“Hello?” a friendly female voice shouted out a downstairs window.
Margaret looked at the woman hanging halfway out. She was in her early fifties and had a very pleasant face. “Hello, ma’am. My name is Margaret Roe. Do you have any rooms?” she asked eagerly.
The woman motioned with her hand for Margaret to come in. She entered the two-story home without delay and glanced around the parlor. It was modestly decorated and seemed a very comfortable place to stay. The lady met Margaret in the front room.
“Hello, dear. I’m Elsie. Sorry about that. I was feeding my cats and just couldn’t get out of the room,” she giggled.
Once she mentioned it, Margaret noticed the woman’s clothing was covered with variously colored cat hairs. “My name is Margaret Roe,” she repeated. “I was wondering, hoping, you might have a room available.”
The woman frowned. “Not tonight, dear. I’m all full up.”
Margaret was genuinely disappointed.
“But I do have one after tonight. Would you like to stay tomorrow?” Missus Elsie asked.
Margaret did not attempt to hide her pleasure. “Oh, I would like that very much,” she answered. “How much is your rate?”
“Two dollars a night. Two-fifty if you want breakfast and supper.”
“Very good,” Margaret stated. “Please put me down for tomorrow.”
“How long will you be staying?” Elsie wondered.
“I’m not sure exactly,” Margaret replied honestly.
“Can I put you down for one week then? Or two?” Elsie wondered. “Can you guess at all?”
“I guess one week for now, please. It will depend on when they find my husband.”
Elsie placed a hand to her breast. “Oh dear! Is he missing?”
Margaret had to laugh. “Oh, no ma’am. It’s nothing like that. I’m not married yet.” It was easy to see Elsie’s confusion. Margaret felt she had to explain. “You see, I have signed up to be a mail order bride. I am waiting for Simon and Braun to match me with someone.”
Elsie showed both relief and surprise. “Oh, how brave you are, my dear. Are you nervous at all?”
Margaret answered honestly. “Yes, a little. But I hope and pray for the best. No matter what happens, it will be better than what I had before.”
“You poor soul,” the woman consoled. After a brief moment, she said, “I will put you down for two weeks. Sometimes these things take a while.”
Margaret thanked Elsie for her kindness and left the comfortable home. “Hopefully one day soon, I will have my own comfortable home too,” she thought happily. Margaret found her way back to the agency. When she walked in the door, Mister Simon jumped up from his chair.
“I’m so glad you came back. We’ve found someone for you already,” he stated proudly.
Margaret took a step back. “You have?” she gulped. This was it. She could hardly believe it. It had been only five hours since she left.
“Yes. It’s almost a perfect match,” he boasted. “Please, have a seat.”
Wordlessly, Margaret dropped into a chair.
“We just got his application last week. His name is Russell Chadwick. He wants a woman who can read and write. It was also important that his bride know many skills, all of which you listed. He wanted a mature woman with a good head on her shoulders,” the man explained.
“Where does he live?” Margaret eked out.
Mister Simon double-checked his paperwork. “Iowa City, Iowa.”
Not that far. “How old is he?” He’d better not be over forty, she hoped.
“Twenty-two.”
Gracious! Margaret’s eyes opened wide. He was younger! She had not considered that. “What does he do?” she questioned.
“A farmer,” the agent replied.
Margaret sat still, absorbing all this new information. A farmer, that was a good honest trade. Could she be a farmer’s wife? All she knew about farming was growing a vegetable garden.
“Can you be ready to leave tomorrow at eight in the morning?” Mister Simon asked.
Margaret gulped again, but nodded.
“Very good. I will meet you at the train station at eight. The train to Iowa City leaves at eight-twenty,” he explained with satisfaction. His commission on this one would be good.
“How much will the ticket cost?” Margaret wondered.
Simon folded his hands neatly before him. “It won’t cost you a thing. Mister Chadwick has paid for all your travel expenses and then some,” he said. He cleared his throat and handed her a sealed envelope. “This was to be given to the woman we chose to be his bride.”
Curiously, Margaret broke the seal. Inside was twenty dollars and a brief note.
Dear woman, this money is for you to spend however you wish. Consider it a wedding gift.
Sincerely, Russell Thomas Chadwick
Margaret beamed with joy. How wonderful he sounded, and how very considerate to send such a thoughtful gift. Her anxiety over this unknown man evaporated. She looked Mister Simon in the eye. “I will see you tomorrow at eight,” she assured him. They shook hands on the deal. It was official.
Margaret left in a flutter of happiness. She would meet her future husband tomorrow! Goodness how she wished to impress him. Then she remembered the money. Yes! She would buy a pretty new dress. That would dazzle his eyes and capture his heart. But first, she would have to cancel the reservation with the kind Missus Elsie.
Practically dancing with every step, Margaret entered the ladies’ clothing store which Elsie had recommended. They sold pre-sewn clothing in a wide range of styles and prices. She was simply awestruck by the selection. Dresses and gowns in every color imaginable hung on racks. They were arranged according to size, and then by price. She eyed them all wishfully.
“I am Francine. Can I help you?” a dark-skinned woman asked with a strange accent.
Margaret was intimidated. She had never owned a store-bought dress before. “I was looking for a pretty dress,” she managed to say shyly.
The woman smiled. “Then you come to the right place. What size you need?”
Margaret shrugged.
“Very well. We find out,” the woman said, taking her hand. “Come with me.”
The lady led Margaret to a small room. She closed the curtain behind them. “Raise your arms,” she ordered.
Margaret obeyed.
The woman took a piece of ribbon, marked off at even intervals and wrapped it around Margaret’s waist. As she was adjusting the measurement, she began to poke Margaret’s side.
Margaret giggled. “That tickles.”
The woman did not look pleased. “You do not wear a corset?” she both stated and asked at the same time.
“No ma’am. I never had to. It interfered with my work,” she explained honestly.
The lady looked at her more kindly. “You wear one today? Makes dress fit better. Catch man’s eye. Make you look like lady,” she added with a wink.
Margaret had to grin. She had never met anyone who talked so strangely. As the woman measured