Instead, she remembered the conversation with Mrs. Heaton earlier and before long, her thoughts were in such turmoil wondering what Harlan would do when he found she’d left town that she couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned for what seemed like hours before flinging back the covers. Violet got out of bed and paced around her bed and back again.
Harlan was not going to be happy, that was for sure. But would he try to find her? She prayed not. Still, afraid that he might look for her, she’d bought a ticket as far as Baltimore, then bought another one from there to New York City. She hoped it would be impossible for him to locate her, should he decide he must.
Violet stopped and pulled the curtain away from the window. Lights were still shining in some of the homes nearby and she could even see a light or two in the next street over. Somehow the light in the darkness comforted her, knowing others were up at this hour. Back home there wouldn’t be a light shining anywhere this time of night, except for the taverns and the small police station. But this city was so large—surely Harlan would never find her here if he did decide to look for her.
She dropped the curtain and went back to bed. It wasn’t going to do any good to worry about him. He’d either track her down or not. But he couldn’t make her marry him. Worrying about him would serve no purpose; she’d just turn it over to the Lord and leave it in His hands.
* * *
The next morning Violet awakened to the sounds of doors opening and closing once more. She looked at the small clock on her bedside table. Six-thirty. She was used to sleeping a bit later than that on a Saturday, but she was eager to start the day.
Throwing back the covers, she hopped out of bed and hurried to the windows. The sun was up and it looked as if it were going to be a beautiful spring day.
Violet started to walk to the bathroom, but she heard water running. Elizabeth would be getting ready for work. She’d said she worked a half day today, and Violet was glad she hadn’t hurried to the bathroom right away. It seemed everyone had a job or somewhere to go except her, and she certainly didn’t want to hold Elizabeth up.
The water stopped running, but Violet waited until she heard the bathroom door shut from the other side, signaling that Elizabeth had finished washing up. Even then she knocked just to make sure the bathroom was empty before entering.
Once she’d finished freshening up, she went back to her room to dress in a burgundy skirt and ivory shirtwaist. She put her hair up, twisting it up into a knot on top of her head in one of the current styles, and made her bed before leaving the room. By the time she arrived downstairs, some of the boarders she’d met the evening before were heading out the door and they wished her well in her search for employment.
“Thank you,” she called as she waved goodbye and entered the empty dining room. She took a plate and began to fill it from the sideboard, choosing a couple of slices of bacon, some scrambled eggs and a biscuit. Just as Violet took a seat at the table, Maida, or maybe it was Gretchen, came in the room. On closer inspection, Violet decided it was Maida. She was a little taller and her hair was a darker shade of blond.
“Good morning, Miss Burton.”
“Good morning, Maida.” Violet knew she got it right when she was rewarded with a smile.
“Did you sleep well last night?” the maid asked.
“I did.”
“Would you like tea or coffee this morning?”
“Tea, please.”
Maida poured her a steaming cup from the silver pot on the sideboard. “Mrs. Heaton asked me to let her know when you came down. She’ll be joining you soon.”
“Wonderful. Maida, do you know where the morning paper might be? I’d like to look over the classifieds.”
Mrs. Heaton walked into the room just then, the newspaper in her hand. “It’s right here, dear. I’ve been looking over them for you.”
Maida poured Mrs. Heaton a cup of tea and set it at her place at the table. “Would you like me to prepare you anything, ma’am?”
Mrs. Heaton glanced at the offerings on the sideboard. “No, thank you, Maida. There is still plenty here to choose from.”
After Maida replaced the pot on the sideboard and left the room, Mrs. Heaton handed Violet the paper. “There are several positions you might be interested in, dear. If you see anything you want to apply for, I’ll be glad to accompany you on Monday to put in applications. However, I hope you will let yourself rest this weekend. Besides, some of the other boarders might come back with news about openings in their companies this evening.”
“That would be wonderful.” Violet took the folded New York Tribune Mrs. Heaton handed her. “I’m sure I will take you up on the offer to go with me on Monday. I wouldn’t have the faintest idea on where anything is located.”
“I thought you might enjoy a ride around town today so that I can show you several of the places you might want to apply at on Monday—if you see anything that appeals to you.”
Remembering the terrible traffic of the day before, Violet didn’t exactly look forward to getting out in it again, but she did want to see the city. While Mrs. Heaton filled her plate, Violet looked at some of the circled entries. There were several requests for shopkeeper positions, a straw-hat presser—whatever that was—and an opening for a correspondent. Those were the only ones Mrs. Heaton had circled, but Violet’s gaze skimmed the rest. A lady wanted a person to do writing for her at home; another wanted a companion, but that meant living at the residence, and Violet knew she wouldn’t want to do that.
She liked being right here. When she’d awakened this morning, it’d been quite comforting to know that she was in the home of someone she was acquainted with, someone she could call a friend.
“What do you think? Do any of those positions sound good to you?” Mrs. Heaton took her seat at the table.
“I’m not sure appealing to me is the important thing,” Violet said. “I need work, so most likely I’ll accept any decent position I’m offered.”
“Don’t feel you must rush into employment, Violet. I’d prefer you take your time and find something you believe you’ll be happy at. One good thing about the Butterick position is that you’d know someone who works there, and you’d have company for the trips to and from work.”
“But we don’t know if that is still open, do we?”
“You didn’t see it?” Mrs. Heaton jumped up and came over to her. “Oh, dear, it’s on the top of the next page.”
She took the paper from Violet and turned the page. There, at the top, was circled: “Pattern cutter/Pattern folder wanted. No experience necessary. Will train. Apply at 555 Broadway Monday through Friday, 8:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m.”
Violet looked up at Mrs. Heaton. “Oh, yes, I would like to apply there. They’re willing to train me and that is exactly what I need.”
“And once you are established here and meet more people, if this position isn’t one you like, it will be easier to find another one. You’ll know your way around the city and you’ll have a résumé.”
Violet couldn’t help but chuckle. “You speak as if I already have this position. It may be filled by Monday.”
“I don’t think so. But we won’t know until then. In the meantime, I’ll show you around so that you can see where some of these places are. We’ll be on our way as soon as we finish breakfast.”
“Where is it you are off to so early in the day, Mother?”
Violet’s breath caught in her throat at the