She Walks in Beauty Read Online Free PDF Page A

comfortable posture in which to sit. Moreover, whenever I moved, at least one of the corset’s six hundred bones poked into my sides. I counted the hours until I would be able to take it off and sleep.
    But that night, after the maid had removed the corset cover, she handed me my nightgown.
    “But you’ve forgotten to remove the corset.”
    She curtsied. “You’re to wear it, miss.”
    “I know. And I do. I will. But now it’s time for sleep.” Aunt had trouble finding maids that performed to her satisfaction. I was beginning to think this one’s time, too, was limited.
    “You’re to wear it while you sleep, miss.”
    “ While I sleep? But if I wear it, I will not sleep!”
    The maid bowed her head and curtsied again. “’Twas the missus’s orders.”
    If I could have reached the laces, I would have untied them myself. I had tried, in fact, that very afternoon. But they were located at the back of the garment and tucked into the corset where I could not find them.
    “Your nightgown, miss?”
    I surrendered and bowed to her suggestion.

    I tried. I truly tried to sleep.
    I relaxed my limbs and back completely, letting the tension run out from my shoulders to my fingertips. But still I was held in my cage, my back rigid, my hips constrained. I turned to my side, but it was no better. I could pass a hand between my waist and the mattress without touching either.
    I sighed and rolled and stared into the gloom for what seemed like an eternity. And then I got up. Or tried to. Since I couldn’t bend in the middle, I had to slide along the mattress, let my feet hang out over the edge, and wait for gravity to do its work.
    Once standing, I gathered up all the cushions in the room and then used them to prop up my pillows. Eventually, I found the perfect manner of sleep. By using all of the cushions, I created a kind of seat for myself. And it was in that way that I finally, and with great relief, found sleep. While sitting up in bed.

4
    TWO DAYS LATER, Aunt surprised me once again by wanting to go out. “You are to wear a walking costume.”
    “May I ask where we are going?”
    “To the dressmaker’s.”
    We stepped out into Father’s Victoria. But this time we went quite a bit farther. Along the way, we passed block after block of sidewalks that had been mounded with garbage, carriages parked atop them. Behind the buildings, lacing the streets together, was the elevated train track. Above the din of carriages and the shouts of people, the train’s rumble was constant. At one point, as we passed an intersection, I saw the train itself, shooting sparks and raining soot on those who had the misfortune to be walking beneath it. Like some mythical medieval dragon, it left shadow and darkness in its wake.
    Aunt wrapped my knuckles with her parasol. “Don’t lean out so. One would think you’d never seen this city.”
    I hadn’t. Not really. Oh, I’d gone with Miss Miller in the other direction, to the zoo and the Museum of Art, but I’d never been this far below Twenty-Fourth Street.
    When we reached our destination, we descended from the carriage and entered a shop bedecked in crystal chandeliers and silk tassels. It had been done in peach and gold, all warm and glowing. We were shown to chairs so overstuffed that I was challenged to maintain my balance, teetering first to one side and then to another, correcting my posture by bracing my boots against the floor.
    Aunt wasted no time in addressing herself to the dressmaker. “My niece must have everything. She’s to debut this season.”
    “ This season? I hardly think that we will be able to—”
    “I hardly think that you will be able to afford not to supply her wardrobe.”
    The dressmaker’s face went perfectly still for one long moment and then she closed her eyes. Inclined her head. “I see.” When she opened her eyes, she addressed herself to me. “Please stand.” At the wave of her hand, a half-dozen girls appeared. Two of them unfolded a