Michael helped her into the buggy and then went around and hopped in beside her. Violet wasn’t sure why she felt safer with him handling the reins instead of a paid driver, but she did.
They headed down the street to Fifth Avenue, and although there was traffic, Violet was pleased that it didn’t seem quite as hectic as the day before. There were many people out and about, but the pace of the traffic was slower as they turned onto the avenue and headed north past Madison Square Park and the Fifth Avenue Hotel.
“Look, Violet.”
Violet looked back to see that Mrs. Heaton was pointing to the left.
“There is Delmonico’s. It is supposed to be one of the best restaurants in the city and, from what I hear, it is quite the place to see and be seen.”
“Perhaps we’ll stop there for dinner on the way home and see whom we can see and be seen by.” Michael laughed and winked at Violet, who couldn’t contain her chuckle—or the flush of heat that crept up her cheeks.
“Perhaps we should,” Mrs. Heaton said somberly. But then she joined in the laughter.
They passed several large churches, including the Marble Collegiate Church and the Brick Presbyterian.
Michael pointed out the Waldorf Hotel, explaining that rumor had it that it had resulted from a family feud between William Waldorf Astor and his aunt, Caroline Astor. “William, the nephew, had always resented that even though he had more money than his aunt did, she held the social leadership of the family. So to spite her, he had his own house razed and the hotel built. It opened in ’93. It must have provoked his aunt, because just last year she had a home built on down the avenue next to Central Park.”
Mrs. Heaton took up the story from there, pointing to construction going on next to the hotel. “Now her son, John Jacob Astor IV, has had her old mansion next to the Waldorf torn down and is building a hotel of his own.” She shook her head. “There is no telling how it will all end up.”
“Probably not,” Violet agreed although she knew absolutely no more than she’d been told about the families. Nonetheless, it was all very entertaining.
There were many carriages out and about on the avenue, and it was quite obvious when they passed those of great wealth. Their vehicles were larger and grander, for one thing. And many of them were open so that one could see from the way the occupants were dressed that they were of the upper echelon of society.
However, there were many others who appeared to be dressed as she and Mrs. Heaton were—still in their Sunday best, but far less elegant than the rich. Violet felt quite comfortable traveling in the company she was with.
They passed several more mansions and churches before Michael said, “This is known as Vanderbilt Row.”
The mansions occupied a whole block, and Violet was so impressed at the size and the design of the elegant buildings, she had to remind herself to close her gaping mouth. There were balconied windows with intricately carved trims around the windows and between each floor, and moldings everywhere.
Michael leaned a little closer to Violet. “A far cry from what we’re used to, isn’t it?”
“Oh, yes.” Violet shook her head. “I can’t imagine living in anything that size or that grand. Why, one could get lost.”
“I’m sure I would.” Michael chuckled.
“Well, I think I much prefer my small family home in Ashland or your mother’s boardinghouse to such opulence.”
“Why, thank you, Violet,” Michael’s mother said from the backseat.
Soon they arrived at Central Park and Michael drove the surrey into it. They passed from the city into a tree-lined road that ran through the park until the scene before them opened up to a huge space, beautiful and unspoiled.
“It looks untouched, as if it’s been here from the first,” Violet said.
Michael shook his head. “Every bit of the park has been landscaped. None of it is like it was to begin with and, from what I’ve heard, that’s a good thing.”
As they kept riding, Violet was taken aback by the sheer size of it. “I had no idea it was this large or this beautiful.”
They passed waterways and ponds, and at the north end there was a huge lake where she could see couples boating. There were trails leading off in all kinds of directions, and people walking, riding or sitting on park benches. The perfume of blooming flowers of all kinds permeated the air around them, and Violet sighed at the beauty of it all. She couldn’t wait to spend a whole day here.
“There are outdoor music concerts this time of year, and, oh, the ice-skating in the winter is wonderful,” Mrs. Heaton said.
“Ice-skating?”
“Yes,” Michael said. “We’ll have to go, if you’re still here by then.”
Violet wasn’t sure what to say. She’d love to go ice-skating here, but her goal was to stay only long enough to pay off the mortgage on her home. She couldn’t imagine living here for any longer.
“New Yorkers of every nationality and status love this park,” his mother said, saving Violet from having to say anything.
“I can well see why,” Violet agreed. “It is simply amazing right here in the middle of the city.”
“It didn’t start that way,” Michael said. “At first, the wealthy were the ones who mostly took advantage of it and there was a lot of discussion on just whose park it was. But with the El and all manner of other transportation, it’s easier for all New Yorkers to enjoy fresh air and sunshine these days, and now the park is enjoyed by anyone who can get to it.”
“I’m glad,” Violet said. It didn’t seem right that only the wealthy should enjoy something so beautiful.
As they left the park and started back down Fifth Avenue, Michael said, “It’s about dinnertime. How does Delmonico’s sound? Should we see and be seen?”
“Oh, Michael, I was just teasing about that,” Mrs. Heaton said. “Besides, I should get back and see about the boarders’ meal.”
“Mother, you know the boarders realize that our Sunday night suppers are whatever you, Gretchen or Maida decide to put out for them. Maida will take care of it and they will be fine.”
“But it’s expensive, Michael—”
“No buts. I may not be able to afford a mansion on Fifth Avenue, but I think I can manage to take us to Delmonico’s. We’re going.”
Violet wasn’t quite sure how she felt about it, but Mrs. Heaton seemed quite pleased, and she didn’t have the heart to object and take the smile from her face.
Once at the elegant restaurant, they were shown to a table and given menus. Thankfully, the interior was dimly lit, because while a few other female diners were dressed in the manner that she and Mrs. Heaton were, most were dressed in gowns the likes of which Violet had never even dreamed of owning.
She felt a bit out of place, but if Mrs. Heaton did, it never showed, and Violet tried to relax and enjoy herself. There were so many offerings on the menu, both in English and French, Violet wasn’t sure what to order and asked Michael to choose. He chose lobster bisque to begin the meal of the Delmonico steak with asparagus and creamed potatoes.
Violet had never seen the evidence of so much wealth in her life from both the sights she’d seen on Fifth Avenue to the clientele of Delmonico’s. Once the waiter left them alone, she said so.
“There is a lot of wealth in New York City, to be sure. But there is also great poverty. You just can’t see it from