19th Century Seamstress

Part-time job

The Morrisons owned a three-story villa with curved balconies just two streets away from the hotel. Mrs. Morrison woke up at seven each morning, arriving at the staff quarters of the Ritz by half-past seven, where she rang a bell that echoed through the hallway.

Soon, a crowd of female employees, all dressed and ready, gathered silently by the lockers. Despite the crowd, not a single sound was made in her presence—it was eerily quiet. Latecomers had their wages docked, with Mr. Woosht from the front desk already reporting attendance to Mrs. Morrison.

Eloise stood at the back with Laura, lowering her head while sneaking glances at Mrs. Morrison, who wore a typical Basle two-piece dress. She wasn't that old, with an oval face and a hooked nose, her powder making her face almost ghostly white. Dressed elegantly in a sapphire-blue coat with lace and flounce and a dark-striped overskirt, she looked strict yet stately, her side profile resembling a plump teardrop.

Raising her voice, Mrs. Morrison began, "Yesterday, an employee was caught using the guest elevator, even seen by a guest on the fifth floor. We haven’t identified who yet, but this cannot happen again. All staff must use the service stairs. If I catch this happening, the entire department will face pay cuts. I expect everyone to monitor each other."

She continued with some announcements. “Due to the cold temperatures in New York, Mr. Pengoli has approved a weekly half-dollar wage increase for the laundry staff from December to January, effective with today’s paycheck."

Finishing her announcements, she reminded the room-cleaning staff, "…Today, a guest will be staying in the VIP suite. Once cleaned, notify me for inspection, and ensure the flowers and fruit are fresh. Also, no one is allowed to wander around the seventh floor."

Eloise then returned to Storage Room 11, carrying a green, 20-gallon iron bucket filled with fireplace ash and cleaning tools. Nineteen rooms on the fifth and sixth floors needed tending, and as was customary, the higher the floor, the more luxurious the rooms and the pricier the rates.

Upon reaching the fifth floor, Eloise, already sweating, rested briefly before pulling the bells outside each occupied room. The bell system, ingeniously designed, allowed guests to signal the front desk in emergencies by ringing it. She smiled politely when one guest, a fussy young man, requested, "I don’t want flames or coal smoke, but I want glowing red embers." After he retreated, she casually tossed a few coals into the fireplace.

The rest of the morning passed in back-and-forth labor, with Eloise descending to empty her bucket every time it filled with ash. By 11:15, she had finally finished her rounds. With forty-five minutes until the end of her shift, she returned her tools to storage just as Laura and Ryan completed their own tasks, chatting cheerfully.

Laura invited Eloise to accompany them to the accounting room to receive their half-day wages. The shy young assistant, Mason, handed out pay envelopes from his boss’s absence, and Laura eagerly shared her gossip with him about the high-society guests staying in the VIP suite—two brothers, one named Benjamin, reputedly a person of significance.

After collecting her pay and excusing herself, Eloise made her way back to storage, eager to count her meager earnings of three dollars. She pocketed the money, planning to exchange some for smaller change at a grocery store. For half-day workers like herself, no lunch was provided, likely a cost-saving decision.

Finally free for the rest of the day, Eloise walked toward 33rd Street. The midday sun had softened some of the snow, dampening her shoes and wool socks. She strolled past stores, peeking into windows with curiosity. The sight of a gentleman enjoying a hearty meal in one eatery made her stomach growl, and she quickened her pace to enter a small grocery store.

She bought a spool of thread, some pins, and chalk, bargaining with the shopkeeper. Back home on 33rd Street, in a building where her family rented a modest unit, her younger siblings, Thomas and Bella, were already back from delivering newspapers. Thomas, silent and mature beyond his years, handed over part of his earnings to Eloise and shared a rare half-dollar tip he’d earned for helping a young lady with her luggage.

Thanking him, Eloise encouraged him to keep the tip, assuring him he’d earned it fairly. She rekindled the fire, which was dwindling, and placed a few potatoes in to bake for their lunch. In their modest kitchen, she retrieved water from a shared bathroom faucet downstairs, warmed the room, and prepared their simple meal.

As they ate, Bella asked if they could visit the circus that afternoon, but Eloise, now preoccupied with a new idea, told her, “I have things to do. Why don’t you ask Thomas?” Distracted, she rummaged through an old trunk and pulled out some scraps of yellow cotton cloth—a childhood garment she planned to refashion into gloves.

By evening, her aunt and cousin Louise returned from their shift at the Ritz. Louise, exhausted, laid out her frustrations with the meticulous demands of Mrs. Morrison and the VIP guests. Eloise listened quietly, still focused on her glove project.