but she would get there five minutes early. That would impress them. Promptness was essential in domestic service.
Mrs. Larkin had given her a handbook to read about how domestic servants—from scullery girls to butlers—were expected to behave. Hannah had almost memorized the book, reading and rereading the sections on why girls were dismissed. The reasons were fairly clear—all of which, from drunkenness to stealing, were listed under the heading of “Inappropriate Behavior.” Most of it was clear and easily avoided, but there was one short paragraph that disturbed her. Mrs. Claremont, the author of the book, had written, “Of course, if a servant appears eccentric or odd, or for one reason or another just does not seem to fit in the household, she can be let go. Usually if this is the case, a severance payment is made.”
Money or no money, severance was a harsh word. Hannah knew what it meant. Dismissed, discharged, cut off. She simply could not be cut off. For cut off now might mean being sent away, far, far from Boston. Far from the salt air of the sea.
4 NUMBER 18 LOUISBURG SQUARE
H ANNAH MADE HER WAY up the steep brick sidewalk of Mount Vernon Street, which bordered the west side of Louisburg Square near the top of Beacon Hill. Four rows of stately redbrick houses around the square looked down on a gated, leafy park. Mrs. Larkin had told her that number 18 would be on the far side of the park, the third house from the right. She stopped and counted in three houses to find number 18, which was almost identical to all of the others. There was a disturbing rigidity to the overall design—the flat fronts, the lines of shutters painted a dark green that appeared almost black. Hannah could not help but think of the ominous words of Mrs. Claremont in the book: “Of course, if a servant appears eccentric or odd, or for one reasonor another just does not seem to fit in the household, she can be let go. Usually if this is the case, a severance payment is made.” I will fit in! Hannah thought, and marched resolutely up the walk to the front door of number 18.
Hannah was happy that number 18 was one of the few houses with a bowed front. It gave the house a more welcoming appearance. Like all of the houses, number 18 had a tiny front yard with a low wroughtiron fence. In the middle of the yard was a tree bare of leaves but with visible buds that appeared swollen in anticipation of spring, though it would be another week until the beginning of March.
In the middle of number 18’s door there was a brightly polished brass lion’s head clutching a large H in its mouth. Hannah lifted the H and tapped it against the plate of the door knocker, which also had an H inscribed on it. She waited the better part of a minute, but no one appeared. She knocked again, louder. Still there was no sign of movement. Hannah tipped her head toward the heavy, carved door and pressed her ear against the wood, straining to hear through it.Just then there was a loud creak and the door swung open. She tumbled against something firm.
“Ooh! Ooooh! I’m so sorry.”
“I should think so…what in the name of—?”
Oh, no! How could I have forgotten. Back door! The thought coursed through Hannah’s head too late. Had she not read in the handbook Mrs. Larkin gave her that service people must always use the service entrance at the back of the house? Within the first ten seconds, before she had even entered the house, she had succeeded in making herself an ill fit. A dozen words flew through her head. Abnormal, weird, outlandish. Yes, there’s a good one , she thought. Might as well just hang a signboard from me. OUTLANDISH GIRL APPLYING FOR A JOB IN LOUISBURG SQUARE .
A very tall man was now brushing off his doublebreasted frock coat. The small brass buttons were as polished as the door knocker, and the letter H gleamed from them.
“Mr. Hawley, I am so sorry!”
“I am not Mr. Hawley. I am the butler and you I presume are the girl