The spokesman introduced himself as Mr. Simms and gestured towards a matronly woman standing next to him. “Ladies, this is Mrs. Graham. She has arranged for all the girls younger than fifteen to be taken in as servants into good homes, and to remain there until they are old enough for marriage. For older women seeking such positions, we have a list of households who are in need. I suggest you make yourselves presentable and begin making calls.”
Florence nudged me, and I handed a snoozing Jacob to her and got to my feet. “What is the compensation, please?”
My apparent audacity at speaking was met with frowns from the men. Mrs. Graham answered, “Room and board, Sunday afternoons off, and a small monthly sum for spending money, to be determined by the employer.”
The women around me began to mutter. Many hoped the robust economy in the New World would mean higher wages for all, but it seemed the servant class did not share in the new wealth.
“For ladies with education,” Mrs. Graham continued, “we have several governess positions available from some of the best families in town. They pay room and board and one pound per month.”
That wasn’t much better, I thought ruefully. “What about those seeking other employment?” I asked.
Mrs. Graham turned to Mr. Simms, perplexed.
“I have information on one or two other positions,” he said, referring to his notes. “Please see me after the meeting. I believe that’s it; thank you, ladies, and good luck.”
Emma raised a timid hand. “Are we free to go into town? I want to shop and go to church.”
It was a question that burned in all the women’s minds after months of being cooped up on the ship.
Mr. Simms faced the crowd once more. “You must sign in and out of a logbook when you leave here to seek employment. Church is allowed but no other outings will be permitted. Gentlemen callers may only be received in the afternoon under the awning in the backyard. And in the interests of safety and propriety, we will be placing guards around the property.”
The women groaned, and I heard a few angry comments, but the welcoming committee was gathering their things, ready to leave us behind in our near prison. Leaving Jacob with Florence, I managed to catch Mr. Simms, and he handed me a scrap of paper. It was a notice placed by the Royal Victoria Tea Society, an organization apparently devoted to “the preservation of the proper and decorous taking of afternoon tea,” according to the paper. They were seeking to hire “a genteel lady of quality” to greet and serve tea to the ladies of the highest echelons of Victoria society. The advertisement also mentioned that the position might be suitable for one of the newly landed, single emigrant women of middle or upper class.
It was not at all what I hoped or imagined for myself, but it was that or a governess position. My body felt heavy as I took Jacob from Florence and shuffled back to my trunk to search for a suitable gown for an interview. After settling him in the wooden box we had made into his bed, I dug my dreaded corset out of my trunk and began airing out one of my best day gowns, a wide-skirted, red-and-white-striped cotton dress with puffed sleeves and a ruffled neckline. Before long, Sarah returned, a defeated look on her face.
“What happened?” I asked as she sunk onto her cot. She peered over at her son, then turned back to me.
“All the tickets for the last coaches of the season were snatched up before I even got to the counter. The men all pushed in ahead of me. No more stages will go north till spring.” She blinked back tears. “What am I to do? I have no employment. And if I did, who would watch Jacob? I’ll have to live on my travel money for the winter.”
“Oh, Sarah, I’m so sorry.” I went to her and gave her a hug. Would nothing go our way? “Do you think your father can send another fare?”
“I hate to ask him, but I’m sure he’ll find a way. Seeing me again—meeting little Jacob—it’s what he lives for, he told me so in his letters.”
Her words made me think wistfully of my own father. If he had had his way, Harriet and I would have been provided for and life would have turned out much differently. Now, I had no one. But not Sarah. She had family and she needed to be with them.
“We will find a way to get you to Barkerville, don’t fret. Come spring, I will go with you to the office and demand the first ticket be sold to you.”
She wiped a tear away. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“We’ll have each other for a time yet.”
I filled her in on the meeting and my potential teahouse job. I tried to be optimistic, but so far the colony was not what either of us had expected.
Chapter Thirty-three
The next morning, Sarah wished me luck as I signed out and left for the teahouse. Without the crowds, I could really see the town and was buoyed at the sight of a library. I needn’t starve for reading materials in the coming winter. Outside the library door, a schoolteacher shepherded a group of rosy-cheeked, uniformed children. There seemed to be a lot of young families here, and I smiled at the thought of the emigrant women’s children being among them in the future.
But my smile left me as I rounded the corner and saw a small group of forlorn Native children dressed in ragged shirts and trousers. They were thin, and some of their little faces bore scars. Smallpox, I realized. One poor boy looked blinded in one eye. I guessed they were survivors of the recent epidemic John had spoken of,
