Chapter One
Where Mitten is interviewed and examined by the Headmistress.
It was a very long trip so Mitten had a long time to think about it. Her Daddy told her that the school she was going to was far away and very strict compared to the little school house in Lincoln. For people in Nebraska, they were very well off. It was the only way that she would be even considered for so expensive a school as the Petworthy Finishing School for Girls and Academy of Submissive Studies. There were only whispered stories about the school rumors so surreal that they were growing into urban legend. They were stories that had filtered all the way west to Lincoln. Because Daddy was huge ranch owner and had tens of thousands head of cattle for beef they were doing so well compared to many others. While the Great War waged in Europe, Daddy's ranch benefited by sending ground meat overseas for the war effort.
Since Momma had died, Daddy had been growing with trepidation about how to raise an 18 year-old daughter. The world was becoming so modern. In the east, there was a suffrage movement for women. Mitten didn't know how she felt about that...about women being able to vote and asking for so many roles that men traditionally had. Daddy was sure that it wasn't a good thing. Daddy was so traditional. So when Mitten got her first period, Daddy had to call Mrs. Pettigrew, the school mistress in town to come and attend her. She taught her about how to take care of her bleeding and it soon became clear that Daddy wasn't prepared to raise her.
It was subtle at first that Daddy began to pine aloud at how nice it would be for Mitten to be able to go to a good boarding school like the ones that they had in the east. Frequently, Mitten saw him having conversations with some of the other affluent people that he associated. She would eavesdrop and catch little phrases...like "Petworthy" and "best thing for her". It became very clear that it was more than a passing interest. Mitten made some small protestations when Daddy began to sincerely plan her schooling, but when Daddy announced that an official from the school would be visiting to interview her, she relented in her complaints. Her love for Daddy far outweighed her desire to displease him. She knew that life was so much harder without Momma around to help him. She would do anything to make his life easier.
Her father was a man among men but at the same time not rugged in the traditional sense. While he was a cattle rancher, he was more of a company CEO than the actual person herding the cattle. He wasn't a big man, being of average height and build. However he was recognized in the local community as an important person and Mitten could feel their unspoken respect in their demeanor. Mitten respected him. He was a relatively strict parent but his form of parenting was more conceptual. When Momma was alive, it was she that tended to Mitten's day to day care, raising and training. While they were strict parents, Mitten seldom tested that. She was always a good, compliant daughter. The reward of their loving affection to her was her joyful desire to please them, especially Daddy. While they were affectionate, they didn't fail to discipline her when necessary. But even those dread moments over Momma or Daddy's lap, her breeches around her knees, her skirt thrown over her back, she never felt like she was unloved and knew that when she was being disciplined there was a greater purpose to it.
It was these things that the woman who came to interview Mitten continued to discuss with Daddy before turning her attention to her.
Mrs. Shyrene Cashmere was the Headmistress of the Petworthy school and it was obvious that, while she paid the proper respect to Daddy as she should to a person of his station, she, herself, was also a formidable woman of power and means. Daddy spoke with her as Mitten had seen him talk with other business associates when he was haggling a deal.
"Let's speak plainly, shall we Mrs. Cashmere?"
"Of course," she answered flatly, postured stiffly in Daddy's sitting room, her legs crossed. She was wearing a shearer dress than was traditional in the west. It was dark and still modest, but went just past her knees, unlike the full length dresses that Mitten usually wore. Her hair was long but pulled up and restrained though, again, not in the most conservative manner. She had a white blouse under her dark jacket but a low collar instead of one that covered her neck.
"I want my daughter to be able to go to Petworthy. Make no mistakes about it. I have no desire to have her go to be a Cornhusker here in Lincoln. But I am confused. My understanding is that it was more exclusive to the power brokers and politicians from the East. Why are you condescending to consider a Nebraska rancher's daughter? Is there a catch?"
"Well Mr. Wordsmith, I would be disingenuous if I said that your daughter and your business meet the typical profile of candidates we consider at Petworthy. However, we have always tried to stay on the front edge of society and how it changes. It is you who are possibly underestimating your business and level of notoriety. Your cattle and stockyards are some of the most valuable commodities now. When the war ends eventually, your stocks will only rise. While you have limited ability to know it way out here on the frontier, back home we have made note of your futures. It would do well for us to bring your daughter into the fold and put her into the wife pool for future husbandry."
Mrs. Cashmere was talking about Mitten like one of Daddy's cattle. Yes she wanted to be married but she was hoping she would have more input about who she was going to be matched with.
"While there is the matter that the family background is still more humble than we are likely to appreciate...no disrespect, sir..."
"None taken, Mrs. Cashmere." There probably was but Daddy was making a deal and it was more important to fording social graces.
"Yes, well, we believe that we can enhance that with our training and conditioning and then helping her to find the right husband when the time comes. She will have to do some remedial classes to get caught up. However, we have reviewed her transcripts and they are very promising. Your background and your well-known opposition to the suffrage movement also weighed heavily in our considerations."
"I take that to mean that my continued opposition would be considered a mandatory part of Lavinia's scholarship?"
Mrs. Cashmere regarded Daddy cautiously but still wasn't intimidated by his status.
"I would think that such a consistency of character would reflect positively on your daughter's educational opportunities." Daddy's wry smile was similar to one's when he knew he had struck a deal for some cattle. Still, Mrs. Cashmere raised a cautionary hand.
"This is pending a favorable report of my interview with Lavinia, of course."
For the first time, Mrs. Cashmere turned her gaze at Mitten who was standing with her hands folded in front of her. Though she was properly dressed in one of her finest, full-length frocks; green with white lace, she felt enormously insufficient in the presence of the daunting Headmistress.
"Mr. Wordsmith, this part of the interview is probably best served without a man in the room. We will be discussing matters of an intimate nature that I would be uncomfortable with in mixed intercourse."
"Of course," Daddy said with a minor bit of fluster before he turned to Mitten. "I want you to answer the Headmistress truthfully and obey any of her instructions."
"Yes, Daddy." Her response to him was as automatic as it was mechanical. Her father left the sitting room, pulling the double doors closed behind her.
As soon as the doors were closed, Mrs. Cashmere rose to her feet and strode confidently in front of Mitten. Instinctively, she felt her own countenance morph in the woman's proximity. She was a full six inches taller than her 5'3". She didn't know why but she lowered her eyes as she came close and became aware of her own breathing. There was something so innately powerful about Mrs. Cashmere and as she strolled around obviously inspecting the perspective student.
"Well you are a plain one aren't you?" There was no animus in her tone; just observation.
"Yes, ma'am."
"My title is 'Headmistress' and it is proper for you to address me that way." Again, she said it without a sense of anger just curtness.
"Yes, Headmistress."
