look of a father who knows of his daughter’s heart ache.
“If you wish, we will send you back to London at the appropriate time, to cover the trial.”
“Again, thank you, Sir, for your kind offer. But I feel it best to leave the past where it is, for the time being. Now, I have compiled a list of my expenses for reimbursement, as we agreed. I have already noted that payment has been deposited in my bank for the articles submitted for publication.”
I changed the subject as quickly as possible, to avoid the shedding of more tears in the presence of the editor.
William Pryor assured me that the funds for reimbursement would be deposited within the week. Should I have any further concerns, or wish to change my mind about returning to London, I was to call on him.
Before departing his office, Mister Pryor offered once again his sincerest condolences at the loss of Alastair. He also assured me that if I wanted to remain in Philadelphia, I would always have a position with his paper. I was, and would remain, most appreciative.
As I left the Inquirer, I spotted Sarah Hale walking toward me, accompanied by Mister Louis Godey, her editor.
“Elizabeth, I am so glad to see you out and about this beautiful winter’s day. Louis and I are off to lunch. Please join us.”
“Thank you Sarah. Mister Godey, it so nice to see you again. Sarah, I would love to join you for lunch, but you must allow me to care for you this time. Sarah has been much too gracious toward me, Mister Godey, over these past weeks, and not allowing me to contribute anything of value to the household.”
Mister Godey responded, “I have been told by Sarah that you have been enjoying time for yourself, to recover from the long and eventful trip to London. I have read your reports of the Temperance Convention in the Philadelphia Inquirer, and I must confess that I am most jealous of your reporting skills and ability. You, my dear, have turned a master craft into an art form.”
“You are much too kind, Mister Godey. If my writing and reports are enjoyable to read, it is only because I enjoy my work so.”
We ventured to the Venetian Restaurant, a favorite dining establishment in the city market area that Louis Godey often visited. We ordered and enjoyed a cup of tea, while waiting for our meal to be properly served.
Throughout the course of our light repast, Godey was full of questions regarding my trip to London. He was most interested in any details I could give him regarding the latest fashions of London.
“I understand that you dined at the American Ambassador’s resident. Can you share what Elizabeth Bancroft was wearing?”
I did my best to share in great detail what each of the ladies had been wearing when I arrived at Ambassador Bancroft’s residence. I shared that I had gone directly from the Convention to the Ambassador’s home and was not entirely dressed according to the standards of the evening occasion. Elizabeth Bancroft had made sure, however, that I was treated with every kindness, and no notice had been drawn to my attire.
“Louis, I almost forgot, a package arrived for me this very morning, from London. It is a most beautiful dress of at least ten shades of pink, layered over and over again in the richest silk I have ever seen.”
Sarah was most excited in telling of this story.
“And who, may I inquire, sent this marvelous dress to you?”, Louis countered.
“Why it came as a gift from our dear Elizabeth.”
Sarah went on to explain that, shortly before my departure from London, I had ordered the dress to be made for her at a most elite dress shop in London. The dress maker had assured me that it would be an original, and no other of its likeness would ever be produced.
“Elizabeth, I can not thank you enough for thinking of me while you were on your adventure.”
“My dearest friend, it is I who thanks you. The dress is the least I was able to do for you. I do hope that you will enjoy it and, please, if it must be altered, allow me to care for that as well.”
I was undeniably delighted to see how excited Sarah was with the gift. Mister Godey promised to have the dress sketched and placed into the magazine, with Sarah’s permission.
As we finished our meal, Sarah and Louis returned to their office, while I decided to stroll through the market for the remainder of the afternoon. It had been a little more than two months since I learned of Alastair’s tragic and sudden death. It seemed that I had used those months to grieve all the losses of my life – my mother – brother – father – Mama and Papa Jones –, and now Alistair. Now it was time to return to living. The time had come for me to begin contemplating my next adventure.