upon all of those skills now. After a few awkward moments, she found herself slipping naturally into the conversation. She hadn’t seen most of the people about whom they spoke for many years, but she did remember most of them.
“Surely, we must have encountered one another at dancing classes at some time or another, Mrs. Brandt,” Dennis said after a few minutes.
“Sarah is several years younger than you, Richard,” her mother explained. “She wasn’t even out yet when you married Hazel.”
Richard Dennis was
The shadow passed quickly, however. He was accustomed to dealing with his pain, which mean he’d lost his wife some time ago. “So that explains why I don’t recall ever stepping on your toes while trying to master the waltz, Mrs. Brandt,” he said with a smile.
“I’m sure you never could have done such a thing, even in your youth, Mr. Dennis,” she replied as expected, returning his smile and pleasing her mother enormously.
The maid summoned them to supper, and Mr. Dennis offered his arm. Sarah took it and continued to smile, reminding herself that he was just as much an innocent victim here as she. She only hoped she could lead him to understand that she’d had no part in the planning of this, either. On the other hand, he might be flattered if he thought she was attracted to him or had asked to meet him. If she decided that was the best course of action, she was more than willing to flatter him to gain his cooperation.
She tried not to think how similar that would be to what Anna Blake had done to Nelson Ellsworth and Mr. Giddings.
Supper was a simple affair with fried oysters, cold chicken, Welsh rarebit, preserved fruit, stewed tomatoes, roasted potatoes, Charlotte Russe, ice cream, and cake.
As they made their way through the various courses, Mr. Dennis eventually had to express some interest in Sarah.
“I’m surprised our paths haven’t crossed as adults, Mrs. Brandt,” he said.
“We don’t keep the same society,” Sarah said with a smile. “I live down in Greenwich Village.”
He obviously found that odd but was too polite to say so. “It’s a very picturesque part of the city,” he said diplomatically.
“My husband’s work was there, and we enjoyed living in the neighborhood.”
“Sarah’s husband was a physician,” her mother hastily-and somewhat apologetically-explained. “He passed away several years ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear it,” Mr. Dennis said. “I lost my wife, too. I hope you’ll forgive me if I don’t have a high opinion of the medical profession as a result.” His smile was infinitely sad.
“I understand,” she said. “I also wish that medical science could do more to save lives, but even after centuries of study, we still know very little about the causes of death and disease. It’s very difficult for me in my own work that I simply can’t save everyone.”
Sarah ignored the warning look her mother was giving her. She wanted to disenchant Mr. Dennis as quickly as she could and confessing her profession seemed the simplest way to do it.
“Are you a physician as well?” he asked in disbelief.
“A midwife,” she said.
“Sarah was always independent,” her father explained, with only a hint of disapproval.
“An admirable quality,” Dennis said, skillfully concealing whatever his true feelings on the matter might be. “Your life must be very interesting.”
Sarah could have shocked him right out of his chair, but she said, “I’d be bored without my work. I need to feel I’m being useful.”
Mr. Dennis had most certainly never imagined that a woman might be bored with the life of a society matron. To give him credit, however, he seemed at least willing to consider the possibility. “But surely, you must attend only women of your own class.”
“I attend whoever needs my services,” Sarah replied. “I don’t work to amuse myself, Mr. Dennis. I work to make my own living.”
He looked at her as if she were an entirely new kind of creature, but amazingly, she saw no disgust, or even disapproval, in his light eyes. “Hazel, my wife, she sometimes visited a Settlement House on the Lower East Side. I thought she did it because it was fashionable among her friends to play Lady Bountiful to the poor.”
“The Settlement Houses provide valuable services to the women and children in that part of the city,” Sarah said. “Your wife was also helping save lives, in her own way,” she added generously, without any real knowledge of what actual services Mrs. Dennis might have performed.
Sarah’s parents were listening to this conversation with growing discomfort. They knew such things weren’t suitable topics for discussion at table or between members of the opposite sex at any time. On the other hand, Mr. Dennis didn’t seem shocked or even put off by Sarah’s unorthodox vocation or her outspoken opinions. They hardly knew what to think.
But Sarah’s mother couldn’t abide any more of this. “How did your parents enjoy their trip to Europe this summer?” she asked Mr. Dennis, effectively changing the subject for the remainder of the meal.
When the ladies withdrew so the men could smoke their cigars, Sarah steeled herself for her mother’s indignation.
“Really, Sarah, must you inform everyone you meet that you are employed as a midwife? Some people might find that distasteful,” she said when they were alone.
“I’m not ashamed of my life, Mother, and I hope you aren’t ashamed of me.”
Her mother frowned, not pleased by Sarah’s attempt to make her feel guilty. “It’s not a matter of shame. It’s a matter of good taste. I thought you wanted Richard’s help for your friend. He’s much more likely to help you if you excite his chivalrous feelings.”
“Instead of putting him off with my
Somehow her mother managed to resist the temptation to argue with her. “I’m simply reminding you that men like to feel superior to women. If we let them believe we are helpless, they will gladly do whatever we require of them and consider themselves honored to have been of service.”
“Are you saying that men must be tricked into behaving well?” Sarah asked in amazement.
“Of course they do,” her mother said impatiently. “I thought you most certainly must have learned that by now. Men rely on women’s gentler natures to help them overcome their baser instincts. A businessman wouldn’t hesitate for a moment to dismiss your friend after the scandal he’s caused the bank, whether he actually killed that woman or not. I’m not convinced your friend even deserves your help, but since you’ve chosen to offer it, you must ingratiate yourself to Mr. Dennis to compel him to betray his natural impulse and do something kind instead.”
“And it won’t hurt if Mr. Dennis is so impressed with my gentle nature that he falls in love with me, either, will it?” Sarah asked with a sly grin.
Her mother shook her head. “I despair of ever seeing you wed again, Sarah. Dr. Brandt must have been a very tolerant man indeed to have endured your willfulness.”
Tom Brandt had
“If that’s your attitude, then I’m afraid you never will,” her mother said sadly.
The two of them sat in uncomfortable silence until the men joined them a few minutes later. Sarah had seated herself on a sofa so Mr. Dennis could sit beside her to facilitate their discussion of what Sarah wanted of him. Fortunately, he took the hint and seated himself just where she’d wanted him.
“Perhaps you’d play for us, my dear,” Mr. Decker said to his wife, surprising Sarah. She’d assumed the two of them would want to be included in her conversation with Dennis, but her mother rose obediently-too obediently, which meant they’d arranged this ahead of time-and went to the opposite end of the room where a small piano sat.
