Chapter 45 – The Dreamy Young Lady
Miss Clara was the daughter of a genteel family who had attended a girl’s day school before her father passed away in a carriage accident. The education she received had been meant to guide her into becoming a proper lady – a radiant of the house who would please her husband and care for her children.
In other words, she had learned very little about how to survive once her family collapsed after her father’s sudden death.
She had no brothers to inherit the heritage. A distant male cousin took possession of the house and wasted little time sending them away. Miss Clara and her mother left their home with few belongings, their future dark and uncertain, with no clear idea of how they would continue living.
Fortunately, they still had a few connections. Through them, they exchanged letters with Mother Annie, and under Mother Annie’s suggestion, then came to this very domus to seek refuge after their savings began to run out.
The situation had clearly struck Mrs. Whitcombe very hard.
“My Mama… she misses Papa very much,” Miss Clara whispered to Jade. She sat beside Jade, watching closely as Jade worked on the unfamiliar embroidery technique. The sorrow in her voice was unmistakable. “I miss Papa too.”
“Well, life goes on,” Jade replied quietly. “You still have to feed yourself and take care of Mrs. Whitcombe. Have you thought about how you’ll deal with your situation, apart from showing the girls here some needlework?”
“Mother Annie mentioned that we might make needlecrafts in exchange for our living,” Miss Clara replied. A blush coloured her cheeks. Jade did not think it was shyness. It looked more like embarrassment…
Oh… right. Proper ladies here weren’t supposed to do trading stuff. Jade mused.
Jade never considered herself a proper lady. Between starving to death while preserving the appearance of a lady, and earning a few coins while looking nothing like one, she would choose the second option without hesitation. But people here would likely choose the first – to preserve their dignity, their honour, or whatever name they gave it.
Jade shrugged. “The needlecrafts are delivered in bulk. We’ll mark the pieces so we know who made them, but people outside the domus won’t know who embroidered the patterns. All they’ll know is that the girls from our ragged school have learned something delicate and useful.”
Jade noticed Miss Clara quietly released a relieved breath.
Later that day, when Miss Clara remained behind the classroom, she presented Jade an embroidered handkerchief – proof that she had once been trained as a proper young lady before her schooling came to an abrupt end.
Jade was delighted. With Miss Clara’s help, she was now one step closer to her plan of creating a large decorative screen – one that might sell for as much as £50 if marketed properly.
“A decorative screen worth £50?!” Mrs. Whitcombe and Miss Clara exclaimed.
“Calm down, ladies.” Jade gestured for them to relax. “That’s just the best-case scenario. We still need to overcome quite a few obstacles before we can create something worth that much.”
Mrs. Whitcombe furrowed her brows. “Although I doubt we could achieve what you imagine, Miss Jade, surely you would not make such a bold claim without some foundation?”
Jade nodded. “That’s because we won’t be using the usual technique. Miss Clara, you’ve already seen it in the classroom. Now imagine an entire decorative screen made using that method.”
Miss Clara pressed her lips together. The technique she had seen on the embroidery frame was remarkable. The colour transition and the details were unlike anything she had encountered before.
If such work could fill an entire screen…
“Clara, dear,” Mrs. Whitcombe asked gently, “does the technique match what you are imagining?”
She had spent most of the day weeping in her room and had been too exhausted to leave, so she had not seen the small piece of embroidery Jade had finally produced after weeks of trial and error.
Miss Clara thought for a moment before asking, “Miss Jade, what kind of obstacles do you expect?”
“It’s a group work, Miss Clara,” Jade explained. “If one person tried to complete it alone, it would take years. We’ll need all the girls in our school who are skilled with needlework to work together. Training them to master the technique will take time, and learning to work in harmony will take even longer.”
Miss Clara recalled the needlework she had seen in the classroom. The girls certainly still needed training before they could participate in such delicate work.
“Also,” Jade continued, “if Mrs. Whitcombe and Miss Clara would like to take part in creating this decorative screen, then I would gladly step aside and let Miss Clara lead the girls.”
Both mother and daughter looked slightly startled.
“But Miss Jade,” Miss Clara protested at once, “you’re their teacher. You should be leading them!”
“I should, but I don’t have the luxury,” Jade explained. “I need to oversee the bakehouse. I have to refine the recipes and decide what to bake based on the ingredients we have each day. It improves the food for our students, and after winter, it will become our main source of income, so it must continue running smoothly.”
“I also need to maintain good communication with the shopkeepers. Up until now, I still haven’t had the chance to meet the stationer and the dressmaker in person. I need to discuss their requirement for greeting cards and artificial flowers with them. Although I trust my apprentice has done a fine job connecting us, I would still like to meet them myself.”
Mrs. Whitcombe and Miss Clara listened quietly. They had never heard anyone explain the process of earning money in such detail before. In respectable households, women were expected to remain indoors and manage domestic affairs, while the responsibility of earning income belonged to men.
“I’m not particularly skilled at needlework,” Jade added frankly. “If Miss Clara studies the technique and leads the girls, I believe the work will progress much faster than if I were in charge.”
She shrugged, her body language admitting that she was beginning to grow bored of poking needles into fabric. “Therefore, with Mrs. Whitcombe’s assistance, I believe Miss Clara would make an excellent guide for the girls in creating a magnificent decorative screen.”
Miss Clara clutched her fists. She could feel her heart pounded nervously as she wondered whether she could truly live up to Miss Jade’s trust.
Then, she heard Miss Jade say to her mother, “Mrs. Whitcombe, the screen might sell for £50 at best, but I expect at least £30. If Miss Clara could lead the girls to accomplish such a piece, it would be a remarkable achievement – something very few ragged school girls could ever claim.”
“Wouldn’t that be a fine way to demonstrate Miss Clara’s virtues and character to potential candidates?”
Miss Clara could feel her cheeks burn as Miss Jade spoke. Her thoughts drifted toward the vague silhouette of a man who might one day become her husband… Surely there must be someone who would value her needlework, someone willing to offer her a home for the rest of her life?
“Of course,” Jade continued, unaware of the romantic daydreams forming in the young lady’s mind, “Miss Clara would also need to learn how to manage the students. If possible, I would like her to substitute for me during the tuition class whenever I must leave to meet the shopkeepers.”
She turned to them with a calm smile. “What do you say, Miss Clara? Would you be willing to accept this role?”
“And Mrs. Whitcombe, would you assist Miss Clara in guiding the girls? I believe the experience you have gained through years of managing a household would be very valuable to them. Some of our girls will eventually enter service. Your advice could benefit them greatly, Mrs. Whitcombe.”
The mother and daughter exchanged a glance.
After a while of persuasion, Jade finally achieved her goal and left their room with a satisfied smile: Finally! Soon! No more needles and threads for me!
Of course, things did not go as smoothly as Jade had imagined.
The students took quite some time to grasp the Chinese embroidery technique. Miss Clara was far too shy to speak confidently to the bright-eyed girls eager to learn from her. And Mrs. Whitcombe turned out to be the sort of stereotypical sentimental lady who would burst into tears whenever snow drifted down or sky darkened, simply because it reminded her of her late husband... She even owned a small bottle for collecting the tears she shed in his memory!
Jade suspected that her own expression had become somewhat twisted when she first learned about the fashionable trend of widows collecting tears to commemorate their husbands. Since then, Miss Clara had repeatedly told dramatic stories about the deep romance between her parents, and about how her mother’s sorrow justified the tear-collecting.
“... Miss Clara, I would like to continue our discussion about the pattern for the decorative screen. Would roses work well?” Jade decided to ignore the tragic love story and focus on her job. She had just dismissed the tuition class and planned to burn the midnight oil drafting the design for the decorative screen before refining it with the girls.
However, Miss Clara seemed to have drifted into thoughts about her own future lover. “I wonder who will hold my hand in the future…” she murmured dreamily. “Mama said she will try to subscribe me to a ball. I hope it will be love at first sight, and we will be married the second day after we meet.”
“Huh?” Jade stared at her, eyes wide. “You’ve gotta be kidding me, gal. Love at first sight and getting married the next day?”
“What’s wrong with that, Miss Jade?” Miss Clara blinked her innocent doe-like eyes. “Isn’t that what love should be? Isn’t it romantic?”
I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Rich Sponsor. I owe you an apology, Jade thought dryly as she looked at the naive Snow White before her, who tilted her head, clearly had no idea what she was talking about. I shouldn’t have called you a noble-doe before. Compared to the true babe in the woods sitting in front of me, you shine like the North Star in the vast night sky.
“Miss Jade?”
“Nothing… I guess.” Jade exhaled slowly. She decided it would be wiser to keep her mouth shut. Miss Clara was not her student, and she was not Miss Clara’s mother. She had no obligation to lecture the young lady about the realities of marriage.
…Or maybe…
“Actually… maybe I should hold a special session for my students,” Jade said, glancing at the wondering doe, “about the love scams we often see reported in the news.”
“Love scams?” Miss Clara blinked again, clearly unable to grasp the meaning of the word “scam”.
Jade nodded decisively. “Yes. Love scams. And you are welcome to attend that session as well. Perhaps next week.”
“Would you like me to adjust the text for you?” Miss Clara offered politely. “Just like I did with your textbook?”
“... Nah, grammar is not important for that lesson.” Jade said, patting her shoulder. “Let’s focus on the design now, shall we?”
“Very well, Miss Jade…” Miss Clara had the vague feeling that the young teacher had wanted to say something more. The look in her eyes seemed to suggest it.
But the thought soon faded as she immersed herself in helping design the draft, and before long she had forgotten her doubts entirely.