Prologue

Boston, June, 1886

Sophia Clark got out of her cab and knocked on the door to her father’s mansion. The family butler, Jacob, opened it. The moment he did so, Sophia’s handbag dropped to the floor and they both burst into tears, each person knowing the other’s thoughts. Sophia hated being at home, but also hated not seeing her best friend. They hugged each other close. Father never approved of treating the servants as friends, but Sophia did not care what her father thought on many topics. Sophia had grown into a beautiful young woman, now nineteen years old. Jacob had grown older and perhaps a bit more frail. When Jacob heard footsteps, they immediately stopping embracing and Jacob began to carry Sophia’s bags. Father came to the door. He said, “Oh, Sophia! How you have grown! Why, we haven’t seen you since Christmas! Come inside and tell your mother and I about Vassar.”

“Thank you father, but I really need to go to my room to spend some time alone. I am weary from the trip.”

“Very well.” Father called another servant, Henry, and they brought Sophia’s things upstairs. When father was out of sight, Sophia helped them. Henry and Jacob knew not to refuse the help of someone as stubborn as Sophia. When Henry went back downstairs, Jacob quietly asked Sophia, “Was it as miserable as you told me through your letters?”

“You cannot even, imagine,” Sophia responded. Sophia had written Jacob every week about her horrible time at Vassar and all of the girls who were not interested in their educations at all, but rather in their Ivy League fiancés and exquisite dresses. She also told him about her sneaking out of science classes to play the Grand Piano in the music room alone. So many girls skipped classes, knowing that their fathers’ money would keep them from failing, that it did not make much of difference if she skipped once in a while, as well. These were letters that she mailed without return addresses in her own envelopes, while she used fancy stationary to write her parents about how wonderful life was, there.

She lied on her bed and thought about two things: how her parents would react to the news that she was about to tell them and how her life would be different after she carried out her plans, smiling at the latter thoughts and frowning at the former.

By the time Sophia came downstairs, the cook had already put supper on the table. Father talked endlessly about how proud he was regarding Sophia’s grades, all while eating his pork loin like he was the pig. Mother simply smiled as Father complimented Sophia and as Sophia answered all of their questions about Vassar with “Good,” “Fine,” and “Fair.” But when Father asked her if she knew what classes she would be taking the next semester, Sophia knew that she could no longer wait to announce her plans.

“Mother, Father, I’m planning skip school and travel to Europe for a year or so.” Sophia had expected them to scowl and grimace. But now, Mother looked almost worried. By looking at Father’s face, Sophia could see why. He pounded on the table so hard that it nearly made everyone jump.

“And what on earth makes you think that I will allow that?”

“I’m nineteen, Father. I don’t need your permission.”

“Now, let us be reasonable here,” responded Mother, “Sophia, why do you wish to do this? I know that you have not found a suitable husband, yet. That fact may make you want to travel, but believe me, it makes no sense. There are many suitable boys in Poughkeepsie, New York, and Boston. You told me that you had a friend, Edith, with a fiancé at Columbia. Why not accompany her on her next visit to New York?”

Sophia, with her anger at its peak, shouted, “This has nothing to do with boys. I’m going and there’s nothing that you can do to stop me!” While she ran upstairs, crying, Father shouted, “And who do you suppose will pay for this trip? I certainly will not unless it is your honeymoon!” Jacob ran after her. He took her in his arms and said, “Sophia, I have known you since your mother was pregnant with you. I never wanted you to leave, but your happiness means more to me than anything else in this world.” He took a deep breath and said, “Your father put the rest of your college money into an account at the local bank with your name on it.”

“I know,” said Sophia, now wailing, “I’ve already gotten loan and paid for a boat ticket to Paris.”

“When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow. Very early. I have to take the money out of the bank before I get to the dock.”

“I’ll arrange a cab ride for you.” Sophia buried her head in Jacob’s embrace. The last time she ever saw her parents again was the next morning when she left a note on their bedside table while they were sleeping. The last time that she ever saw the servants again was when she hugged them each good-bye, the next morning and promised to write Jacob every chance that she could.