The Art of Love
Cora was relieved when Miss Maple finished her unit on the Italian language, but positively beamed when her teacher announced they would begin discussing art. "Some of you may have recognized the painting behind the sofa resembles a Rembrandt. It was painted by one of his students, Willem de Poorter. It was originally bought by my grandfather," Miss Maple said, gazing at the painting with pride.
Gazing at the painting herself, Cora noticed it's light, realism, and portrayal of everyday items. The browns were shiny, especially against the light blue cloak the items were leaning. She'd hoped it might be a genuine Rembrandt, but if the artist had studied under Rembrandt, it was almost as compelling.
"Buying art is an expression of wealth and is something that young ladies as yourself should be aware," Miss Maple said, her eyes focusing on each student. "Rembrandt was a master artist in the seventeenth century, and his works are amazingly realistic and fulfilling." Cora couldn't help but nod in agreement. "This painting is called a still-life, because the artist portrayed still objects, in this case medieval armor. But Rembrandt and his followers also painted many portraits and landscapes."
Emma raised her hand. "My Aunt Alva said Rembrandt's style of painting is becoming dated in Europe. Our family gallery is packed with modernists like van Gogh and Monet, Manet, and Renoir. Monet has started something called an impressionist movement, and his paintings are based on what can be seen from far, rather than realism." Her voice showed excitement for these new European ideas.
Cora stared at her friend in fascination.
Miss Maple wasn't quite so fascinated. Instead, their teacher's eyes narrowed. "While here we are not interested in new fangled European fads, Emma. We are interested in proper art and proper artists. And you need to practice clipping your speech more; you still sound slightly slurred."
Emma's smile faded, and Cora wished to tell her she would love to hear more about the impressionists. If Jane were here, she would have insisted on discussing more about them, simply because Miss Maple found these impressionists so improper. Yet, it might be for the best that Jane Rockefeller had a cold. Despite how eager Cora was to hear the lessons on art, she wished to see her Frank again. She ached to have him touch her, kiss her, and call her by her first name.
If Jane had been here, she probably would insist on visiting her love at the factory again, even though Cora knew she should not do that. Not only was it far more disobedient to her parents than she'd ever been, but she wasn't wearing a red dress today.
Her Frank's eyes would certainly fall when he saw Cora in her spring green dress. Perhaps he would even shake his head.
Meanwhile, Miss Maple very deliberately picked up a book and said, "Another famous artist is Leonardo da Vinci, who lived well before Rembrandt, yet his works are still quite proper. They are even popular in Europe," Miss Maple looked directly at Emma as she said this. "After all, his Mona Lisa, hangs in the most prestigious museum in France, and his mural of The Last Supper hangs in Milan."
She held up the book to show a print of two of the most famous paintings in history, and Cora squinted for a better view. Unfortunately, she leaned over too far, and the books Cora had always been careful to balance on her head in finishing school landed on the floor with a loud thud.
Switching her stare from Emma to Cora, Miss Maple said, "I expect you to maintain goo posture, no matter how eager you are to see something, Miss Levinson."
"Yes, ma'am," Cora said, feeling her cheeks turn red as she bent over to retrieve the books. She smiled when Georgia retrieved one as well, even though that caused Georgia's own books to tumble from her head.
Miss Maple shook her head at both. "Correct posture at all times; you know that girls." Then her eyes focused on all her students. "Now da Vinci's Mona Lisa is famous both because of its beauty and because of the lack of identity of the woman. It's very unusual to paint a portrait of someone not well-known. But perhaps that is meant to be a lesson for all women, to remain unknown compared to our men."
Cora wished to nod her head in agreement, but she wouldn't risk knocking the books off her head again. She certainly felt unknown to Papa these days, as he rarely saw her or the rest of his family. Then she chastised herself. That wasn't right; Papa provided everything their family needed and more. Especially those red dresses Frank was so fond.
Perhaps someday he'd buy a piece of art as well.
Miss Maple turned a few pages of her book. "Da Vinci's Last Supper covers an entire wall. It portrays Christ with his apostles the night before he was betrayed. Da Vinci has several other Christian paintings, include Christ's baptism, and many other proper artists choose good Christian messages, too. They are very fulfilling for a good moral young woman."
Emma sighed at the subtle insult to the impressionists her family preferred, but Miss Maple was also staring hard at Cora. Did her teacher think because her last name was Levinson that Cora wasn't moral? After all, Mother had made it clear she had to pay twice the tuition for Cora to attend finishing school because of their last name.
Cora looked down briefly, unable to handle such judgement, but a wave of gratitude for both Poppa and Mother washed over her. She'd been taught to be comfortable with both her Jewish father and her Christian mother.
OOOOOOOOOO
Gratitude washed over Cora towards Mother continuously the next Saturday afternoon because she'd allowed Frank to call on her daughter again. Even better, Mother had agreed to a new spring dress in red. So, Cora sat next to Frank in the Levinson Drawing Room in a beautiful short sleeved red dress with ruffles on the edges.
Frank looked more handsome than ever in his grey suit, and she adored looking at him, especially considering he'd been constantly stroking her hand since they'd sat on the sofa. She felt his love with every stroke, even though her hand was hidden inside her red silk gloves. "… And I am rather impressed with all the lessons Miss Levinson tells me she's learning in finishing school. She speaks like quite the young lady."
Beaming, Cora decided Miss Maples lessons about the transatlantic accent may have been worth it, after all. When Frank gave her hand an extra squeeze, her heart almost leaped in delight.
Mother, meanwhile, nodded politely but sipped her tea instead of responding. Surely Mother didn't think Frank Samson was still too nice, as she'd worried about a few weeks ago? Not if Mother had allowed him to call on her again today.
Frank turned his warm brown eyes on hers and said, "I'd love to hear what proper ideas you are learning recently."
Cora couldn't imagine being happier than she already was, with her Frank sitting next to her, all handsome with his hand caressing hers. But now she would be able to speak of one of her favorite topics as well. Somehow her smile grew even wider.
And then her foolish brother Harold ruined everything.
He pushed his way into the drawing room, fighting Jenny and the cook to do so. "Hello Mr. Samson," Harold said with his stupid devilish grin on his face. "I still don't see why my sister is so obsessed with you."
"Harold!" Cora was normally not a violent person, but her brother never failed to bring out the desire to punch. She'd never felt the desire so strongly as right now. How dare he come into the drawing room and insult her Frank? "Be quiet. You are not supposed to be in here."
"I'm sorry Miss Levinson," said their cook, a plump woman about Mother's age. "We tried to stop him."
"But if Cora is interested in a man, shouldn't I have the right to meet him, at least?" Harold said, studying Frank and shaking his head. "He's boring, Cora, and he uses too much grease in his hair."
"Harold, that is enough!" Cora stood up, using her height to tower over her brother. "F – Mr. Samson is the most wonderful man I've ever met; he has so many nice things to say about me and our family, although I'm not certain you should be included in that. And his hair is very becoming on him." She adored how silky her Frank's hair always appeared and ached to run her hands through it.
"Harold, you are not allowed to be rude to our guest, especially a man who works with your Poppa," Mother said, standing up and shaking her head. "I apologize for my son's behavior, Mr. Samson, and I assure you, we are happy to have you here today."
Cora returned to the sofa, softening as Mother defended Frank to her brother. The man she loved would certainly be adored by all of their family soon enough.
"It is all right, Mrs. Levinson," Frank said with another melt worthy smile. "I understand Master Levinson is still a lad." He turned his eyes towards Cora once again. "I believe you were about ready to tell us about your latest lesson in finishing school." With that he resumed stroking her hand, and Cora forgot why she was ever angry at Harold.
"We are discussing art, which I truly adore," Cora said. Miss Maple had talked about Rembrandt and his students, da Vinci's Mona Lisa, Raphael, and Michelangelo. Yesterday she spoke of a Spanish painter named Piero della Francesca."
"Who cares?" Harold said, and Cora wondered why her brother was still in the drawing room.
But nothing could destroy her happiness when her Frank said, "We should all visit the Metropolitan Museum of Art next Saturday, then," and even touched her gloved hand to his lips.
"Well, I did hope to visit the museum soon," Mother said slowly. She paused to sip her tea again. "But I am not certain all of us should go." She looked closely at Frank as she said this, and Cora's heart fell. Clearly Mother had been hoping to go without Frank Samson, with the intention of "catching the eye of one of the first families of New York", just like she had attempted to do at the opera.
Sighing, Cora wondered what to say to convince her mother she didn't want another man. She loved Frank. Every time he looked at her, she melted and every time he touched her, Cora's heart swelled. And when his lips touched her, she almost exploded. He was definitely her prince.
"Mother, Mr. Samson clearly wishes to see the Metropolitan Museum as well, so why should we not all go?" Cora said carefully, her mind still on the feel of Frank's lips on her hand.
Mother smiled. "He could always go on Sunday." She took another sip of tea.
"Mother, that is not very nice to a man that has been so kind to all of us," Cora said, trying not to be disrespectful of her mother. Still, she hated how snobbish her Mother had become. Her mother was implying that Frank should go on Sunday because it was the day it was open to the general public; the rest of the week, the museum was only available for the very wealthy who could afford the high entrance fees.
"It would be a great honor to accompany you family to the museum," Frank said to Mother in his smooth voice. Surely Mother couldn't say no to him without appearing rude. Hadn't she already lectured Harold for being rude to her Frank?
OOOOOOOOOOO
Holding Frank's arm tightly, the next Saturday, Cora entered the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Her heartbeat galloped at everything she would see at her prince's side. Meanwhile Mother, having already paid the fees, strolled several feet ahead them, already looking for prominent people that might be here as well.
Spotting someone who may have been Mrs. Stewart, Mother walked determinedly to the lady in the green spring hat on the far right.
Cora strolled behind her, paying more attention to Frank's touch than anything else. He seemed particularly pleased with the ruffles on her red dress today, the way he fingered them. And it caused her skin to tingle more than ever before. She barely even noticed when Mrs. Stewart brushed Mother aside.
Still, Mother didn't seem too upset, walking firmly in another direction. Cora's eyes widened as she saw her mother was headed towards the Egyptian section. Various pieces of Egyptian art surrounded her, and Cora gazed at all of them while Mother attempted to speak to another middle-aged lady.
At one point, Frank managed to steer Cora to a dark corner and give her a real kiss which made her fly for the rest of the day. She barely even saw Mother or even the Greek and Roman art section of the museum.
"We should go to Brighten Beach next time," Frank said with his wonderful smile as they all left. His fingers caressed Cora's hand as he spoke, and she nodded automatically, not even caring what to she agreed.
"We can't," Mother said bluntly, ruining the moment. "Brighten Beach won't allow Levinson's, event those of us who attend church." With that, she climbed into the carriage.
Gazing into Frank's sad eyes, Cora wished she could do something to make it up to him. He was clearly looking forward to a day at the beach. "Frank, I wish…" she said with a sigh. And his sad eyes disappeared as quickly as they had appeared.
"You will accompany me on another carriage ride through Central Park, then. The spring flowers are in bloom." Cora nodded immediately before climbing into the Levinson carriage.
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