19th Century Seamstress

Morning gowns

After lunch, Eloise put the remaining fish soup on the stove to keep it warm. She hung the leftover dried fish and sausages on the wall, washed the wooden bowls and spoons that Thomas and Bella had cleaned out, and tidied up the house, putting everything in its place. Thomas was off to see the coal shop owner, hoping to pay him for a recommendation letter, and then to quit his job at the newspaper stand.

By the time Aunt and Louise returned, Thomas was already packing his suitcase with essentials like a toothbrush, clothes, and a hat. The two women came back with rosy, wind-chilled faces and cheerful smiles, as if they had encountered something pleasant. Noticing Thomas packing his things, Louise asked him about it before he even had the chance to bring up his job search.

“I found a new job at the Rayson law firm, doing odd jobs,” Thomas replied.

Aunt’s smile faded as she closed the door and looked at him with a worried frown. “This isn’t one of those dangerous jobs, like cleaning chimneys, is it? What are the wages? It’s not some sort of scam, is it?”

Thomas handed Aunt some water and asked her to sit and rest before explaining slowly that the law firm was the one where he’d been delivering papers for a month, so he’d already checked it out.

Meanwhile, Louise pulled Eloise aside and whispered, “Today, I snuck that shirt into the basket for delivery upstairs. No one noticed anything unusual about it, so it’s likely the guest in the suite won’t notice either.”

Eloise nodded, taking out the cleaned and newly-lined bonnet hat she had been working on and handed it to Louise.

“Here, I made sure to finish this up, even added a lining to the scarf. Tomorrow, we won’t have to suffer in the cold.”

Louise, delighted, immediately tried on the bonnet. Although plain on the outside, it was comfortable to wear—no itching or cold drafts. She’d trimmed the edges with inexpensive velvet fabric, making it look brand new.

“You’re becoming a real seamstress! Your skills improve every day. At this rate, in half a month, you’ll be able to make morning suits for the gentry!”

Louise’s praise was a bit exaggerated, as Eloise had never formally studied the styles of the period’s formal wear. Making small items and doing mending were within her abilities, but true tailoring required much more learning.

That evening, the fish soup was still warm, and Aunt cooked pasta with sausages. After dinner, Eloise carried a pot of hot water downstairs to wash up. Once she’d washed, she lay down, talking with Aunt and Louise about saving money to send Bella to school.

“Bella is still so young, she really shouldn’t be out and about all day. If our family was a bit better off, we should send her to school so she can learn to read.”

“That’s true, but we’re not well off right now. I’d hate to send her to one of those schools where they barely feed the children,” Aunt replied, gently stroking Bella’s cheek.

Bella, who had snuggled up next to her sister and was about to fall asleep, immediately opened her eyes at the mention of going to school.

There were schools in New York specifically for children from poor families, both public and private, as well as religious schools and girls' schools. However, the term "school" was generous. Most simply offered literacy classes, teaching kids how to read and spell, with each school having its own fees.

Bella frowned, remembering her brief time at school, where she was always restless, yet the teacher made her sit properly in a chair. Eloise knew that Bella’s dislike for school stemmed from her experiences there.

“I plan to find a girls’ school for Bella myself, one with a kind teacher and close to home, ideally a half-day program. It might be more expensive, but I could just take on a few more jobs…”

The next morning, Eloise headed to work at the hotel, and Thomas, after saying goodbye to the family, left with his suitcase for his new job at the law firm. The fine, citrus-scented soap bubbles felt familiar to Eloise, reminding her of a certain dish soap from her previous life. However, in this era, it was considered high quality.

Eloise had washed her hair the night before, dried it by the stove before bed, and now had it braided. She put on her straw bonnet and knitted scarf and stepped out. The sky was filled with falling snow, but with her warm clothing, she didn’t feel the cold—though her feet were still a bit chilly.

Arriving at work early, Eloise picked up her list from the front desk. Soon, Amy joined her from the dorms, and after their morning meeting, another coworker who was assigned to clean fireplaces showed up, explaining that she’d been delayed by the snow but was let off by the doorman without having her name recorded.

This coworker, named Nasha, lived several streets away. Both of her parents worked in a textile factory, and they often took her earnings. So in the bitter cold of winter, Nasha wore only cloth shoes, without a hat, scarf, or gloves. Eloise, feeling sorry for her, offered to let her work on the easier floors.

But Nasha shook her head. “I’m afraid to go there. You should go instead; I might mess up and get caught by Mrs. Morrison.”

“How about this? You handle the fifth and sixth floors, and when we’re done, we’ll come help you.”

Amy pulled Eloise aside and whispered, “I once saw Nasha spend hours in a businessman’s room on the sixth floor. Whenever Nasha’s working, he spends a long time there too. But I also heard from someone in accounting that he’s staying here on credit.”

Amy, fearing that Eloise would do something “noble” and try to warn Nasha, added, “People staying on credit are common enough now. Nasha’s family isn’t kind to her; it wouldn’t be so bad if she could get something useful out of him.”

Eloise pondered this. Could this businessman on credit be the same conman her predecessor had encountered? Perhaps the butterfly effect of the switch in souls had led him to target Nasha instead?

With these thoughts in mind, Eloise arrived at the “Opal” suite on the seventh floor. Outside the door, two attendants stood by, and after greeting them, she went in with her cleaning bucket.

After sweeping the fireplace and fetching more coal to stoke it, she accidentally spotted a figure in the dressing room. A gentleman stood there, clad in a complete morning suit, with only half of his shoulder visible from behind the door.

Eloise’s attention was immediately drawn to the suit. The sharp tailoring, wide shoulder line, and narrow, crisp waistline with a notch lapel and single button closure—all these details spoke of a masterful English tailor’s work. Comparing it with local New York tailors’ work, it was clearly superior. Only an old master from England could produce such exquisite craftsmanship.

Of course, the man’s physique was equally remarkable. Eloise caught herself admiring his figure, momentarily lost in thought, and quickly looked away, feeling somewhat improper.

Winston, adjusting his tie in the mirror, felt an intense gaze on him. But when he turned around, he saw only a modest-looking cleaning woman by the fireplace, intent on stoking the fire.

Eloise finished with the fire and was about to leave when the gentleman called out to her.

“Is there something you need, sir?”

She had to look up slightly to meet the eyes of this tall, quintessentially European-looking young man.

“Please, throw this away.”

In his hand was a plain shirt that looked remarkably familiar to Eloise.