A Desire to Hide Part 55

“I suppose you have seen the papers, Mr. Krugs,” said Peter, once the detective had hurriedly shown them into his office, and managed to find seats enough for all of them. Since few people came to consult with him in entire family groups, and the detective only had two seats for guests, this last part had been managed with some difficulty. In the end it was solved by Mr. Krugs surrendering his seat to Ann, and standing, while Mary was placed on a spare chair borrowed from the neighboring publishing concern that Mr. Krugs shared a building with. It was easy for Mary to see why it had been a spare, as it creaked precariously even under her light frame, with every shift in her body weight she had to worry about whether or not it was going to surrender completely and leave her sitting on the floor.

“I have seen little of anything, Mr. Wells, but the insides of taverns the past few nights,” said Mr. Krugs, motioning to his clothing. “I was asked my a reverend of my acquaintance to examine the conditions of some of these establishments in the neighborhood of the Five Points, where few people care for reading, when they have the knowledge of it.” Mary perked up, and hoped that the detective would go into more detail about what he had found, but he was all business with Peter, who he rightly assumed had no interest in the taverns of the slums.

“Then I ought to warn you, Mr. Krugs, that the papers have had nothing kind to say of Charity and myself for the past two days, and that if you agree to be retained by us, you will likely fall victim to the papers as well.”

“What sort of things have they said?” asked Mr. Krugs, all business. Peter was, however, not entirely comfortable giving specifics, and there was an awkward silence until Ann passed over the article that Peter had first shown them when he was warning them of what was to come. It had been neatly clipped from the paper, something that did not escape the notice of Peter.

“You saved that slanderous piece of trash?” Peter demanded, while Mr. Krugs looked it over carefully.

“I thought it was important,” said Ann, though she looked down, clearly a little ashamed in the face of her brother’s anger.

“Is it true, Mr. Wells,” asked Mr. Krugs, setting down the article and looking straight into Peter’s eyes, much to the shock of everyone, even Ann.

“If it was, I would not have come to you,” said Peter, trying to meet coolness with coolness. “I think I know who has spread these lies about me and my fiance, and I would like to prosecute him, the lawyer will not have it, however, unless we have proof that he has done what I suspect. Ann and Mary seemed under the impression that you were the man for this task.”

“Who do you suspect?” asked Mr. Krugs.

“Charles Hendley,” said Peter, his voice flat.

“The supposed victim of your plot?” asked Mr. Krugs, now looking a little more interested. “He is the son of the merchant family, is he not?”

“He is. I worked for his family until this paper left the hands of a newsboy and reached the eyes of my employer. No firm is willing to face scandal,” added Peter, his voice the most bitter that either of his sisters had heard since he had lost his job. “I value Charity over any employment however,” Peter added, apparently aware that for a moment he had allowed his anger to shine through.

“What will you do if you do discover that Mr. Charles Hendley is the one who gave the newspapers this story?” asked Mr. Krugs.

“I have already said, we will sue him for slander, or I ought to say that Charity will. To say that I am a traitor is hard to deny, as I began to court Charity against his desires. To call Charity a woman of the street however, is not something that can be defended or forgiven.”

“I will see what can be done,” said Mr. Krugs, looking down, and seeming a little embarrassed by Peter’s intensity.

“Thank you very much, Mr. Krugs,” said Charity, smiling warmly at the detective. “Ann seemed very sure of your abilities,” she added, which was enough to make both the detective and the girl blush deeply, and Mary smile behind her hand. Poor Peter looked at everyone with the height of confusion, uncertain why those words had elicited such a strong response. No one was ready to tell him yet however.

A Desire to Hide Part 43

“Perhaps I should invite you and your family over for dinner tomorrow evening. Of course I will have to ask Mother first, and see if she agrees. It might be well for me and Mary to have a chance to get to know one another before I marry Peter.”

“Please do not tell Peter that I came and spoke to you about this,” said Mary quickly. The last thing that she wanted was for Peter to think that both she and Mary were trying to interfere with his romance.

“Do not worry, what I want to do is create peace, not more trouble,” Charity reassured her. “If you think that Peter would not like us putting our heads together, then I will simply say nothing.”

“It is not like that, entirely,” said Ann. “It is just that with all of this happening with Mary, Peter is a little suspicious of his sisters at the moment. He has always had difficulty keeping the actions of one of us apart from the actions of both of us. I suppose it is because he is always busy, and he has little time to think on domestic matters.”

“Perhaps I will be able to change that as well,” said Charity, smiling.

“I certainly hope so,” said Ann, her voice sincere. She doubted very much that Charity would stand to be as neglected as Mary and Ann had been in the recent years, and she wanted the marriage to be a happy one. Perhaps because Charity was one of the few people who had simply sat there and allowed Ann to speak what was on her mind, but Ann was sincerely hoping that everything would go well for her.

“Speaking of dinner, would you like to join us? It is naturally only a cold meal today, since it is a Sunday, but I am certain that my Mother and Father would not begrudge a guest. Father often has company come so he is not likely to complain if I have a guest.”

“I should not,” said Ann, standing to go. “I told Mary and Peter that I was only going to be gone a short time, and if they have stopped fighting long enough to think of me, they are likely wondering where I have gotten to.”

“I am sorry that you have to return to such a home,” said Charity. “I mean to make some changes to it before making it mine. I do not care for fights.”

“Both Peter and Mary are fine people. They often get on very well. It is just that they cannot seem to agree on the things that really matter to them, and that can make things difficult. Mary means to help the poor, Peter would rather neither of us ever were forced to see them. That alone can cause enough trouble for a week’s worth of fights.”

“She ought to speak with our family priest, he does a good deal of charity work in the neighborhood by the docks with another priest here in the city. I am certain that he would have some organizations for women that she might join.”

“I do not know as she would care for that,” said Ann, her voice doubtful. “I will tell her that you made the suggestion however. Mary enjoys going her own way, and does not care much for working with others.”

“She is not social?” asked Charity.

“Oh, she is far more social than I am, but that is not when she is doing something of use. When she is working on something, she would far rather be alone. Mr. Krugs says that he will look after her, so that she does not come to any mischief, and I suppose that that is what I must be happy with. I ought to go though, I have poured out enough of my troubles to you. I am sorry again for dropping in as I did. I suppose it was terribly rude of me.”

“You ought to stop in more often, Mary as well,” said Charity. “I am getting to know Peter very well, but I am not only going to be living with him. I will ask him to bring you and your sister with him to dinner tomorrow. Do not worry, I will not tell him of your visit. As you said, it might cause you trouble if he was to think that we were plotting something behind his back.”

“Good evening then,” said Ann.

“Please, allow me to show you the door,” said Charity, and she did. The two women smiled at one another as they parted, and Ann could not help but think that she had found herself a valuable friend as she walked back into the fray of her own home.

A Desire to Hide Chapter 40

Ann had thought that perhaps Mary might simply spend the night in their room, thus avoiding the storm when Peter got home, but that proved to be far too optimistic. Instead, on hearing the door slam with Peter’s entrance into their rooms, Mary sailed out of the bedroom like a stately ship of war, ready to meet the confrontation head on. She had changed her clothing now, and looked as much like a proper young lady as any that might be met on the street, though Ann was not certain if this was because she thought that it would lend any weight to her argument with Peter, or if it was simply the vanity that Ann knew Mary had for her own appearance all too well.

“Finally home, are you?” asked Mary, not even attempting to seem friendly.

“I suppose I ought to be surprised that you are home at all,” responded Peter.

“Do you expect that I should spend all of my time here?” asked Mary. “I should go crazy.”

“Most girls go to the shops when they wish to leave the house, they are not brought home by detectives. What he thought of your behavior I cannot imagine.”

“You for one, cannot imagine I care what he thought, or you either for that matter,” said Mary. Ann groaned slightly, but only under her breath, not wanting any of their attention on her. It seemed as if Mary was intentionally making things worse for herself. All Ann could think of was the many diplomatic ways that Mary could be dealing with this situation, but as soon as she thought of them, she dismissed them all, realizing that none of them were like Mary. No matter how fond she was of her sister, she was going to have to face the simple fact that Mary was a straight forward person, who voiced her thoughts with no consideration for others. Ann was willing to accept that in some people this might be considered honesty, but sometimes Mary crossed that line into rudeness.

“You forget that I am your sole source of support,” said Peter. Ann could hardly believe that she had just heard that, and she gave him a look that she hoped made it very clear that she currently felt that he was the scum of the earth. It did not matter to her how angry Peter was with Mary, to threaten to cast her out of the house for a single transgression, no matter how serious, was so shocking, that Ann nearly joined in the fight on Mary’s behalf out of spite. She stopped herself however. Domestic peace was a far more important thing. Ann took a deep breath, and stepped in between the two combatants. It was a brave, but stupid thing to do, and it did no good because both Peter and Mary were angry with one another enough that they completely ignored that Ann was even there. Instead they simply argued around her, with Peter speaking over her head, and Mary leaning around her to rebut.

“If you think I have shamed you now, imagine me, your own sister, wandering the street. I would be careful to assure people of our relation,” Mary added.

“How can you have so little shame?” demanded Peter.

“I have shame, but none of your foolish pride,” replied Mary. “What is there to be ashamed of in wishing to help people? I went to that neighborhood on a mission of charity. The only charity you bring into this house is the one that you have declared you are marrying.”

“Is supporting two sisters not enough for you?” demanded Peter. “If I had no charity then you and Ann would be on the streets, and this is the gratitude I get. It is only due to my kind heart that I do not send you out of this house.”

“Peter,” said Ann, finally no longer able to keep her tongue still. “I’ll not listen any longer to such speech. You ought be ashamed to speak so to your own sister.”

“But what Mary has said meets with your approval, does it?” demanded Peter, both hurt and stung.

“Not in the slightest, but it is less hurtful than the words that are coming from your mouth.”

“Then would you have me do nothing, with her traipsing about in places that the police do not care to go?” asked Peter, in what he felt was a very reasonable voice considering the circumstances. He was suddenly facing an unexpected united front of both of his sisters.

“Not at all, but I will not stand by to listen to you threaten to cut her off,” said Ann. “Please calm yourself. At least Mary is not shaming us now by shouting so loud that the neighbors can hear, unlike you.” Peter blushed.

“While I will not cut your off, Mary, you may consider your allowance at an end until further notice,” said Peter, taking a deep breath.

“Then I will simply have to pawn the coat that I have been working on for you,” said Mary, turning away, and preparing to return to the bedroom. “As it is, I have paid for the trim and the buttons, so I may do with it what I please.”

“I will not have a sister of mine be seen entering a pawn shop,” shouted Peter, as Mary slammed the door between them.

A Desire to Hide Part 39

Since Mary and Mr. Krugs had not come home, and had instead went straight to Peter’s office, the first news Ann heard was when Mary came bursting into the door, all smiles. Peter had been forced to go and find himself a meal at a restaurant, since he now would not be able to eat later, and so he had not had time to lecture her too badly. There was likely to be a lot of uncomfortable questions that night about what she had been doing in the slums, but for now she was going to celebrate everything working so well. Peter could shout all he wanted in any case, Mary had finally found an outlet for her energy, and it was a glorious feeling. If she had expected a joyful Ann however, Mary was to be disappointed. Instead Ann stood up, and faced down her sister in a towering anger that made Mary almost afraid. She had hardly ever even heard Ann raise her voice, and now it seemed that Ann would very much like to hit her.

“Do you have the slightest notion the trouble and worry you have caused?” Ann demanded. “And you prance in here, as if you have been on a frolic. I don’t know what I will say to Mr. Krugs when I see him again. I should be very much surprised if he ever calls again. I went to him all in a panic, telling him to search for you, and now I suppose I will have to go and apologize to him for having wasted his time.”

“He certainly did not waste his time,” said Mary, looking surprised. “He found me, and saw me safely back to a street that a woman can walk on without being threatened You would not believe the things that I have seen today, Ann. As for Mr. Krugs, you will certainly see him again, he has promised to take me back there.”

“To the Old Brewery? I cannot believe that he would take anyone anywhere so dangerous as that willingly,” said Ann.

“Not to the Old Brewery,” said Mary, a little embarrassed, “I did not make it so far. There was a street fight, and a man with a gun, it was all very exciting,” she added, trying not to show Ann how frightened she had been. “So instead I was led to a mission that operates right there in the Five Points, and they do splendid work. That’s where Mr. Krugs found me, he does some work for them at times I believe, and he said that he would escort me back there if I wanted to go, so that I did not have any other trouble.”

“Why would you want to go back to such a place?” asked Ann, looking disgusted. “I should never return to a place in which I might have been shot.”

“Might have been, but was not, and that was before Mr. Krugs found me. I shall be much safer in his company. I am very much interested in the work that Mr. Pease is doing there, and would like to help him. Surely you cannot object to my desire to help those who worse off than we are.”

“If I cannot object, I am certain that Peter can. Does he know of your intention?” Ann demanded.

“Naturally he does not, nor shall he until I am ready to tell him. I am owed at least that much from you, as I have done you a good turn today,” Mary added.

“I cannot imagine what good you think you have done me by causing me so much worry, and putting everyone to such trouble,” said Ann coldly.

“I introduced Peter to Mr. Krugs, as my savior. Peter knows all about me having gone into the Five Points, and knows nothing Mr. Krugs visiting here before. Peter now has to like him, and Mr. Krugs can court you properly now.”

“You let Peter discover that you had gone off in such a fashion?” asked Ann, who was far more concerned about her sister at that moment, than her love life.

“Peter was bound to find out sooner or later, and I would rather he find out now. It will make things easier in the future. The same is true for Mr. Krugs. In this way you will not be surprising him with a secret courtship, but rather you will be keeping the company of my hero, the man who saved me from my own foolishness.”

“So you admit it,” said Ann, her voice slightly triumphant.

“I was speaking as Peter will see it, not as myself,” said Mary, taking off her hat and sitting down. “I clearly do not think it foolish as I mean to repeat it, and I am not the sort to repeat something I feel is making me a fool.”

“What of what the rest of the world thinks,” asked Ann.

“The rest of the world has not seen how those people live, Ann,” said Mary, for once showing something other than good nature. “If they had, they would not be able to remain still either. I mean to mend something of what I have seen, even if all of the world tries to stop me. That goes double for Peter,” she added.

“Is this all about his marriage?” asked Ann, her voice suspicious.

“Why is it that everyone thinks that?” asked Mary, now her voice growing even more annoyed.

“Because that is very much what it sounds like,” said Ann.

“Peter has nothing at all to do with this, I assure you,” said Mary, and she stood up, and stormed to the bedroom. Ann meanwhile sat down, and tried to compose herself for what she knew was going to be a stressful and trying evening once Peter got home.

A Desire to Hide Part 37

“I propose to allow you to allow you to play the hero, Mr. Krugs,” Mary stated plainly as the detective walked her home, “in the name of repaying your concern for my sister, and your willingness to work for her without charge. At the same time, I mean to introduce you to Peter, who it is high time that you met, if your intentions towards Ann are pure,” she added, a hint of her old suspicion in her voice.

“How do you think I am supposed to do this?” asked Mr. Krugs.

“Go to Peter, me in tow naturally, and declare that since he is my guardian, he ought to know that I was out and about in such a poor neighborhood without an escort. You, as my rescuer, are naturally a hero of the family, and you may court Ann in the open, without Peter feeling that he can object. Ann likes you more than passing well, and so I shall give you what help I can.”

“Placing yourself in hot water with your brother,” pointed out the detective.

“I doubt much, most of Peter’s steam is going into his wedding, living little of it to be directed in my direction,” said Mary, her voice showing the resentment that she had never tried to hide. The detective stopped completely in his steps to speak to her face to face.

“I almost admired your fire, but if this is about your brother marrying, then I have lost it all. I had thought that maybe you honestly cared, but if this is simply a game for you to strike at your brother, you may leave matters alone. I do not care to be helped, either in my work with the poor, or in my courtship of your sister, if your motives are simply to hurt your brother.” Mary stared at him for a moment, and then in spite of herself she found that she was laughing. She ought to be angry, she knew. Here he was, chiding her on a public street, with all of the world to see, and accusing her of the worst of motives as well, and yet she found it funny. In part it was the way that he had gone formal again in his speech in his moment of anger. in part because it occurred to her that no matter what happened they seemed to always reach this point in their conversations. It seemed that once again, she was going to have to prove her intentions.

“In the past, I have allowed my siblings, and their sensibilities, to prevent me from doing as I would please.” The detective showed his doubt in this with a snort, but Mary carried on, now resuming to walk as well. “Now however, I find myself in mind of a purpose that I have no intention of releasing so easily as the ones I have had in the past. Indeed I mean to allow no force in the world to prevent me from carrying it through. Mr. Pease was telling me that there is no complete book on the slums of New York City, while I was shown one from London. I find this shameful. It is no wonder that nothing is done to truly help the poor, most people live in happy ignorance of how they live. I mean to write it. Under a different name of course, not to protect Peter, but because people shall be more likely to read it if they think it written by a man. If you like, I could use your name,” Mary added, smiling at the man.

“No,” he said flatly. “This was an adventure, but it must not be repeated. To write a book of the nature you describe, you would have to walk daily into the blackest pits of the city, and speak to the worst cut throats and badger men in the city.”

“I naturally realize this,” said Mary, attempting to show in her voice just how indifferent she was on the subject. She had great energy that had long been calling out for an outlet, and now she had found one. One that she could be proud of at that. “You are a friend of Mr. Pease, clearly you are not indifferent to the plight of the people around us. For that matter you are clearly not so poorly educated as you would have people think at first meeting you. Surely you understand the power that such a book might have. You should be offering your aid to me, not rejecting the idea.”

“You would accept my help,” asked the detective, his voice sounding shocked, and Mary had the very comfortable feeling that once again she had caught him off balance.

“Certainly, Mr. Krugs. I might well start looking at you as a friend now, since, unless I very much miss my guess, Ann means to make you a part of our family sooner or later. Be warned Mr. Krugs, Ann might be more quiet, and lady-like than I am, but she is just as stubborn about what it is that she wants. You might well resign yourself now.”

“Are you saying this only so that I will feel obliged to help you,” asked Mr. Krugs, but at least he was laughing now.

“Not at all, Mr. Krugs. I only thought it far to give you a chance to run now, before you meet my brother. Once you meet him, there is little chance for your escape.”

“I am a happy prisoner, so lead on,” said Krugs, still smiling. Mary groaned, thinking that it sounded a little too much like a line from one of the terrible romances that her sister liked so well. If Mr. Krugs talked in such a manner all of the time, it would transport her sister to new realms of joy, it being very difficult to find a man who actually talked in such a manner in real life.

 

A Desire to Hide Part 36

“I should take you home now, Ms. Wells, before you cause your sister anymore worries than you already have. I am sorry, Mr. Pease, for the briefness of my visit. I will stop by tomorrow so we can speak on more important things,” he added, looking sharply at Mary.

“It would be best for you to know, Arthur, since you seem to know her family, that she was in the company of Mark O’Henry when she came here.”

“Fine company,” muttered Mr. Krugs. Then he turned back to Mary. “Let us go, now, Ms. Wells.”

“I very much enjoyed my visit,” said Mary, turning to the minister, and completely ignoring the impatience of the detective. “I should like to visit again, if I may, some other time. I admire your mission greatly.” She became aware of an awkwardness from the people around her, and she decided that she would have to put the matter into prospective for them.

“My interest in the condition of the poor is too great to allow disapproval to prevent me from exploring the matter. Whether you like or not, I shall do just that,” Mary said, looking straight into the eyes of Mr. Pease. This was his mission after all, and therefore the one that she needed to convince. It was Mr. Krugs who spoke however, Mr. Pease looking somewhat taken aback by the forwardness of Mary’s address to him.

“Don’t worry, Lewis, I will see that she comes and goes safely, for the sake of her sister, if not for her.”

“I will consider that a promise, Mr. Krugs,” said Mary, smiling. She somehow doubted that the detective was really intending to carry out his word, and was simply saying that to prevent her from creating a scene in front of his friend. She therefore took advantage of her position to pin him down to what he had said. “In that case,” Mary said, not looking to see what expression Mr. Krugs had, “I will thank you for your hospitality Mr. And Mrs. Pease. I am certain that Mr. Krugs will see me safely home.” With that she stood up, and allowed Mr. Krugs to escort her from the room. He said nothing as he walked her down the stairs, and through the door, but once they were out on the street he rounded on her.

“Don’t you care how you look in the eyes of the world?” he demanded. She could not help but notice that once they were away from Mr. Pease she was no longer Ms. Wells, and his language was far less flowery. She took it in stride however.

“Are you saying that I ought to be like Laura, and restrict myself to the genteel condescension that makes the animals to be fed from your hand of the poor?” Her voice just as angry, if she was not to be Ms. Wells, than he was certainly not going to be Mr. Krugs. “I’ll have none of that.”

“This is not a neighborhood that a lady ought to be prancing about in, with no one to accompany her,” said Krugs, not backing down. “But perhaps worse is to have a member of the Pug Uglies as your guide. Not only will your reputation suffer if it gets about, but so will your sisters.”

“And Peter’s,” added Mary, almost pleased with herself, though in all honesty she did not know who the Pug Uglies were. By the context she was willing to assume however, that he was speaking of the man in the hat who had taken her to the House of Industry.

“Your brother, as your guardian, would certainly be the most damaged, so think of him at least, before you carry out any more madcap schemes,” said Mr. Krugs, clearly not seeing how Mary’s mental landscape lay.

“Did Ann tell Peter where I had gone?” asked Mary.

“I don’t think she went to your brother at all, she came directly to me for help,” said the detective, who could not hide the pleasure in his voice at this fact. He was not wrong in thinking it a mark of esteem, and it was one that he would have been willing to go through a lot more trouble to earn. Indeed he had thought he was going to have to go through a lot more trouble than he had, and that thought was lightening his mood slightly. “She would hardly have gone to me had she gone to your brother, as you and your sister have made it so clear that he is not to know of me,” the detective added, his voice a little more sour. Mary considered this for a moment. It was true that to introduce Mr. Krugs to Peter was something that was likely to cause trouble, which was something that Mary had attempted to avoid when she had warned the detective to only visit during the day. Now however, Mary was doing her very best to stir up trouble, and so far her plan had only troubled the people who she had not meant to, Ann, and Mr. Krugs. She could repay them, and make Peter’s life difficult, all at the same time she realized.

“I mean no offense Mr. Krugs, but I do believe you truly love my sister,” Mary said, and she smiled sweetly at the man. It was perfectly understandable, in this sudden change of behavior from her, that he looked back down at her with nothing but deep suspicion in his eyes.

 

A Desire to Hide Part 35

Lewis Pease, when he arrived, proved to be a gaunt man, who wore all plain black clothing, and who was overjoyed to speak to Mary about his passion for helping the poor. It was clear that he was very proud of the work that he did, and was not going to neglect it, even for this unexpected visitor. He asked if Mary would be willing to wait in his office, while he made sure that the cloth he had carted in was taken care of, and that then he would be very happy to speak to her for as long as she liked. Mary was hardly in a position to object. Mrs. Pease showed her to the office, and left her with a cup of tea, and a book to read. The book was by a man named Mayhew, who Mary had never heard of before, but she found the book very interesting, even if it was about London, not New York. She had just reached a chapter on street markets when Pease entered the room.

“A splendid book, Ms. Wells, brought over by a friend from England when he last visited,” he said, seeing what it was that Mary was reading. “There is nothing so complete regarding our city yet, but I hope that one day there might be.”

“Is that a project you are considering to undertake, Mr. Pease?” Mary asked, setting the book aside.

“I have enough work with the mission, Ms. Wells,” said Mr. Pease, sitting behind his desk. “I will be forced to leave such a work to another, though of course I would offer that person as much assistance as I could.”

“It does seem as if a good deal of labor has been invested. Mrs. Pease showed me the many rooms you have here, but I saw little of the people. What sort of people come here in general?”

“The sort of people who inhabit this neighborhood, mostly Irish Catholics,” said Mr. Pease, shrugging his shoulders. Mary stifled a groan, it had been very much what she had feared when she had asked the question. Mr. Pease did not seem to notice her response however, because he continued. “I am a Methodist minister myself, but my missionary accepts all who need aid, no matter their faith.” Mary found some relief in this at least. She had began to like Mr. Pease, but then had feared that she was in the company of another one of those preachers who walked through the streets telling Catholics that they would go to Hell. The idea of a nondenominational mission appealed to her greatly. Just then Mrs. Pease came in however, so Mary had no chance to tell Mr. Pease how admirable she found his work.

“Arthur is downstairs, and would like to speak to you, Lewis,” said Mrs. Pease.

“Show him up,” said Mr. Pease, smiling at Mary. “I would like to introduce you, he is an old friend of mine. Sometimes he helps me with my work, and sometimes I help him with his.”

Mrs. Pease left, and soon steps on the stairs made it clear that she was returning with their guest. It was difficult to tell who was more surprised when the door opened and Mr. Krugs and Mary saw one another. Mary had half risen from her seat, to greet Mr. Pease’s friend politely, but quickly sat back down, while Mr. Krugs seemed to be having a good deal of trouble controlling his temper. He finally turned to Mr. Pease, not even greeting Mary.

“I had come with the intention of asking you to find this errant young lady, Mr Pease, but I see that she is not lost,” said Mr. Krugs, his voice frighteningly formal for someone who Mary normally thought of as crude and poorly spoken.

“She isn’t a runaway is she,” said Mr. Pease, looking at Mary with shock. She blushed deeply.

“I am not,” she protested.

“To be in this neighborhood without an escort, I had wondered,” spoke up Mrs. Pease.

“I am not running away from anything, Mr. Pease, Mrs. Pease. Mr. Krug, I do wish that you would not give them the wrong idea,” Mary added, glaring at the man. “I will admit that I allowed my curiosity and zeal for charity to overcome my judgement, that is all. Since I knew of no one to escort me, I came alone, to see for myself the conditions of the poor.”

“You have made your sister frantic, you realize, Ms. Wells. When she came to my office to retain me, she was almost hysterical.”

“You don’t mean to say that you have taken her money,” said Mary, now growing angry in her turn, but Mr. Krugs shook his head.

“I have taken nothing from her, but if you ever cause your sister as much distress as I have seen from her this day, I will not forgive you,” said the detective flatly, while Mr. And Mrs. Pease stood by, watching both of them awkwardly.

A Desire to Hide Part 34

It was somewhat embarrassing for Mary to realize that she was allowing herself to be escorted through the streets by such a disreputable man as the one who was now her companion. It was not as if they were going unnoticed either. On several occasions people called out, only to be warned off by her companion. He chose not to speak to her as they walked however, and Mary had the rather insulting feeling that he was as unhappy about being in her company as she was. She was puzzled that he did not realize that she was likely to be the best company he would ever have. She somehow doubted that her would ever be given the chance to escort a lady anywhere ever again.

“Here,” the man in the hat said finally, and Mary looked up at a large building made of brick. On the front of it, it proclaimed itself to be The House of Industry. Mary hung back, not certain if this was simply a large brothel that she would be dragged into if she grew close to the sill, there were stories of the sort, but the man in the hat ran up the steps and rang the bell. A woman answered the door, and the man in the hat and she had a quiet conversation, that made Mary all the more nervous because she could not hear it. She could not help but notice however that the woman, while her clothing was simple, was better dressed than any of the other women that Mary had seen in the neighborhood. Mary drew close enough to hear, and the woman turned to her.

“Poor child, you must be terrified,” said the woman. Mary was not certain if she was still frightened, or if she was angry at being spoken at in such a fashion. She still was not certain what the house was, or who the woman was, which made it difficult for her to decide.

“I’ll be goin’ then,” said the man in the hat, and without a further word, to either Mary or the woman at the door, he went off down the steps, and off down the street.

“If you had wished to see our institute, you might have asked, Miss, and we would have sent you a guide. I cannot say that you found yourself in good company, though of course his son is a very good student of ours. You’d best come in and see what it is that you came to see, and then we will see about finding you someone suitable to see you home.”

This speech was of more comfort to Mary than the woman could have ever imagined. For one, the reference to students gave Mary the idea that she was at a school. In second place was that the woman was concerned about suitable company for Mary to be seen with. It was clear to Mary that she had entered a world that she knew, even if the world around it was a strange one still. She therefore stepped into the building with great relief and looked about her. After all, it was clear that she was not going to be reaching the Old Brewery in this trip, and to tour this seemingly interesting institution was a better goal than to say that she had wandered aimlessly. Now at least, she could return home with the ability to say that she had seen how things were in the poorer neighborhoods. First she would have to speak to the woman standing beside her though, if only to justify herself.

“Please forgive me for dropping in like this, unannounced,” she said, sheepishly. “I have heard so much about this neighborhood, and the conditions that people live, that I simply had to see for myself. My name is Mary Wells,” she added, stretching out her hand.

“Ann Pease,” said the woman, taking the proffered hand. “I must say that it is gratifying to find people taking an interest in what it is that we are doing here. My husband is right now dealing with an order of cloth, but he should soon be available to speak with you. Until then, allow me to show you what we have done with the money so generously contributed to our cause. It is our belief here that little can be achieved until the residents in these neighborhoods may look on themselves with pride. To further this cause we teach the local children, those who are willing to learn, to read and write. We also teach any adults who come to us for lessons, though they are often even less willing. The ignorance here in the Five Points is the root of much misery.”

“Surely this is not all a school, Mrs. Pease,” said Mary, looking around the large building.

“Not at all, Ms. Wells,” said the woman, her voice growing proud. “Much of this building is workshops for garment making. We buy cheap cloth, and people come to make cheap clothing. A good deal of self respect comes to a man who is wearing clothing he does not mind being seen in. That, we believe is a first step to rehabilitation. Maybe then the man will be willing to come to church, and hear a sermon on the evils of theft, drunkenness, and murder, and perhaps the manner in which he lives his life will change. I believe that we are making a difference here.”

 “I should say, Mrs. Pease,” breathed Mary in awe. She had had the vain feeling that she was the only one who really cared about the poor of the city, and that the other charitable people were simply after the appearances and the outing. She was beginning to realize her mistake.

 

A Desire to Hide Part 30

Mary knew that Peter was angry with her, and so she avoided him, in any case she was still angry with him anyway. Ann, who felt uncomfortable with such a situation in general, did what she could to defuse the situation, but there was not actually much that she was able to do. No matter how much she told each of her siblings that the other one had not intentionally meant to hurt his or her feelings, all she got was rants. Peter felt that Mary had embarrassed him in front of Charity, who had been somewhat quiet on the way home for all of her seeming confidence. Mary on the other hand felt that Peter was acting as if they would behave entirely according to his plan for them, which was less and less what she had planed for herself. It was likely these thoughts that led her to act as she did. She had been thinking of venturing into the slums again anyway, but now it was an act of rebellion, which made it sweeter. She did not even care now if it was an Irish slum or not, she had decided she needed to be a little less tightly focused. What she wanted to know was how the poor really lived, not how Peter had raised her to believe they lived, and perhaps if there was a way to mend it.

While her sister, Ann, had refused to admit any knowledge of where a bad neighborhood could be found, the Sun Newspaper was more open on the subject. It seemed as if all of the really interesting news either happened in the worst neighborhoods, or in the wealthiest, and skipped the middle class neighborhoods such as the one that they lived in, entirely. It did not take Mary long to learn of the worst neighborhoods in the city. Satan’s Circle, and Hell’s Kitchen, both vice districts, with saloons named things like The Bucket of Blood contained within, offered her a chance to see what the underworld really looked like, and how it lived. There was a draw back to this however, all of the women there were automatically considered prostitutes, and Mary was not willing to go so far in tarnishing her good name. Instead she decided on what was considered the worst of the residential areas, The Old Brewery.

Much of what Mary could find on the subject of The Old Brewery was hearsay, and she did a lot of research through the back issues of The Sun that were laying around, having decided that it was to be her destination. The most helpful source had been a slumming guide book she had found by accident at a local bookseller. She had not dared buy the book and bring it home, she had told Ann and Peter that she was going for a new book of poetry, but she had thumbed through it as she stood in the shop and gleaned some information from it, including directions as to how to get to it. The few facts that she could find was that The Old Brewery was just what the name suggested, an abandoned brewery. Being a large building that no one was using, the city’s poor, and the lawless who needed a place to hide, had moved in, and made it their own. Police would not enter it. One newspaper article said that there was over a hundred people, all living together with no privacy, sleeping on the floor, in the largest room in the building alone. If it was true, Mary was positive it was something that she needed to see for herself, if only because she could not imagine it.

The guide book that she had thumbed through had offered some advice to visitors to the Old Brewery district, and though the book had been written for men, Mary suspected that the advice would hold true for her as well. The first piece of advice was not to look too wealthy when you went there, indeed people had supposedly been murdered for pennies, so best not to have anything either. Mary had very little spending money, since Peter was angry with her, so that was an easy thing to follow. As for looking poor, she pulled out an old shabby house dress that she no longer ever wore, and set that out. She could not imagine that she would stand out in that.

Ann was sewing on a new dress when Mary passed through the room. She had had a good deal of difficulty finding the perfect trim, and had dragged Mary to several shops before she had finally found it. Now that she had it, she had become so engrossed in the completion of the garment that she had not even thought about what Mary might be doing in the other room. Ann did finally look up when she heard the door to their rooms open however. Mary knew that Peter liked it better if they went around together rather than alone since it was safer. Ann was even more shocked when she saw what Mary was wearing. It was the sort of dress that neither of them would even dare wear outside of their rooms it was so shabby. Even if Mary and Ann had not cared about appearances, Peter would never allow it, since he cared a good deal. Ann had only kept it around because she had wanted to see if she might be able to use it for quilt squares.

“Where are you going?” asked Ann, trying not to allow the disapproval to show in her voice. Mary considered for a moment, and then decided that if she was going to spite Peter, she was going to really spite him.

“The Old Brewery,” she announced, and slammed the door behind her.

A Desire to Hide Part Fourteen

As Mary had supposed, their good work cut short, the other girls wanted to go to the shops in the nicer end of Broadway. Mary had left the house looking forward to it, but now she felt she had no appetite for shopping at all. She endured the first store, but she did not buy anything. As they stepped out onto the sidewalk again, the other girls already speaking excitedly about where they wanted to go next, Mary came to a decision.

“I am afraid I am feeling poorly. Perhaps I have what Ann complained of this morning. You will have to excuse me.” This was not a lie, she told herself, she suspected that she had exactly what Ann had, self respect.

“I will see you home, Miss,” said the detective who had thus far paid her such unwanted attention. “As we have left the less savory parts of town, I find that my time is my own.”

“That does not seem a universally held opinion,” said Mary, her voice acidic. She was watching the other private detectives dance attendance on Laura.

“They hope for a tip, Miss,” said the detective, frankly.

“And you do not?” asked Mary. “I tell you frankly, you will not get one from me.”

“Allow me to see an ill young lady home without being suspected of an ulterior motive, Miss,” said the detective. Mary thought that she had offended him, but he was grinning.

“It is gallant of you, sir,” said Mary, realizing that he was entirely serious. “It is out of your way entirely however I am certain, and I mean to walk. Perhaps the fresh air will mend my headache.”

“Consider it my thanks for your swift thinking earlier, Miss.”

“No thanks are necessary, sir. It was in my interest as well, you ought remember.”

“All the same, please allow me to see you home, Miss. As a token of my esteem.” There was little Mary could say to protest that, so they set off down the street together, Mary having given polite excuses and farewells to the other girls who were present. It was appalling to realize how little they had been affected by their near miss and Mary could not help but wonder if a large part of it was that none of them realized just how near it had been. That in its self puzzled Mary however, after all, there had been many anti-catholic, or anti-protestant, riots over the years. They had come very close to starting one, and she and the detective who now walked beside her seemed to be the only two who understood that. It made her almost feel companionably towards the detective. It certainly made her nicer to him when he tried to make conversation.

“A lucky thing for you, Miss, that there had been someone in those parts who had been named Mary Finnegan. It might have gone poorly had there not been.”

“I used the most common Irish name that I could think of, sir,” said Mary. “It is of the sort of name that appears often in the papers when they speak of washerwomen and the like.”

“You are the only young lady I know, Miss, who walks so quickly when she is feeling poorly.” Mary had not realized that she had started walking faster in her anger, but apparently she had been.

“If it was a complaint of anything but my head, sir, I would not be.”

“Yes, Miss. They were giving me a headache too,” said the detective, smiling.

“You presume too much,” said Mary, growing offended again. It was the truth behind her ailment, but she certainly did not care to have it known.

“No young lady with a headache has ever had her legs pumping as you do,” said the detective. Mary almost tripped in shock and looked over at him, but he did not seem to realize that he had said anything in the least bit offensive. To speak of the limbs of a lady you hardly knew alone would be considered shocking, but to speak of her legs, and in public at that.

“I do not care to have you speak of them,” said Mary, her voice frosty. “It is not something that is done.”

“It is done every day, by people across the city, Miss,” said the detective laughing.

“Not in polite company, Mr,” Mary trailed off, realizing that she did not know his name at all, and therefore was not able to chide him with it.

“Krugs,” said the detective.

“Well then, Mr. Krugs, you will please keep a civil tongue in your head when you are speaking to a lady.”

“Yes, Miss,” said the detective, still looking pleased with himself. They were almost to the boarding house that Mary lived by then, and Mary decided she could easily make the rest of the walk with the detective in frosty silence. It was because she was looking in the other direction that she saw the newsboy. Normally she would not have noticed him, but she was in a strange mood, and there was something about the boy who looked to be about five, standing there with his papers, that would not allow her to simply walk past. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the five dollar bill that Peter had given her, shielding what she was doing from the street with her body.

“Here small-fry,” she said quietly. “Don’t say anything to anyone about it, and keep it well hidden, and the other boys won’t pinch it from you.” Then she stood and walked away, leaving the dazed newsboy behind her. She doubted the boy ever saw dollars, let alone five dollars.

“You ought not have done that, Miss,” said the detective.

“I set out to do a good deed today, Mr. Krugs, and now I have done one,” said Mary. “I am sorry if that was the tip that you expected.”

“I already told you I did not expect one, Miss. I meant that you should not have chided me on speaking proper and then used them newsboy words. Small-fry is not something that comes from a proper young lady’s mouth any more than the word legs.” Mary stormed up the stairs to her boardinghouse and slammed the door in his face. She did later feel badly for not thanking him for walking her home, but it was far too late by then, and she had been annoyed with him.