Page 17 of Hank and Elsie
“It is a French word for pregnant—ah, expecting a baby. I’ve rather recently returned from living in Italy for three years and have also traveled to some other countries. Continental Europeans aren’t as prudish as the British and Americans.”
Elsie felt her eyes growing big. She couldn’t even imagine living in Italy.
Miss Taylor laughed. “At another time, I’ll show you my drawings and photographs. But back to our current conversation. I was about to tell you that the French are not so puritanical.”
Elsie stared at her, not at all understanding Miss Constance’s point.
“The United States has many, ah,restrictiveideas about babies and how, ah, they come to be made, that stem from our Puritan founders. Great Britain’s restrictivevalues have been shaped by the late Prince Albert and from him to Queen Victoria, who, unbelievably, had a rather racy past before her marriage—at least in comparison to the arbitrator of propriety the queen became afterward.”
“Did you ever meet the queen, Miss Constance?”
“Oh, heavens, no. I barely spent time in England. Besides, reclusive Queen Victoria would never be interested in a lowly American dressmaker.”
Elsie didn’t think Miss Taylor was lowlyat all.
“So, back to my lecture. A French word is used by educated and upper-class people to pretend theyaren’tsaying what theyaresaying.” Miss Taylor chuckled again. “If my convoluted explanation makes any sense.”
Elsie had never heard the wordconvolutedbefore, but she could guess at Miss Taylor’s meaning. “Mrs. Smithson’s daughter and daughter-in-law were bothen-cei-n-te?—”
Miss Taylor nodded.
“Enceinte.” Elsie said the word with more assurance and then continued her story. “Since there were two babies coming at the same time, Mrs. Smithson wanted more baby garments and diapers and such. She taught me to use her sewing machine, and I helped her make them.” Elsie let out a sigh. “Such a magical invention!”
With a laugh and a headshake, Miss Taylor said, “Wait until you spend long hours bent over one, your neck and shoulders growing tight and sore and your eyes gritty. Won’t seem so magical then.”
“Same for long hours bent over a piece of material, stitching with a needle and thread. Only with a sewing machine, you accomplish far more.”
“True. The fact that you already are familiar with working a sewing machine will save us a lot of time. We’ll start simple, hems and such, until you become more proficient.”
Elsie hoped she’d live up to Miss Taylor’s standards. It had been a year since she’d used Mrs. Smithson’s machine.
Miss Constance tilted her head toward the door. “Let me take you through a quick inventory of the shop—something I must do anyway. Sundays, I sell so much and answer so many questions, that my thoughts are awhirl. Afterwards, I must make a list of what was sold and what stock I need to replenish, while everything’s still relatively fresh in my mind.”
Seeing a tired expression cross her new employer’s face made Elsie forget her place as the lowly assistant. “Are you happy, Miss Constance? With your new shop being so busy and all?”
“I’m ecstatic.”
Another word I don’t know.“Ecstatic is good, right?
“Very good. The word means a combination of joyful and excited.” She directed a happy glance around her shop. “I’m also exhausted…overwhelmed. I’ve made my dream of my own shop come true. Yet, I’ve been so focused on all I needed to do for the opening that I haven’t done anything else but attend church services. I’ve spent scant time with my two new friends. I know my father would like to see me more. He’s given me a horse, and I’ve barely visited her, let alone gone for a ride.”
“Your own horse, how wonderful,” Elsie said on an envious breath. “Oh, Miss Taylor, youmustfind time to ride her.”
“I’m thinking business will slow after most women in the community have taken the opportunity to replenish their wardrobes with what they need or want. But, in the meantime, you can see why I desperately need an assistant.”
A feeling of pride made Elsie straighten, vowing to do everything she could to make her employer’s life easier.
Miss Taylor waved a hand toward two racks of shirtwaists in various colors and another of dark skirts, some with a little trimming, but most plain. “Here I have readymade garments. The first rack holds completed wear. The second rack is also readymade, although not altogether finished. Shirtwaists and skirts, which a woman can take home to customize the final details. The sizes go from larger on the left to smaller on the right.”
Elsie nodded her understanding.
Pulling a skirt from the rack, Miss Taylor flipped it to the back. “See, this seam is open, as is the waist.”
Elsie ventured to touch the lightweight wool fabric.So soft.
Miss Taylor pulled up the skirt to show the unfinished hem. “All a woman needs to do is pin the back material to her size, sew up the seam, and add buttons and buttonholes to the waist or more likely, use hooks. Then she can hem the bottom according to her height. Those are simple tasks anyone can do.”
“Yes, I see.” Elsie gazed at the dressmaker in admiration.
