When she awoke, the clock on the dresser was showing 5:45. She'd slept for three hours. She did not have much time to dress. In fact, she had no idea what kinds of clothing had been left here for her.
She looked in the closet, and found several dresses in colors ranging from white to light pink. There were several pairs of shoes (the high-button kind, which were such a nuisance to put on), and two straw hats. In the bureau was everything else she needed. No jeans, no sneakers, no T-shirts. Girls here dressed like girls, she remembered from her briefing. Luckily, she was too young to have to wear the bustle that older girls wore, making them look like they had spare tires attached to their backsides.
She washed at the basin, chose a white dress, socks, and shoes, and soon looked like a fine Victorian young lady. She drew a deep breath, and felt ready to meet her hostess and the other boarders.
Descending the stairs, she was conscious of the other boarders looking at her. Her quick impressions were of a handsome young man in a suit that looked too tight; a young blonde woman who was strikingly pretty until Alex noticed the pock marks on her face; an older man who seemed distinctly unhappy; and a much older gray-haired man with a broad grin.
She gave them her best winning smile, and all but the unhappy man stepped to the bottom of the stairs to greet her. At that moment, a big, powerful-looking woman came out of the kitchen. "Welcome, my dear," she said, immediately dominating the group. "I'm Mrs. Bloomfield, and you must be Alexandra."
"Very pleased to meet you, ma'am," Alex replied. She was to use the more feminine-sounding "Alexandra" here.
"Come, let me introduce the others," Mrs. Bloomfield said. She first introduced the young woman, Alice Farnsworth, a clerk in one of the large insurance companies in town. Her pretty face was disfigured by the pock marks, which Alex remembered were very common at this time, the result of smallpox, probably when she was a child. But Alice had the kind of smile that drew one's attention away from the imperfections, and lit up her whole face.
Next was Ned James, a young account manager at another insurance firm. He had the look of an old-time heart-throb actor, Alex thought, with a pencil-thin mustache, pearly teeth, and a winning boyish grin. He wore a high-collared shirt with a tie, and his suit accented the thinness of his arms and legs.
The older man, Harry Lightcap, was a machinist in the Colt rifle factory. Alex knew that Hartford was famous for guns and insurance. Mr. Lightcap shook her hand warmly. He had the solid look of someone used to hard physical labor, though age was starting to take its toll.
The final man, introduced only as Mr. Strong, was a travelling salesman, and looked like one. He seemed dressed for a business meeting, with a black pin-striped suit, high-collared shirt, and thin black necktie. He had a dark complexion and a short black beard. He extended his hand for a prim handshake, but never smiled. Alex did not anticipate that they'd become close friends.
Mrs. Bloomfield next hustled Alex to the dining room, where they all sat at the long table. Mrs. Bloomfield helped Jane serve dinner, a large ham with diamond-shaped cuts and aromatic cloves in the center of each diamond. They brought out buttery mashed potatoes, several vegetables, and freshly-baked rolls. It was as grand as a holiday dinner, and everyone did justice to the meal, especially Alex, who was famished.
"Will you be with us long?" Ned James asked Alex.
"Only a few days, until my father finishes some business in town. He's working with several insurance companies," she answered.
They exchanged various details of their everyday life, except for Mr. Strong, who remained aloof. No questions were directed to him, though Alex did not detect any hostility. It seemed they were simply respecting his desire for privacy.
A favorite topic was the 'telephone', which was just now being introduced into some of the more well-to-do homes in town. "I understand that some of the folks at Nook Farm have 'em," Harry Lightcap added. "They like to be first with everything."
Alex's heart skipped a beat. Nook Farm was the community of writers, artists, and other intellectuals that were the center of Hartford society. Samuel Clemens' home was in Nook Farm.
"Can't see much sense in it myself," Ned James said. "I can't see any need to have one in everyone's home. A lot of foolish extra expense."
Mrs. Bloomfield agreed. "I can understand having one for an emergency, but I wouldn't need one every day. I think it will only be a gadget for the rich," she said. The others at the table agreed, except for Mr. Strong who gave no indication, and Alex who simply stayed quiet.
The meal was concluded with a warm blueberry pie, coffee, and cold milk for Alex. The blueberry pie was better than any she'd ever tasted before. Ned James and Mr. Strong went into the parlor with their pipes. Alice and Alex helped clear the table, then went with Mrs. Bloomfield onto the front porch. It was still light out, and Alex quietly watched the children at play. Everything seemed to move slowly and serenely. Everything was at peace. Goldenrod lay on the porch next to Mrs. Bloomfield's chair. The three women chatted. After a while, Jane brought out three glasses of lemonade, said goodnight, then left for her own home. Ned joined them on the porch. Mr. Strong had gone to his room to read.
Gradually, the shadows lengthened and lightning bugs began glittering in the trees. Ned told a long story about something that happened at work, but Alex could not follow it. She smiled when the others chuckled, though she missed the whole point.
She sank back into the soft cushions, and felt totally at peace. The evening was warm, but a gentle breeze cooled the air enough to be comfortable. The voices of the children faded away. A lone dog barked. Several neighbors stopped by to chat briefly. Alex was introduced, and felt accepted by everyone. It was now dark enough on the porch that she saw only outlines of the others, and the glowing coal of Ned's pipe. Along the street, only a few strollers remained; she could see them when they were in the warm yellow glow of the gas street lamps, then watched them disappear, then reappear again in the next circle of light.
She jerked her head upward as she caught herself falling asleep. Mrs. Bloomfield noticed, and suggested that Alex was probably tired from travelling today. Alex agreed, said her good-nights, and went upstairs to her room. She felt warm and wonderful all over. In only a few hours, she'd come to love this time and place. She undressed, lay down on the bed in a circle of moonlight, and listened to the sound of a train far away. She slept.