“That is what I have been told,” I said.

“And you want me to provide this company with the capital needed to survive its most current crises?” asked my father.

“You must,” I said. “You simply must.”

“Three hundred and fifty thousand dollars is a substantial sum of money, daughter,” he said.

“Consider it,” I said, “my dowry.”

My father stared at me for a moment more and then dropped his head back to the figures in the ledgers before him. I didn’t know whether to stay or to flee, but this was too important to leave without an answer and so, despite my faltering heart, I waited, shivering, while he wrote in the ledgers. Finally he said, without an ounce of warmth, as if he were addressing an employee, “You may go.”

“Not without an answer,” I said, my voice trembling as I said it.

Without looking up from his ledgers, my father said, “I will make appropriate arrangements to provide the capital.”

Oh happy happy happy day! The fondest plans of my soul have been realized. I am in awe of the Lord’s grand designs, that something so base and awful, something derived by such means, can be used to purchase an unearthly paradise. Just as Jesus turned water to wine He has turned my father’s black wealth into a love so pure and a happiness so deep that it acts as praise itself for His beneficence. That my father made me beg and wait I shan’t hold against him; I understand him completely, we are of the same coin. But today is a day for happiness, for joy, for love. My Christian, my Christian, my Christian, forever, my love, we drink together from the cup of joy held in the very hand of grace.

March 29, 1912

I am puzzled by the reactions of my sisters to our glorious news. When father announced the engagement at dinner tonight I had worried that Hope would be distraught. I feared her reaction upon learning that her sister, two years younger than she, was to be married while she was still without a suitor, but Hope seemed genuinely pleased at my good fortune. I have forgiven her the earlier remarks about Christian, they were of course figments of a natural jealousy, and take her wishes for my future to be of the utmost sincerity. It is Charity whose face turned dark when she heard the announcement and unaccountably bolted from the room.

It was a rather gay dinner before that moment; I haven’t spent a less than gay moment since Christian’s arrival on the train from New Haven and his proposal. The last of the Shaw Brothers, after whom the store is named, Christian’s Uncle Sullivan, was at the dinner, as were Christians’ four cousins, with all assorted wives and children, a regular convocation of Shaws. It was a group that I don’t believe would have deigned to enter our house just a few years before, but all that now has changed. The dinner had been called to celebrate the resurrection of the fortunes of the Shaw Brothers Company, of which my father is to be a majority partner, once the lawyers finish the appropriate paperwork. A fire was burning in the blue and white marble fireplace and the squab was a crisp delight. Father brought his best wine from the cellar and there were generally good feelings all around at the new arrangement. I must say that Uncle Sullivan is more dour a man than I had been led to believe, though Christian attributed his mood to weariness at dealing with the difficulties that preceded this proud new venture. It is beyond my understanding how he could think my father is anything other than a saint for agreeing to provide the needed money and sign onto all their shaky notes in order to save the company, but the world of business, I have been taught, is by necessity rather cruel and ungrateful. It was during a speech toasting the new partnership that father announced our engagement. There were a few exclamations of joy and then general applause and I felt the admiration flow about me like the waters of a joyous bath. And then it was that Charity fled the room.

Hope started to run after her but Christian, being the most generous of souls, volunteered to set things right, and himself followed her out to the portico. A few moments later he returned and sat down and straightened his napkin on his lap as if nothing had happened. I gave him a questioning look but he gestured me to remain calm and soon Charity herself reappeared. I don’t know what dilemma caused her alarm but Christian was able to solve it as I believe he will be able to solve all the problems that can hereafter arise in our family. A new era for the Reddmans, an era of light and fellowship, has been embarked upon and I am not being too immodest when I say I feel myself at its very center.

April 12, 1912

Our list keeps growing, as if it had a life of its own, and Mother continues to meet with the cook to ensure that the wedding dinner will be of the highest quality. Christian has been so busy preparing that he is almost a stranger at the house, but a future of infinite togetherness beckons. There are barely two months till the wedding and so much remains to be decided upon, flowers and invitations and table settings. I have not yet chosen my dress. So much still to be decided upon my head spins.

I already sense the change in attitudes to our family since my engagement was publicly announced. Even Naomi Scott, that pale cat, called on me the other day to say how excited she was about my coming nuptials. The Shaws have always been one of the most highly thought of families in the city and so, it appears, my marriage to Christian will break down the final barriers to our acceptance. Father has even been asked to join the board of the Art Museum, which pleases Mother immensely. It is as if the stain of our past has been removed entirely. I would breathe a little more easily if Father’s business arrangement with the Shaws was fully executed, but the lawyers continue to bicker and I am told that Christian’s Uncle Sullivan is making things difficult. Closing on the deal will have to take place sometime after the wedding, but Father has already paid money to the banks and they have developed a new patience, so Christian says. I believe Father is looking forward to running the store. It is so much more elegant than his briny-smelling pickle and canning factory on the river.

It is good to see Charity so happy these days. While I can’t say she has been warm to me as of late, I believe she is truly excited about the wedding. Much of her time is spent away from the house, so we have no idea what her newest interests are, she has always a keen interest in some subject or the other, but whatever it be it gives her a true joy. She won’t confess anything to me, but I believe she has a beau. She has filled out beautifully in the past few months and carries with her everywhere a smile that can denote only a woman who has found her place in the world through love. Just today she was wearing a gold ring with her initials. When I asked her where she had purchased it she blushed wildly and refused to say. I only hope she can find for herself someone as loving, as faithful, as generous with his spirit as my dear Christian.

May 23, 1912