A Woman of Independent Means (19 page)

June 30, 1919
Woodstock

Dear Lydia and Manning,

Thank you for your kind letter of advice concerning my financial situation. Let me assure you that the profits I realized from the sale of my house are safe in a savings account. I agree that this may be the last large sum of money I will see for some time and I promise to consult you before acting on any opportunities for investment that may present themselves.

Perhaps this trip did sound extravagant, but the train tickets have been our only large expense. At my insistence I share the cost of food with Totsie but everything else has been provided for us. We lead a deliberately simple life. The children are thriving on it and knowledge of how little we need to survive is making me strong.

I do not know what we will do when summer ends. I have thought about staying on here. The children could walk to the village school and I would welcome the isolation of a New England winter. But there are two months between me and any decision—thank God!

Tell Mother Steed I inquired about her health and though she may prefer not to correspond with me, the children cannot understand why she no longer writes to them.

I hope you will write again soon. The arrival of the mail is a great event around here. Eleanor loved her letter from Marian and is hard at work on a reply.

Love,
Bess

July 3, 1919
Woodstock

Dear Mr. Fineman,

Your gracious letter was forwarded to me from St. Louis. How curious that you have just returned from Boston! Our travels have taken us in the same direction this summer without our knowing it.

I did not realize your work involved stocks and bonds. I am very interested in new opportunities for investment, having just sold my house in St. Louis, and I would welcome your advice in this area. My life is in such a state of flux just now I have decided not to reinvest in real estate. I will rent a place wherever I decide to spend the winter. I am primarily interested in investments with growth potential, since I have adequate income to see me through the coming year.

Forgive me for taking advantage of your brief mention of a business trip to apprise you so fully of my own financial situation but it is a great relief to discuss money matters with an objective outsider. All my other advisors are involved at least indirectly in my financial future, and as a result their sense of responsibility for my welfare exercises undue restraint upon their judgment.

I very much enjoyed your descriptions of the people you met and the places you visited on your trip. My life here is so removed from the world you describe I could be living in a foreign country. Our daily life is confined to the farm and the few neighbors within walking distance—so social exchange is kept at a minimum.

Yesterday the farmer's wife who sells us milk and eggs invited us into her home for the first time this summer, as we were caught in a cloudburst. She is always taciturn and rather sullen, even in the most pleasant weather, but yesterday she seemed especially gloomy. Once inside her house, I learned why. As I sat in the parlor and strained for a look through the window at the view outside, she burst out bitterly, “I know, I know. It's too high and you can't see out.”

“What a shame,” I murmured. “You have such a magnificent view. Can't your husband lower the windows?”

She shook her head sadly. “He says it's easy enough to go outside and look at the view if you want to see it.”

As we left she took my hand in a surprising show of affection. “I hope you appreciated your husband while you had him. I didn't know how well off I was the first time. Mr. Stone is my second husband.” She stood in the doorway until we were out of sight. At first I thought she was sorry to see us go, then I realized she was just admiring the view.

This was the first time I had confronted my own feelings about remarriage and I was surprised to realize how opposed to the idea I am. Life seems so short I cannot bear the idea of repeating any experience—even one that brought such happiness the first time.

I look forward to hearing from you again and would welcome your suggestions for a long-term investment.

Sincerely,
Bess Steed

July 10, 1919
Woodstock

Dear Cousin Josie,

The children and I seem to have adapted to New England faster than our Pilgrim forefathers did—but then our circumstances are a great deal more pleasant.

A lady from Chicago stopped by our farm this past weekend, hoping we might have some old family Bibles or records that would aid her search for ancestors in this area. Unfortunately we were unable to supply her with anything more helpful than our interest but we did accompany her to two nearby cemeteries.

I could not go into the first one I was so overcome by the memory of the grave I left behind in St. Louis, so I stayed outside and held the baby for my friend Totsie while she and the children helped our visitor search for clues. To the children it was like a game of hide and seek through history and they got very excited running from marker to marker, comparing names and dates, guessing at family relationships and sentiments from the size of the headstones and the words engraved on them.

By the time we got to the second cemetery, I was able to accompany them inside. By now the children were so carried away by their game they had grown rather unruly and our visitor wondered aloud if a cemetery were a proper place for children. I was stunned at the vehemence of my own response. I said I could not speak for all the dead, of course, but having lost my husband just five months ago, I could vouch for his delight in the sight and sound of children at play. We parted company soon after this. Our visitor climbed into her chauffeured car headed for her next destination, and we returned on foot to the farm.

The episode kindled a spark, however, and I have resolved to take advantage of this summer in the land of my ancestors to trace my own lineage. I remember my father talking about a family tree your mother kept in the living room. For years I imagined a huge tree growing in the center of the room, with members of the family comfortably ensconced among its branches. When I visited your house for the first time, even though I was an adult and knew better, I must admit to a small pang of disappointment upon entering a conventional parlor in place of the tree-sheltered room I had imagined as a child. But I cannot remember a family tree of any kind in evidence on either of my visits. Does one exist? If so, do you know where it is? I would be so grateful to have the chance to study it this summer. I am also interested in any written records or family histories you might have in your possession.

We would be delighted to have you visit us here. The change would be good for you and we would enjoy your company. Also, if you traveled here in person, you would not have to entrust the family records to the post office.

Please give serious thought to this invitation. The children love the idea of meeting a cousin who is older than their grandfather. With the hope of seeing you soon, I remain,

Your devoted cousin,
Bess

July 17, 1919
Woodstock

Dear Arthur,

It feels strange to address you by your first name but pleasant to regard you as a friend.

I am very interested in the brochures you sent me. Would I be imposing on our friendship to ask you to set up an account for me and buy five hundred shares each of the six stocks you recommend? I appreciate your note of caution, but I am not in the market for bonds at this point, nor do I require the quarterly arrival of a check to keep faith with a company.

I thought you might enjoy the enclosed photograph of the children on the seesaw they constructed from a barrel and a plank. They invent games by the hour—the limited supplies they have here seem to stir their imaginations more than the best-equipped playroom. We will be living on a much more modest scale from now on and it is reassuring to realize my precious children will not suffer.

Thank you for your interest and attention. I look forward to hearing from you again soon.

Gratefully,
Bess

August 1, 1919
Woodstock

Dear Lydia and Manning,

I was distressed to learn from your letter how poorly the life insurance business is faring in my absence. I had hoped that by closing the St. Louis office and consolidating its resources, the company could weather this crisis. I am so grateful you are there to deal with these problems, Manning—though I am sure there are times when you wish you were anywhere else. If we can just hold on to what we have, I know business will improve and our tenacity will be rewarded.

I have opened an account with the brokerage firm of Meyers, Miller, and Fineman and have decided to invest the proceeds from the sale of my house in the stock market. You may disagree, but at this time in my life I do not feel I can afford to be cautious. However, lest I appear reckless, be assured I am acting on the carefully considered advice of a close personal friend, Arthur Fineman, a senior partner in the firm.

Totsie's husband, Dwight, arrives tomorrow and we have spent all week getting everything in order. Today Totsie decided to have her hair done. There is no beauty parlor in town, but the wife of the local postmaster gives shampoos in her home, using soft rainwater collected in barrels and heated in kettles over the fire. I wasn't planning to go, but Totsie begged me to keep her company in case the woman turned out to be as reticent as most of her neighbors. Only in New England does one run the risk of encountering an inarticulate beautician!

We left the children with our neighbor, Mrs. Stone, who put them to work in the orchard picking cherries for her exquisite pies. She put the baby in a cradle in the kitchen and rocked it with her foot while she rolled out the pie crust. Mrs. Stone raised eight children of her own and I could not imagine how she managed so many until I saw how easily she fitted our four into her afternoon's activities.