19th Century Seamstress

chapter 16

This morning, Laura somehow found out that Eloise was doing some seamstress work on the side. Jealous, yet with no real way to stop her, she simply assigned Eloise extra cleaning tasks on the fifth and sixth floors and asked her to scrub the dusty bins in the storage room. When Mrs. Morrison came by for her routine inspection and praised the clean dusting, Laura was quick to claim credit for the job. Eloise, however, knew better and kept silent.

With New York’s economy tightening further, jobs outside were scarce, but Eloise wasn’t too worried. She had her sewing skills and knew she’d leave this position eventually. With relationships as strained as they were, she didn’t see much point in fussing over her job for a mere three-dollar weekly wage. Her plan was simple: if the orders from the boutique remained steady for the next two weeks, she’d quit. Earning five or six dollars a week would be much better than putting up with the hotel job.

By noon, she finished her lunch of leftovers and, after working for another couple of hours, completed one corset. Taking a break, she pulled her money pouch from under the bed, along with the porcelain cup she intended to sell at the market. Not only would she get rid of the unnecessary item and convert it into cash, but she could also buy gifts for her family and Amy—something small and practical, as they would appreciate that more.

After locking her room, she made her way to the nearest secondhand shop through the fresh snow. It was a modest store but had a vast range of items, from pots and pans to bedding. Many newcomers to New York rented basic necessities from stores like this to get by their first nights. Eloise’s own family had rented bunk beds from this very store, which had been refurbished from old school furniture and only cost a few cents a month.

The saleswoman at the store, a sharp-eyed woman, eyed Eloise’s porcelain cup and, as part of standard procedure, asked where it was from and if it had been stolen. Knowing the family worked in a hotel, she accepted Eloise’s explanation that it was a holiday gift from a guest and gave her one dollar and ninety cents for it.

“This cup is genuine Tiffany porcelain. Are you sure you’re ready to part with it instead of using it yourself?” the saleswoman teased, noticing how quickly Eloise took the cash without any sentimental attachment to the item.

Smiling, Eloise brushed off the remark and left the shop. As much as she would have loved to keep the fancy cup, this was not the time for luxuries.

Turning left, she continued down a street crowded with young female factory workers. Eloise stepped aside to avoid the stream of women dressed in black, knowing that several factories were nearby and many poorer families lived in the surrounding area. Here, evening markets lined the street, taking up most of the road with stalls covered in oilcloths, brimming with goods.

Eloise bought a small engraved metal comb, a tin of white lamb’s fat ointment, a thumb-sized jar of malt syrup, and a black leather-bound journal. The fruit-flavored candies Amy had given her were coated in sugar; she found something similar in the market and, wanting to match the value, picked out a pack of dried meat strips as a thank-you gift for Amy.

Having spent nearly all the money from the porcelain cup, she bought herself a few colorful spools of thread before heading home to fetch Bella. She opened the malt syrup for Bella as a Christmas gift, watching the girl’s face light up with excitement.

“You can eat it,” Eloise said, lifting the jar teasingly, “but just a little every day, or your teeth will rot. Got it?”

Clinging to Eloise’s waist, Bella finally pried the jar from her hand and dug in with a small wooden spoon, savoring the syrup’s rich sweetness.

Before long, Eloise’s aunt and Louise returned and received their own presents. The two women had also been gifted cups and were planning to sell them for some extra cash. Aunt Tilly received the lamb’s fat ointment, and Louise got the comb. Both were delighted yet a bit curious.

“Usually, we exchange gifts on Christmas day, not earlier! What’s gotten into you this year, Eloise? I haven’t even started shopping yet,” Aunt Tilly remarked.

“Oh, I just had some extra money on hand and thought, why wait?” Eloise responded, somewhat defensive. She wasn’t familiar with the family’s tradition around this.

Grinning, Louise nudged her and asked, “What do you want for Christmas, then?”

“Well, if you’re asking… some colored thread would be perfect. I go through it quickly,” Eloise replied casually.

As the women chatted, Aunt Tilly opened the ointment tin. She was usually the one to wash the family’s clothes, and despite using hot water, her hands often became chapped and sore. Grateful, she tested the ointment, feeling comforted by Eloise’s thoughtfulness. Tilly noted how much Eloise had changed lately—she was more organized, less reserved, and seemed to manage everything with remarkable competence. She felt reassured about leaving the house-hunting to her.

At dinnertime, Eloise offered her salary to her aunt, but Tilly waved it off. “When we rented this place, we put down a week’s deposit. You girls keep your wages this week.”

Eloise, only now learning about the deposit, still insisted on contributing over a dollar for coal, and Louise did the same.

The next morning, a nearby clock tower struck seven, signaling the hour as Eloise got up to start her day, even though the sky was still completely dark. Not wanting to disturb the others, she hung her coat near the bed to block the light and worked by a dim lamp. By the time the sun rose, casting a faint blue light through the window, she had already finished several tasks and was cooking breakfast on the stove.

When Aunt Tilly and Louise awoke, they were taken aback to find Eloise bustling around, having already made a large pot of oatmeal and set out hot water for washing. Eloise was like a miniature Statue of Liberty, standing strong and determined.

Around eight, after having eaten breakfast, Eloise began working on another corset. She also mended a few items for their landlord and, by midday, brought them downstairs to the landlady, who rewarded her with two freshly baked pistachio scones. The landlady had recently hired a young French cook who specialized in baked goods, although Eloise had never met her.

With the scones and some leftover oatmeal for lunch, Eloise managed to get through the rest of her afternoon with great productivity. By day’s end, she had nearly completed two corsets, estimating she’d only need a few more hours to add the finishing touches. Thrilled with her progress, she indulged a little, pulling out two coins from her pouch to treat herself to a sausage at the market.