A Good Woman

Chapter 10

Since Josiah wasn’t close to his family, he and Annabelle spent both Thanksgiving and Christmas with her mother. And since he was alone, to be kind to him, they invited Henry on both occasions. He was bright, charming, and attentive to Consuelo, so he was a happy addition in their midst.

Hortie eventually calmed down, and got used to the idea of another baby. She wasn’t thrilled, but she had no other choice. She wanted more children anyway, she just hadn’t been ready for it quite so soon after her ordeal in August, but she was hoping this time would be easier, and she wasn’t as sick.

And Annabelle was dedicated to her work on Ellis Island, despite her mother’s continuing objections. She hadn’t asked Annabelle about grandchildren again, and had gotten the message loud and clear that it wasn’t going to be happening imminently, and although she was anxious for them, she didn’t want to intrude unduly. And she treated Josiah like a son.

It shocked all of them in April to realize that it had been two years since the sinking of the Titanic. In some ways, it felt like yesterday, in others a lot longer. So much had happened. Annabelle and her mother went to church that day, and had a special mass said for her father and brother. Her mother was lonely, but had adjusted to the losses in her life, and she was grateful that Josiah and Annabelle spent so much time with her. They were very generous about it.

In May, Annabelle turned twenty-one. Consuelo gave her a small dinner, and invited a few of their friends. James and Hortie came, several other young couples from their set, and Henry Orson, with a very pretty girl he had just met. Annabelle hoped that something might come of it for him.

They had a wonderful evening, and Consuelo had even hired a few musicians, so after dinner they all danced. It had been a lovely party. And that night, when Josiah and Annabelle went to bed, she asked Josiah the fateful question again. She hadn’t mentioned it in months. He had given her a beautiful diamond bracelet for her birthday, which everyone had admired, and was the envy of all her friends, but there was something else she wanted from him, which was far more important to her. It had been gnawing at her for months.

“When are we going to start a family?” she whispered to him, as they lay in bed side by side. She said it, staring up at the ceiling, as though if she were not looking at him, he would be better able to come up with an honest answer. There was much between them now that was unsaid. She didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, but after nine months of marriage, some things were hard to explain, and he couldn’t keep telling her they “had time” and didn’t “need to rush.” How much time?

“I don’t know,” he said honestly, looking unhappy. She could see it in his eyes when she turned to look at him. “I don’t know what to say to you,” he said, sounding near tears, and suddenly she was frightened. “I need some time.” She nodded, and gently turned to touch his cheek with her hand.

“It’s okay. I love you,” she whispered. There was so much she didn’t understand and no one she could ask. “Is it something about me that I can change?” He shook his head and looked at her.

“It’s not you. It’s me. I’ll work on it, I promise,” he said, as tears filled his eyes and he took her in his arms. It was the closest they’d ever been, and she felt as though he was finally letting walls down and letting her in.

She smiled then as she held him, and gave his own words back to him. “We have time.” As she said it, a tear rolled down his cheek.

In June, Consuelo left for Newport. With less to do in the city now, she liked being there before the season began. Annabelle had promised to come up in July, and Josiah at the end of the month.

Consuelo had already left the city, when the news from Europe riveted everyone’s attention. On June 28, 1914, Archduke Franz Ferdinand, heir to the Austro-Hungarian Empire, and his wife, Sophie, were visiting Sarajevo in Bosnia on a state visit, and were shot and killed by a young Serbian terrorist, Gavrilo Princip. Princip was a member of the Black Hand, a much-feared terrorist Serbian organization determined to end Austro-Hungarian rule in the Balkans. The Grand Duke and his wife were each killed by a single bullet shot at close range to their heads. The shocking news reverberated around the world, and the consequences in Europe were rapid and earthshattering and mesmerized everyone in the States.

Austria held the Serbian government responsible and turned to Germany for support. Within weeks of diplomatic floundering, on July 28, Austria-Hungary declared war on Serbia, and opened fire on the city of Belgrade. Two days later, Russia mobilized its troops and prepared for war. France was then obliged, under the conditions of the treaty they had with them, to support Russia in its plans for war. Within days, the house of cards that had held the peace together in Europe began to fall. The two shots that had killed the Austrian Archduke and his wife were drawing every major country in Europe into war. On August 3, despite its protests as a neutral country, German troops marched through Belgium to attack France.

Within days, Russia, England, and France allied and declared war on Germany and the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Americans and their government stood aghast at what had happened. By August 6 all the major powers in Europe were at war, and Americans could talk of nothing else.

Annabelle had delayed going to Newport as events in Europe unfolded. She wanted to stay home and be close to Josiah. It wasn’t their battle, although their European allies were going to war. But the United States showed no sign of getting involved. And Josiah reassured her that even if the United States did get pulled in at some point, which seemed unlikely, Annabelle had nothing to fear since, he reminded her, she was married to “an old man.” At forty-one, there was no risk whatsoever that he would be sent to war. President Wilson was assuring the American public that he had every intention of staying out of the war in Europe. But it was deeply disturbing anyway.

Annabelle went to Newport with Josiah at the end of July, two weeks later than she’d planned. She’d been busy working at Ellis Island as usual. Many of the immigrants were panicked over the safety of their relatives. It was obvious that the war, having been declared in many of the countries they came from, would affect their families, and stop some who had planned to join them in the United States. Many of their sons, brothers, and cousins had already been mobilized at home.

In New York, before they left, Annabelle, Josiah, and Henry talked about the war in Europe constantly during late-night dinners in the Millbanks’ garden. And even sheltered Newport was agog at what had happened. For once, the social life there, and everyone’s involvement in it, was taking a back seat to news of world events.

At Josiah and Annabelle’s first anniversary dinner, Consuelo noticed that the pair were closer than ever, although she found both of them serious, which was entirely understandable, given what was happening in the world. Henry had come up from New York to spend their anniversary with them.

Hortie had had her baby by then, which arrived two weeks late on the first of August, a girl this time. The delivery was long and arduous again, but not quite as bad as it had been with Charles. And Louise, as they called her, only weighed eight and a half pounds. Hortie couldn’t come to Annabelle and Josiah’s anniversary dinner at Consuelo’s house, as she was still in bed, being fussed over by her mother and a nurse. But James came to dinner of course. As he always did, he went to every party in Newport that summer, which he also did in New York, with or without Hortie.

August in Newport was quieter than usual, with news of the war in Europe. It seemed to be a cloud that hung over all of them, as they talked about their allies on the other side of the Atlantic and worried about their friends. Annabelle and Josiah discussed it constantly and enjoyed some quiet days together after Henry left. There seemed to be a peaceful understanding between Josiah and Annabelle, but Consuelo found them more serious than in the early days of their marriage. She was sad to see that they still hadn’t started a family, and Annabelle never mentioned it to her. Once, when she saw a sad look in her daughter’s eyes, she wondered if something was wrong, but Annabelle shared none of that with her, and seemed more devoted than ever to her husband. Consuelo still believed them to be a perfect match, and enjoyed being with them and their friends. She just hoped that a grandchild would appear one day, hopefully soon.

The young couple went back to New York in early September, Josiah to his duties at the bank, and Annabelle to hers on Ellis Island. She was getting more and more involved there, and had a deep affection and respect for the people she ministered to and assisted, most of whom seemed to be Polish, German, and Irish. And her mother still worried about her health, being in such close contact with them. They had so many illnesses, the children were often sick, and Consuelo knew that tuberculosis was rampant. What she didn’t know was that Annabelle was fearless and unconcerned in their midst. She worked there more than ever that fall, despite her mother’s warnings and complaints.

Josiah was busy at the bank, handling some very sensitive matters. As a neutral power, the U.S. government, although sympathetic to their plight, had refused to officially finance or supply the Allies’ war efforts in Europe. As a result, private enterprise and some very wealthy individuals had stepped in to offer their assistance. They were sending money, as well as shipping goods, not only to the Allies, but sometimes to their enemies as well. It was creating a huge stir, and managing those transfers required the ultimate discretion, and Josiah found himself handling many of them. As he did with most things, he had confided in Annabelle about it, and shared his concerns with her. It bothered him considerably that certain important clients of her late father’s bank were sending matériel and funds to Germany, due to ties those clients had there. It didn’t sit well with him to play both sides of the fence, but he had to fulfill their clients’ requests.

It was an open secret that transactions of that nature were happening, and in order to stop the influx of supplies to Germany, Britain had begun mining the North Sea. In retaliation, the Germans were threatening to sink any ship belonging to Britain or her allies. And German U-boats were patrolling the Atlantic from beneath the seas. It was surely not a good time to be crossing the Atlantic, but in spite of that, a steady stream of immigrants continued to appear on Ellis Island, determined to find a new life in the States.

The people Annabelle was seeing there were sicker and in worse shape than she had seen in years. In many cases, they had left dire conditions in their home countries and kissed the ground when they disembarked in the States. They were grateful for every kindness offered and everything she did. She had tried to explain that to her mother, to no avail, about how desperately she and others were needed, to assist the immigrants when they arrived. Her mother remained staunchly convinced that she was risking her life every time she went, and she wasn’t completely wrong, although Annabelle didn’t admit it to her. Only Josiah seemed to understand and be supportive of her work. She had bought a number of new medical books, and studied them now every night before she went to bed. It kept her occupied when Josiah was busy, had to work late, or went out with his men friends to events at clubs that didn’t welcome women. She never minded when he went out without her. She said it gave her more time to read and study late into the night.

By then, she had seen several operations performed, and had read conscientiously everything she could lay her hands on about the contagious diseases that plagued the people she ministered to. Many of the immigrants died, particularly the older ones, after rigorous trips, or from the illnesses they were carrying when they arrived. In many ways, Annabelle was considered, among the medical staff there, as a kind of untrained, unofficial nurse, who often proved to be as competent as they, or more so. She had great insight, and an even greater talent for diagnosing her patients, sometimes in time to make a difference and save their lives. Josiah often said she was a saint, which Annabelle brushed off as generous but undeserved praise. She continued to work harder than ever, and often her mother thought that she was trying to fill the void in her life that a baby would have filled. She mourned the continued absence of children for her, even more than Annabelle seemed to herself. She never mentioned having children to her mother.

Henry joined them at her mother’s for Christmas again that year. The four of them shared a quiet dinner on Christmas Eve. It was their third Christmas without Arthur and Robert, and on the holidays their absence was sorely felt. Annabelle hated to admit it, but she could see that so much of the life and spirit of her mother had gone out of her after her husband and son died. Consuelo was always grateful for the time they spent with her, and interested in what was happening in the world, but it was as though after the terrible tragedy on the Titanic more than two years before, she no longer cared what happened to her. Henry seemed to be the only one who could still make her laugh. For Consuelo, the double loss had just been too hard. She only wanted to live long enough now to see Annabelle with children of her own. She was growing more and more worried that something was wrong and that her daughter was unable to get pregnant. But the bond between her and Josiah continued to seem strong.

And as always, even on Christmas Eve, their conversation turned to the war by the end of the meal. None of the news was good. It was hard not to believe that, at some point, out of sympathy if nothing else, America would get into the war and that many young American lives would be lost. President Wilson was staunchly insisting that they would not get involved, although Josiah had begun to doubt it.

Two days after Christmas, Annabelle stopped in to see her mother for a visit, and was surprised when the butler told her that she was upstairs in bed. Annabelle found her shivering under the covers, looking pale, with two bright red spots on her cheeks. Blanche had just brought her a cup of tea, which she had refused. She looked very ill, and when Annabelle touched her forehead with a practiced hand, she could tell that she had a raging fever.

“What happened?” Annabelle asked, looking concerned. It was obviously influenza, and hopefully nothing worse. It was precisely what her mother always feared for her. But Annabelle was young and her resistance to illness was good. Particularly in the last two years, Consuelo had become more frail. Her ongoing sadness over her losses had diminished both her youth and her strength. “How long have you been sick?” Annabelle had seen her only two days before and had no idea she was unwell. Consuelo had warned Blanche not to worry her daughter, and said that she’d be fine in a few days.

“Just since yesterday,” her mother said, smiling at her. “It’s nothing. I think I caught a chill in the garden on Christmas Day.” This looked like a lot more than a chill to Annabelle, and Blanche was worried too.

“Have you seen the doctor?” Annabelle asked, frowning as her mother shook her head. “I think you should.” As she said it, her mother began coughing, and Annabelle saw that her eyes were glazed.

“I didn’t want to bother him right after Christmas. He has more important things to do.”

“Don’t be silly, Mama,” Annabelle chided her gently. She left the room quietly, and went to call him. She was back at her mother’s bedside a few minutes later, with a bright smile that was more assured than she felt. “He said he’d come over in a little while.” Her mother didn’t argue with her about seeing the doctor, which was unusual too. Annabelle realized that she had to be feeling very ill. And unlike with the people she nursed so capably on Ellis Island, she felt helpless at her mother’s bedside, and somewhat panicked. She couldn’t ever remember seeing her mother so sick. And she had heard nothing about an influenza epidemic. The doctor confirmed that to her when he arrived.

“I have no idea how she got this,” he said in consternation. “I’ve seen a few patients with it over the holidays, but mostly older people, who are more frail. Your mother is still young and in good health,” he reassured Annabelle. He felt sure that Consuelo would feel better in a few days. And he left some laudanum drops to help her sleep better, and aspirin for her fever.

But by six o’clock her mother was so much worse that Annabelle decided to spend the night. She called Josiah to let him know, and he was very sympathetic and asked if there was anything he could do to help her. She assured him there wasn’t and went back to her mother, who had been listening to the call.

“Are you happy with him?” Consuelo asked her daughter faintly, which Annabelle thought was an odd question.

“Of course I am, Mama.” Annabelle smiled at her, and sat down on a chair next to the bed and reached for her mother’s hand. She sat there holding it, just as she had when she was a child. “I love him very much,” Annabelle confirmed. “He’s a wonderful man.”

“I’m so sorry you haven’t had a baby. Has nothing happened yet?” Annabelle shook her head with a serious expression and gave her their official line.

“We have time.” Her mother only hoped that she wasn’t one of those women who was never able to have a child. She thought it would be a tragedy if they never had children, and so did Annabelle, although she wouldn’t admit it to her mother. “Let’s just get you well,” she said, to distract her. Consuelo nodded, and a little while later she drifted off to sleep, looking like a child herself, as Annabelle sat next to her and watched her. Her mother’s fever rose over the next hours, and by midnight Annabelle was bathing her forehead with cool cloths, as Blanche prepared them. They had far more comforts at their disposal than she did when she worked on Ellis Island, but nothing helped. She spent the night awake at her mother’s bedside, hoping the fever would break by morning, but it didn’t.

The doctor came to see her morning and afternoon for the next three days, as Consuelo continued to get steadily worse. It was the worst case of influenza the doctor had seen in a long time, and far worse than the one Annabelle had had three years before, when she missed the fateful trip on the Titanic.

Josiah came to sit with his mother-in-law one afternoon, so that Annabelle could get a few hours’ sleep in her old bedroom. He had left the bank to do so, and was surprised when Consuelo woke and looked at him with clear bright eyes. She seemed far more alert than she had the day before, and he hoped she was getting better. He knew how desperately worried his wife was about her mother, with good reason. She was very, very sick, and people had died of influenza before, although there was no reason why she should with such good care. Annabelle hadn’t left her side for a moment, except to sleep for half an hour here and there, when Blanche or Josiah sat with her mother. Consuelo hadn’t been left alone for an instant. And the doctor came twice a day.

“Annabelle loves you very much,” Consuelo said softly from where she lay, smiling at him. She was very weak and deathly pale.

“I love her very much too,” Josiah assured her. “She’s a remarkable woman, and a wonderful wife.” Consuelo nodded, and looked pleased to hear it from him. More often than not, she thought he treated her like a younger sister or a child, and not a wife or a grown woman. Perhaps it was just his way, since she was so much younger than he was. “You have to rest and get better,” he encouraged his mother-in-law, and she looked away, as though she knew it wouldn’t make any difference, and then she looked directly at him again with an intense gaze.

“If anything happens to me, Josiah, I want you to take good care of her. You’re all she has. And I hope that you’ll have children one day.”

“So do I,” he said softly. “She’d be a perfect mother. But you mustn’t speak that way, you’ll be fine.” Consuelo didn’t look as sure, and it was obvious to him that she thought she was dying, or perhaps she was just afraid.

“Take good care of her,” she said again, and then her eyes closed and she went back to sleep. She didn’t stir until Annabelle came back into the room an hour later, and checked her fever. Much to her dismay, it was higher, and she signaled that to Josiah as her mother opened her eyes.

“Feeling better?” Annabelle asked with a bright smile, as Consuelo shook her head, and her daughter had the frightening feeling that she was giving up the fight. And so far, nothing they had done for her had helped.

Josiah went back to the apartment then, and told Annabelle to call for him in the night, if there was anything she wanted him to do. Annabelle promised she would, and as he left the Worthington house, he was haunted by what Consuelo had said. He had every intention of taking care of Annabelle. And the fact that he was all she had in the world, other than her mother, was not lost on him. In some ways, particularly if her mother died, it was a heavy burden for him.

On New Year’s Eve the doctor told them that Consuelo had pneumonia. It was what he had feared would happen from the first. She was a healthy woman, and not of a great age, but pneumonia was a dangerous illness, and he had the feeling that Consuelo was far too willing to let go of life, and they all knew why. She seemed to be slipping away before their eyes, and they couldn’t win this fight alone. They needed her help, and even with it, a happy outcome was not sure. Annabelle was looking terrified as she sat at her bedside. The only time she seemed to perk up was when her mother was awake, and she was trying to coax her to eat and drink, and assuring her that she would be fine soon. Consuelo didn’t comment, was barely eating enough to sustain herself, and was being devoured by the fever. She wasted away day by day, while the fever refused to abate. Blanche looked as devastated as Annabelle as she ran trays up to the sickroom, and the cook tried to concoct meals that Consuelo would eat. The situation was frightening for them all.

And on the sixth of January, Consuelo quietly gave up the fight. She went to sleep in the early evening, after a long, difficult day. She was holding Annabelle’s hand, and they had talked for a little while that afternoon. Consuelo had smiled at her before she went to sleep and told Annabelle she loved her. Annabelle had been dozing in the chair next to her at eight o’clock that night, when she suddenly sensed something different and woke up with a start. She looked at the smooth expression on her mother’s face and instantly saw that she wasn’t breathing, as Annabelle gasped. For the first time in two weeks, her mother’s face was cool, unnaturally so. The fever had left her, and taken Consuelo’s life. Annabelle tried to shake her awake, and saw that it was useless. She knelt at her mother’s bedside, holding her lifeless form in her arms, and sobbed. It was the final goodbye she had never been able to say to her father or brother, and she was inconsolable as she cried.

Blanche found her there a little while later, and started to cry herself. She gently stroked Consuelo’s hair, and then led Annabelle away, and sent Thomas to get Josiah. He was at the house moments later, and did all he could to comfort his wife. He knew all too well how great the loss would be to her, and how much she had loved her mother.

The doctor came that night to sign the death certificate, and in the morning the mortician came to prepare her. They laid Consuelo in state in the ballroom with flowers everywhere, as Annabelle stood by, looking devastated, with Josiah holding her hand.

Friends came to visit all the next day, after seeing the shocking announcement in the paper that Consuelo Worthington had died. Their home was plunged into deep mourning yet again, so soon after their double loss nearly three years before. Annabelle realized that she was an orphan now, and as her mother had said to him, Josiah was all she had in the world. She clung to him through the next days like a drowning person, and at her mother’s funeral at St. Thomas Episcopal Church. His arm was ever around her shoulders, and he was true to his word. Josiah never left her side, and even slept with her in her narrow bed in her childhood room in her parents’ house. She didn’t want to go back to their apartment, and insisted on staying at her house with him. She talked about their moving into the house, which was stately to be sure, but he felt it would be grim, and too hard for her. But for now he let her do as she wished. It was a nearly intolerable loss for Annabelle. Henry was often with them, and was a great comfort to her too. He came to visit frequently and he and Josiah talked quietly in the library late at night or played cards, while Annabelle lay upstairs on her bed, in a state of shock and grief.

It was a full month before she left the house. She had touched nothing in her mother’s bedroom. All Consuelo’s clothes were still there. Josiah was handling the estate at the bank. Her parents’ entire fortune was hers now, including the portion that would have gone to Robert. She was a very rich woman, but it was of no consolation to her. She didn’t care. And although it pained him to do so, in March, Josiah had to relay to her an offer to buy the house, from a family that knew hers. Annabelle was horrified and didn’t want to hear it, but Josiah told her gently that he didn’t think she’d ever be happy there. She had lost all the people she had loved in that house, and the house was filled with ghosts for her. And the offer was a good one, probably better than any they’d get if she decided later to sell it. He knew it would be painful for her to do, but he thought she should.

“But where will we live?” she asked with a look of anguish. “Your apartment will be too small for us once we have a family, and I don’t want another house.” She was strongly inclined to decline the offer, but she also knew the truth of what he said. She and Josiah still needed a house, but had done nothing about it since Josiah wasn’t ready to have children, and all she would ever see in that house were the visions of her parents and brother, all gone now. Even if they filled it with children, it would never fully balance the sadness she felt there, and the memories of those she’d lost.

She talked about it with Hortie, who was pregnant with her third child and sick again. She complained that James had turned her into a baby factory, but her own problems seemed minimal now compared to Annabelle’s, and she tried to advise her as sensibly as she could. She thought Josiah was right, and that he and Annabelle should sell the Worthington mansion, and buy a new house for themselves, that had no bad memories for her, or sad ones.

It broke Annabelle’s heart to do it, but within two weeks she agreed. She couldn’t even imagine giving up the house where she had been so happy as a child, but now it was filled with loss and grief. Josiah promised to handle everything for her, and assured her that they would find a new one, or even build one, which would be a happy project for them. And whatever issues they had between them had gone unaddressed during her period of mourning. She was no longer worried about the family they hadn’t started yet. She was in no mood to think of anything but her grief.

She spent all of April packing up the house, and sending everything to storage. And whatever was of no interest or value to her went to auction to be sold. The servants, Josiah, and Henry were tireless in their efforts to help her, and she spent hours crying every day. She hadn’t been to Ellis Island since her mother’s death. She missed it terribly but was too busy now closing her parents’ house. The last of it went to storage in May, the anniversary of the day she and Josiah had gotten engaged two years before. She was relinquishing the house in June, and going to stay at the cottage in Newport, which she insisted she would keep. She and Josiah were going to spend the summer there.

Six days after she closed the house in New York, the Germans sank the Lusitania, killing 1,198 people, in a terrible tragedy at sea, which revived all her memories of the Titanic, and once again rocked the world and yet another of her mother’s cousins died, Alfred Gwynne Vanderbilt, who stayed back to help others into lifeboats as her father and brother had on the Titanic. And like them, Alfred lost his life, when the ship exploded and sank in less than twenty minutes. Two weeks later, Italy entered the war and joined the Allies. And there were terrible stories in the news of nerve gas being used at the front and untold damage to the men it affected. All of Europe was in a state of turmoil, which seemed to mirror the despair and anguish that Annabelle felt.

She spent the rest of May in Josiah’s apartment before she left for Newport in June. She took Blanche and those of her mother’s servants who still remained to Newport with her. At the end of the summer, most of them would be moving on to other jobs, and life as she had known it would be forever changed. Blanche and William the butler would be staying in Newport with a few of the others.

Josiah had promised to come to Newport in mid-June, he was planning to take a longer vacation than usual that year, as he knew that Annabelle needed him with her. She looked heartbroken when she left town. The city home she had loved so much was already in other hands.

Once in Newport, Annabelle spent some time with Hortie, who had come up early with her children, their nanny, and her mother. Although only six months pregnant, she was huge again, and Annabelle was too restless to spend much time with her. She had felt sad and anxious since her mother’s death, and it was hard being in Newport without her. In some ways, it felt to her like a replay of the summer after the Titanic, and she was relieved when Josiah arrived.

They would be staying at her mother’s house and not Josiah’s, and living in Annabelle’s girlhood room. They went on long quiet walks near the sea. He was almost as pensive and silent as she was, but she didn’t press him about it. He got that way sometimes, moody and even despondent. Neither of them was in great spirits. She asked him when Henry was coming up to see them, hoping it would cheer him, and he was vague about it and said he wasn’t sure.

Josiah had been there for nearly a week when he finally turned to her one night as they sat by the fire and said he had to talk to her. She smiled, wondering what he was about to say. Most of the time now they talked about the war. But this time he sighed deeply, and she saw that there were tears in his eyes when he turned toward her.

“Are you all right?” she asked, looking suddenly worried, and all he did was shake his head slowly, and her heart sank like a stone at his words.

“No, I’m not.”