Chapter 5

"That was nice, what that lady said," Doris whispered to Nora.

They were standing along the wall with the other competition entrants, trying not to fidget and feeling very much on display

even though the crush of invited guests was ignoring them completely.

"I guess," Nora whispered back. "But what could a rich society lady possibly know about ‘this dreadful disease,' or care about it, for that matter?"

"Rich ladies are always doing good works."

"You mean, they get their husbands to send money."

"That doesn't sound like you, Nora. Their money gets things done. It supports this school. It will build your hospital."

"Sorry. You're right. I'm just nervous; it's making me cross. She was nice." And Nora had stood there like a half-wit instead

of thanking her. How would she ever attract clients if she couldn't talk to them? She was an embarrassment to the school.

Nora looked over the room, trying to find the woman who had spoken to her, but it was a sea of finery; she'd never been around

this many rich people in her life.

Men in black evening suits, women dressed in silks and lace, feathers and tiaras perched on their heads at various angles.

Nora had spent the first half hour mentally measuring the angles of feathers to heads and calculating how many hatpins it

took to prevent them from falling just to calm her nerves. She tried to see them as people. But they were like exotic beings

as far from Nora as they could possibly be.

And yet they supported her school. Cared about curing tuberculosis, if the woman was to be believed. People who might eventually hire her to design their homes.

The school's teachers moved among the guests, nodding and smiling, sometimes stopping to chat, as if it were a normal afternoon

instead of a life-changing night for two students at least. And a rite of passage for thirty-eight more. Nora thought maybe

she should have spent more time learning how to behave in society.

"Have you ever seen so much finery in your life?" Doris whispered in Nora's ear.

"Never."

"Do you think those are real diamonds and pearls?"

"Of course," said Lydia Rhodes, who stood at Nora's other side. "And the emeralds and rubies, they're all real."

"Like she would know," said Verity Klimpt from Doris's far side.

Lydia nudged Nora to the side to get a better look at the invited guests. "Look over there, I'm sure that's Alva Vanderbilt...

well, Alva Belmont now. She divorced... Oh, wait. Is that...? It is." She let out a little squeal; they immediately

shushed her. "That's Elsie de Wolfe."

"Where?" Verity asked, stretching on tiptoe.

"Over there in that smashing dark-blue-and-silver gown. She always wears the latest fashion. I'm sure it's a Worth."

"She looks like a starry night," said Doris on a sigh.

"Who is Elsie de Wolfe?" Nora asked, curiosity momentarily replacing her jitters.

All three girls looked at her in shock.

"How can you not know Elsie de Wolfe?" asked Lydia. "She's a famous actress."

Nora looked over the crowd. How could Lydia tell one sparkling guest from the next?

"Over there, standing with the lady who complimented you and the tall man with red hair."

As Nora caught sight of the lady's gown, the man walked away and joined Professor Gerhardt.

Suddenly there was a rustle through the crowd of guests and the professor presented the three judges. MissAlice Hands, a

graduate of the school and one of the few working female architects in the city; Mr.Lord, from the architectural firm of

Lord and Hewlett—Nora had sent her curriculum vitae to them—who sometimes lectured at the school; and the redheaded man.

Mr.Stanford White.

A ripple of surprise rolled through the line of students. Stanford White was the most sought-after architect in New York.

A word from him... And he was judging their work. Nora's knees began to quake.

The judges started at the far end of the wall, stopping before each entry, occasionally nodding or talking briefly among themselves

before moving on to the next.

Nora's thudding heart was just one of many. Not all of the girls who entered designs needed the prize money, but the awards

would be an added distinction to their letters of introduction. Nora needed the money as much as the honor. Fifty or twenty-five

dollars would change everything. She had already decided to give half of her winnings to her sister to help with the housing

and feeding of their mother and younger sister. The rest she would save toward an apartment for the three of them, if she

won.

She slowly crossed her fingers, hiding them in the folds of her skirt.

Doris's shoulders straightened when the judges reached her "English Country Cottage" and slumped again when they passed without

stopping overlong before it.

"Do you think they liked it?" Doris whispered.

Nora could feel her tension as if it were her own.

"I'm sure they did," Nora answered.

The judges stopped at the next rendering, a stark, seven-story, stone-and-steel "American Insurance Building," by Lydia Rhodes.

"Just like her heart," Doris whispered.

Lydia stood aloof, poised and confident, knowing that if all else failed, her father would secure her success in life.

Most of the girls disliked her, but Nora envied her desperately. Not for her uncaring heart, but for the comfort she took

for granted, something that Nora would never enjoy no matter how successful she might become.

One by one, the designs were inspected and judged, the students' culmination of three years' work. With each move, one more

student sagged with relief that it was over, while the others still waiting to be judged became wound more tightly than before.

A tile-roofed colonnade, an industrial warehouse, a marble archway, several mansions, a general store from a girl who had

traveled all the way from Ohio to study.

Two-thirds of the way down, the judges stopped at Nora's "Hospital for Tuberculosis Patients."

Doris slipped her hand into Nora's. "I hope you win."

Nora squeezed her hand back. So did she. Both of them could really use the prize money. Doris was saving her money to go to

California to further her studies. And the money would keep Louise off Nora's back for at least a couple of months. Long enough

to find a decent-paying job as a draftsman.

Nora's hospital design wasn't as grand or as large as some of the other designs. And not at all like the overwhelming edifices

that one usually equated with hospitals. It was only three floors tall with courtyards and solaria, housing all but the severest

cases on the ground floor, where the rooms opened onto lawns and gardens, and, most of all... onto fresh air.

Nora had managed to capture all of this in her watercolor rendering. And though not particularly interested in landscaping, Nora knew that architects were also responsible for the surroundings as well as the interior designs of the buildings. She was proficient in both.

The panel seemed to be spending an inordinate amount of time in front of her rendering, but she couldn't tell if they approved

or not. Her entry was detailed and accurate. She'd checked her dimensions at least twenty times. And even though Nora would

rather be doing mechanical renderings of beams, footings, and lintels, she knew she was an excellent watercolorist.

Professor Gerhardt had said her color treatments breathed life into her designs.

Nora just hoped they got her a job.

She'd sent out letters of introduction. Several of the professors had given her recommendations. She'd had two appointments

for interviews for junior draftsman. One had turned out to be an unpaid internship. The other paid so little that Professor

Gerhardt and Professor Lehmann of Linear Drawing had both advised her to turn them both down. How could they expect anyone

to live on those kinds of wages? She suspected they assumed she had other means of income—a father or a husband.

She tried not to let her confidence slip. It had only been two appointments. Her professors were certain she would find a

suitable position.

Nora prayed they were right.

It seemed to take forever for the judges to reach the end of the exhibit, where they paused long enough to make a final perusal

of the wall. Then they exited the room to talk among themselves and decide the winners.

The line of would-be architects breathed a communal sigh. The guests went back to their conversations or took second looks

at the exhibit. Time slowed to a crawl for the nervous entrants.

Even so Nora was surprised when the door opened and the judges returned. The room quieted while Professor Gerhardt announced several special mentions. Doris's cottage was one of them.

In the cover of polite pause, Nora was the one to take Doris's hand. "Congratulations."

"Second place... Verity Klimpt's ‘Soldiers Park.'?"

Nora caught Lydia's eye. Surely it was now between the two of them. Lydia smiled as if she already knew the verdict of the

panel.

Nora lifted her chin, proud and determined, even though it cost her dearly. She'd done her best work and if she left the design

school without a prize or even a mention, she could still hold her head high.

And suddenly, Doris was nudging her forward. Professor Gerhardt was clapping and smiling at her. Everyone was applauding,

even Lydia Rhodes.

"You won!" Doris gave her a more forceful nudge and Nora went as if in a dream to accept her first-place prize.

Nora didn't know whether to laugh or cry, so she did neither. Just accepted her award and the many congratulations, her medallion

clutched in one hand and the prize money in the other. She'd won first place—fifty dollars. Fifty dollars. It was like a miracle in the Bible. She hadn't dared let herself dream that she would actually win first.

She wished Papa and Jimmy could be here to see her triumph... but if Jimmy were here, she wouldn't be. She bit her lip

to keep it from quivering. I did it, Jimmy. I did it, Papa.

She would tell Mama and Rina all about it tonight. She'd promised to come out as soon as the presentations were over. They

had been so sure she would win.

Then she was gathered into the line of girls, Nora and Verity holding their awards at the center. The startling flash of a

camera and then everyone was dispersing.

Nora started to follow them, but saw Professor Gerhardt walking toward her. He was accompanied by Stanford White. Nora looked wildly around. They couldn't be headed for her, but

the other girls had already left.

Mr.White was a tall man, taller than she'd thought, with red hair and a bushy red mustache. And older than she'd imagined

him. Stanford White, the pinnacle of architecture in New York.

Professor Gerhardt lifted one long finger. "MissBromley, a moment, please."

Nora sucked in her breath so hard she almost choked.

"I want you to meet an associate of mine. Mr.Stanford White."

"Congratulations," Mr.White said, not looking at Nora but past her shoulder to her hospital. "Very impressive renderings.

Very calming to skittish clients. A woman's touch. Yes. An interesting idea."

Nora managed a thank-you, but she doubted if Mr.White was even listening. Then he turned without warning to pin her with

bright blue eyes. "How's your mechanical drawing?"

"Excellent," the professor interjected. "We sent her down to Cooper Union for advanced drafting classes."

"Mmm, a little dab of a girl." Mr.White glanced past Nora to Lydia's insurance building. "Then, larger isn't always better."

"As well as an impeccable artist," Professor Gerhardt added.

"I can see that." He looked down at Nora. "I may have need of some additional renderings of several buildings I'm currently

working on. Piecemeal work, paid by the assignment. Bring your portfolio to my office Monday morning and I'll take a look.

Technical schemata and client watercolor examples, like your exhibit tonight. If they're acceptable, I may have some work

for you. Eight o'clock. Fifth floor. The professor will give you the address. Don't be late."

He nodded to the professor. "Gerhardt. Nice bit of talent here tonight. Good evening." Both Nora and the professor watched as he strode away.

"Well," said Professor Gerhardt. "I'd say it's been a banner evening for MissNora Bromley. McKim, Mead, and White is a plum

training ground for young architects, even as an independent artisan."

Nora fought for words. "I don't know how to thank you."

"It wasn't my doing," the professor said. "And you don't have the job yet. Be sure to pick out your neatest work, though you

always do neat work."

"I will, and I meant thank you for everything you've taught me, for all of you at the school."

"You are quite welcome. But you understand, even if he does take you on, you'll have to subsidize it with other work. But

do a good job for White and the news will spread. They may even take you on full time. That would be something. To begin in

McKim, Mead, and White, the pressure to produce quickly and cleanly will be intense, but the payoff could be great."

"I'm up to the task."

"I'm certain you are. You'll have a bright start and I believe if you persist, you will go far." He pursed his lips. "I must

say, I'm surprised that he made such an overture. McKim, Mead, and White has never employed a woman as a draftsman. Your conduct

must be impeccable," the professor said. "You must be determined."

"I am determined," Nora said.

"And not be daunted when others get the better opportunities."

"I'm still determined, sir."

"It won't be easy, so tell me now if you are absolutely certain you intend to continue in architecture as a profession."

Nora frowned. Of course she would continue. "I do intend to. I won't fail. I can't."

Both of the professor's thin eyebrows lifted. "Courage is easy before the battle, my dear."

"I won't give up, Professor."

"Good. But you will have to be better than the rest. You need more study, but you can get that by paying attention, eyes and

ears always open. You're representing all of us, so keep a professional demeanor at all times and give them no cause to regret

hiring you."

"I won't."

"Good. We're all very proud of you. Now go join your friends and celebrate. The real work begins next week."

There would be no celebrating with friends tonight, Nora thought. She had to catch the trolley for the journey across the

river to Brooklyn. Mama and Rina would be waiting to hear about the contest and Louise would want whatever money she could

get out of it.

So with her medal and money stuffed deep into her pockets, she bid her professor good night and started across Twenty-third

Street to the trolley stop.

It was after nine o'clock when Nora finally reached Louise's apartment. She was tired and hungry and hoped Louise would offer

her something to eat. She'd been too nervous to eat during the day and too much in a hurry to catch the trolley to stop even

for a cup of tea.

She was just walking up the sidewalk to the apartment when the front door banged open and Rina came flying out.

Nora laughed for the first time today, then she saw Rina's face in the light of the streetlamp.

Her euphoria died there on the sidewalk. "What is it? Is Mama unwell?"

"No!" cried Rina, her round cheeks wet with tears. "She says I have to leave school and go to work in the factory."

"What is this nonsense? Mama would never say such a thing."

"Not Mama. Louise. She says we're too expensive. But I can't. I can't quit school. I promised Papa."

They had all promised Papa, but not all were as keen at keeping his wishes. Nora huffed out a sigh. "Don't worry, Rina. You

will not leave school, and I will tell Louise that."

Rina, only thirteen, with thick dark curls, long lashes, and more height than Nora, was already a beauty. With an education,

she would do well in the world. But first Nora would have to unruffle Louise's feathers. She was fairly certain the money

in her pocket would go a long way toward doing that.

"Let me come live with you. I can sleep on the floor. I won't be a nuisance. l won't eat hardly anything."

"Silly, how would you get to school every day from across the river?"

"I could go to school there."

Nora eased Rina away. "Listen, little one. Soon I hope to be able to get you and Mama and me our own apartment, but it is

still a time away. Try to be patient and learn your lessons and your manners, and for heaven's sake, put a hankie to your

nose. It's running. "

Rina fumbled in her skirt pocket for her hankie.

"That's better. Now dry your tears before we go inside. You don't want anyone, especially Louise, to see you when you're not

at your finest."

"You sound like Mama," Rina said and slipped her arm through Nora's.

"Good," said Nora. Hopefully her own manners, the ones Mama had drummed into her impatient head, would stand them all in good

stead. She would need them. She was to present herself at McKim, Mead, and White on Monday. She would have to remember to

show them her finest, too.

A rush of anticipation and abject fear coursed through her. But first she must deal with her older sister.

"Scoot now," she whispered to Rina as soon as they were inside, "and tell Mama I'll be in shortly."

Rina ran off and Nora stepped into the kitchen.

"Well, you're late enough, " Louise said, casting Nora a quick look over her shoulder.

"Tonight was the awards presentation. I told you."

"And I suppose Rina has been telling tales of how meanly she's treated here."

"Not at all."

Nora had had years to accustom herself to her older sister's brusque manner. Louise had been bitter ever since Nora could

remember.

Nora understood part of it. When their brother, Jimmy, became ill with tuberculosis, Louise, as the oldest, had had to go

to work to help their parents take care of the younger two girls.

They'd lived in a crowded, but decent, tenement building. Mama cleaned houses and took in finishing work from the tailor's

shop to help support the family, while also keeping their apartment clean and neat. Papa had been diligent about saving money

so that his only son would get a higher education. The first in the family. Jimmy, as it turned out, had not lived long enough

to graduate from the tenement school.

When he died, Papa had refused to spend any of his tuition money and decreed that Nora would take Jimmy's place at school.

Louise had resented them all since that day, but especially she resented Nora.

Nora didn't blame her. Nora had gotten her heart's desire. And Louise was forced to put her own life on the back burner.

Now at last, Nora would prove to them that she was fulfilling her part of the promise.

"Where is Donner this evening?" Nora asked.

"Working the night shift. Why?"

"No reason, just being polite."

"Ha!" Louise turned around, flinging soap suds from the wooden spoon she was holding. "Oh, bother," she said and snatched

up a towel to sop up the spill. "I suppose you think you're better than us because you get to go to posh awards presentations

while my husband works his fingers to the bone, just to put a roof over our heads. He didn't bargain for having the whole

family sponge off us."

"I'm sure he didn't, but the family doesn't sponge off you. I give you every free penny I have. And I'll send more once I

begin earning a steady paycheck."

"When-when-when. You mean if . Who ever heard of a woman working as an architect? A complete waste."

"Or I could move in here and live with you," said Nora just to irritate her sister. No way would she subject herself to that

situation.

"Don't you dare threaten me."

Now it began; the inevitable accusations, devolving into miserable tears. But Nora was too exhausted to care. She'd worked

nonstop, graduated, had a potential job—fingers crossed. She wanted her family to be happy for her; she could be celebrating

with her friends instead of making the journey out here only to face the habitual recriminations from her sister.

"Let's not fight. I only came to give you this. Not only did I attend an awards program this evening, but I had a design entered

in it..."

Louise snorted and went back to washing her dishes.

"I won fif—twenty-five dollars." Nora reached in her pocket, extracted half of her prize money, and laid it on the oilskin

tablecloth. She'd slip Rina a little extra for her and Mama and make her promise not to tell Louise. Nora would keep the rest.

She could always turn it over later if it was really needed.

Louise's mouth dropped open, then she lunged and snatched it off the table.

"Where did you get this?"

"I won it for my design. It's yours for Mama and Rina's room and board. But I expect you to make it last," Nora said, drawing

herself up to her full five feet, two inches. Even bent over the table, Louise seemed to tower over her, at least in Nora's

mind.

But she'd learned long ago not to appear weak. Not to Louise, not to anyone.

"No more threats of sending Rina to the factory. No skimping on food or any other of Mama's needs. Now I'll just say a quick

hello to Mama and leave you in peace."

Nora, Rina, and their mother spent a cozy hour sitting in the parlor while Nora quietly told them about the competition and

all the fancy people who were there. About winning, but not about the money. Mama would have insisted on Nora keeping it all

for herself. As it was, she had never told them how much of her paltry income she ceded to Louise each week.

She did tell them about the meeting with Mr.White. "But don't say anything until I know for sure," she whispered. "I don't want to get Louise's hopes up." Or face her recriminations

if it didn't pan out.

She asked about Rina's schoolwork and laughed quietly at her mimicry of one of her teachers, careful not to awaken the sleeping

baby in the next room. Louise broke down enough to bring in a tea tray, but didn't stay.

Mama looked sadly at her retreating figure. "It has been hard on her."

"I know, Mama. Things will be different soon."

When it was time to leave, they both followed her to the door. Nora called out a goodbye to Louise. She didn't expect an answer,

she didn't get one.

And feeling a little deflated, she took her leave. She was just a few steps down the sidewalk when she heard footsteps behind her. She whirled around.

"Rina!"

"Here." Rina pushed a brown wrapped parcel at her. "Mama made it. She was going to wait for your birthday, but she says wear

it to your meeting with Mr.White with her love."

Nora took the parcel. Hugged her sister and watched until she was safely back in the building. Then she waved goodbye and

turned her back on the two solitary figures standing at the first-floor window.