To Make a Good Match

Cora and Lady Liberty

Disclaimer: I don't own Downton Abbey.

"… Yes, I would like a cup of tea, please," said Cora Levinson slowly, trying to make her voice sound prim, just as the instructor at the East Side Finishing School wished her to speak. It was called the trans…something accent.

Miss Maple stared at Cora, her tiny blue eyes somehow piercing into Cora's. "Remember to accent your "t" more," she said sharply. The woman wasn't that much older than sixteen-year-old Cora or any of the other girls attending the school, but when she spoke like that, it was easy to believe she was the same age as Mother.

"I would like a cup of tea, please," said Caroline Taylor, her accent almost perfect. Miss Maple nodded proudly at the girl as the maid brought the tea out on a tray. Caroline glanced at Cora while the teacher focused on the tea, a smug look on her face.

Cora sighed softly. She'd been attending finishing school for only a little over a month, but she still couldn't seem to speak in the right manner. And improving their social standard now that the Levinsons lived in New York City on Fifth Avenue was so important to Mother. It seemed it was a bigger struggle than she'd expected. Not only was their money new but the name "Levinson" sounded too Jewish for most of the people Mother desperately wished to befriend.

Mother had already told Cora that she'd had to pay extra for Cora to even attending the East Side Finishing School, never mind that Cora wasn't Jewish and hadn't been raised Jewish.

At least she'd managed to keep the books balanced on her head today.

"Now how does a lady hold a teacup?" said Miss Maple to all her students as all the tea was properly set on the table. The table, set for all six students and the instructor, was situated in the middle of Miss Maple's drawing room, and seemed to be placed there specifically for their lessons. On the opposite side of the room was a blue sofa and armchair, probably for when Miss Maple was entertaining. Behind the table was a space cleared for the girls to learn dance steps. The walls held several interesting pieces of art, including what might be a Rembrandt.

Cora hoped they would discuss the artwork soon; the class was supposed to include a session on art history and French drawing, which was something she'd never been able to study in school as a child in Cincinnati. She was almost glad her mother had insisted on enrolling her in the East Side Finishing School, if it meant learning about art at some point.

Miss Maple's eyes, still interested in the girls holding a teacup properly, settled on Georgia Stuyvesant. The books hadn't fallen off Georgia's head yet today, but everyone knew it was inevitable.

Georgia slowly raised her hand to the teacup closest to her and grasped the handle between her forefinger and her thumb. Miss Maple nodded, until the girl's books seemed to jump off her sandy-blonde head and land on the floor. "Someday you will learn to sit up straight, or you will never make a good match," Miss Maple said, almost barking.

Georgia swallowed but nodded. Then she bent down to pick up her books. After all, that was the goal of the young ladies in the room. To make a good match in a husband someday.

But Cora knew Georgia honestly tried; she just couldn't seem to make the books balance on her head the way the rest of them could. And for that reason, Cora stood up and assisted Georgia with the books, even though it caused her own books to fall off her head.

"Thank you," Georgia said softly.

Miss Maple stared at both, her blue eyes piercing again. Her hard looks could be even worse than words.

OOOOOOOOOOO

"Now, I am certain all of you girls have heard about the dedication of the Statue of Liberty at the end of next week," Miss Maple said as all seven of them finally sat down with their tea. Her voice was slow and deliberate, as she always spoke when she wished her student to pay close attention.

Choosing an appropriate topic of conversation was an important part of the class as well.

"Yes, ma'am," said Caroline Taylor in that perfect accent Cora still couldn't reach. "It is set for October 28th."

"My family has made a significant donation to it," said Emma Crawford brightly. She was one of Cora's good friends, as she was just as sunny as her strawberry blonde hair. "So, I am rather looking forward to it."

"Clip your speech, Emma," Miss Maple said shaking her head. Emma was raised in the South, so speaking with the proper accent their teacher wished was even harder for her than Cora. She met her friend's eyes in understanding.

"Yes, I'm certain your family will have their name engraved on the statue right next to Joseph Pulitzer," Jane Rockefeller said in a rather sarcastic manner, returning the subject to Lady Liberty. "Personally, I will just be glad when it is over." Cora almost choked on her tea, and everyone else stared, but none more than Miss Maple. "It's all too much foolishness and hype." Then she made an unladylike snort.

"Jane, that is not appropriate to say, especially when so many local families have donated money to it's construction," Miss Maple said, her blue eyes piercing again. "And I don't wish to ever hear that noise again. This is the third time I've had to lecture you on rude comments since you have begun this class. I suggest you think more carefully before you speak, less I need to remove you. There are many other girls whose parents are eager for them to attend finishing school, you know."

"Yes, ma'am," Jane said with a sigh, but Cora saw her roll her brown eyes when Miss Maple wasn't looking. Cora tried to understand Jane, and sometimes the other girl reminded her of Mother, who could be a bit too blunt sometimes. But other times Jane seemed to purposely disobey Miss Maple, reminding Cora more of her younger brother, Harold.

"Well, I think it's the most exciting thing that has happened in New York in a long time," Caroline said. "My family and Georgia's have even been invited to Mrs. Astor's house to watch the parade preceding the dedication." She seemed to grow three inches in pride as she spoke.

Cora sighed into her teacup, careful not to cause attention, less she be reprimanded again. Of course, Caroline and Georgia were invited to the exclusive Mrs. Astor's house. The Taylors and the Stuyvesants were old money families; they were probably even included in the "four hundred" that Mother so desperately wished the Levinsons to be a part.

Emma, on the other hand was related to the Vanderbilt's through Cornelius's second wife and hated by the Astors. Jane was the niece of the man who'd founded Standard Oil, an even newer wealth than the Vanderbilts, more in league with Cora's father.

Still, their names didn't sound as Jewish as Levinson. Cora wished her father's faith didn't matter so much to New York society. Shouldn't it be more important that he sold beautiful fabrics and other dry goods?

"Perhaps you would like to come to our house on October 28th for the parade, Emma," Cora said after placing her teacup gently in the saucer, just as Miss Maple wished. "Mother is planning quite the tea herself, and even Poppa promises to be there, as he made a donation for the construction, too."

Originally, Cora had hoped to stand near the docks and see the dedication of Lady Liberty directly, especially as they would be hand-lighting the big torch. But Mother had reminded her that they would have to stand for hours, given the length of the parade. And since the parade would march directly in front of their Fifth Avenue house, it would be a mistake not to view it from the comforts of their own drawing room.

Emma's eyes lit up in delight, just as Cora had hoped they would. "I would love that, Cora; especially as my parents are still in South Carolina, but I shall have to check with the Family." Cora nodded. By "the Family" she meant the Vanderbilts whom she stayed with while she lived in New York.

Just then, Georgia's books tumbled off her head, landing with a loud thud.

"Georgia," Miss Maple said, shaking her head. "You need to keep your back straight and your shoulders even."

"Yes, ma'am," the girl said softly, sitting as straight as she could and eyeing her shoulders to make certain they were even. How could Miss Maple not notice how much the other girl tried?

OOOOOOOOOO

Cora was relieved to be seated at the Levinson sitting room without Miss Maple on October 28th. It was such an exciting day as they all stared into the sitting room's large bay windows, waiting to see the parade.

Even Poppa's eyes were on the window, although he did so from the blue armchair instead of on the window seat with Cora, her brother Harold, and Emma. But Cora loved that he'd managed to take a Saturday off to spend time with their family, as he was so busy, she rarely saw him anymore. Many nights, he didn't even come home, as he'd taken to sleeping in his office. Cora missed his presence, especially to offset Mother, who sat in the opposite blue armchair.

"I hear the horses!" Emma said with her eyes even wider than normal, still glued to the window. Indeed, when Cora listened closely, she could hear the policemen's horses' trotting through the window.

"They're coming!" Cora said, nodding her head at her friend. She reached her pink gloved hand for Emma's cream-colored glove, and they both squeezed each other tight with enthusiasm.

Eventually, the New York City Police rode forward, looking proud and strong in their blue uniforms. Cora couldn't help but study them closely, as the men were certainly handsome. They all fit perfectly on their horses, like a prince from one of her storybooks. And Cora could easily picture the one on the left with his strong arms wrapped around her. Or perhaps she might stroke the blondish one's head as his hair looked so soft. My goodness, the next one was tall; Cora had always preferred elevated men, as she was a bit taller than most girls her age.

She pictured herself and the great-looking policeman dancing as their heights aligned flawlessly.

"Where is Jenny?" said Harold's voice, ruining Cora's perfect daydream. "Shouldn't she be back with more tea by now?"

"Why does it matter?" Cora said, hoping to conceal her frustration. Ordinarily, she was a calm person, but her brother truly got under her skin sometimes. They already had tea and even little cookies, why must he interrupt the parade for everyone?

"If I dump the tea over your head, she'll have to bring more," Harold said with a devilish grin as he held his teacup in the air.

"Harold!" Cora said, her frustration showing full force now. She stood up, less he follow through with his threat. Ever since he'd turned thirteen, he'd become more rebellious than ever.

"Cora, Harold, that is enough," said Mother, shaking her head from the armchair across from Poppa's. "Harold, why don't you ask Jenny for more tea, but keep your hands off her apron." Harold had recently developed a habit of spending a considerable amount of time with their maid. Cora hoped it wasn't just because of the size of the girl's chest; sometimes Mother could be too cynical as well as blunt.

Harold grinned and all but ran to the kitchen, as that was clearly what he wanted.

Cora sighed and returned to the window seat. Unfortunately, the handsome police had trotted away. Harold had even caused her to miss the chief of police's fancy carriage. She told herself it didn't matter. Mother would never allow a mere policeman to court Cora, as none of them were wealthy, let alone a member of the four hundred families of New York.

But what was wrong with a bit of fantasy? Her brother had spoiled that, too.

"Look Cora, here comes President Cleveland," Emma said eagerly, pointing at the next carriage, which was decorated in red, white, and blue. It was an open carriage, and the middle-aged balding man waved to everyone as he rode by.

Cora waved at the current President as well, her mood already improving. "It's nice to see him return to New York for the statue dedication." After all, he'd been their governor until he'd become President last year.

Emma shrugged. "Lady liberty is a national symbol. It's not just for New York," she said pointedly, her loyalty to her southern roots showing.

"Of course; all Americans honor her," Cora said. "And that must be President Cleveland's new wife, Frances," she said, deliberately changing the subject to avoid a conflict. She pointed through the window at the woman sitting next to him. She appeared only a few years older than Emma or Cora.

"Yes, Frances has made a nice match for herself, with the president, hasn't she girls?" Mother said from behind them. "I hear they had quite the wedding in the White House itself this past summer. You both need to think of such things."

As if Mother would ever allow Cora not to think of such things.

"Here comes the Knights of Labor," Emma said, returning their attention to the window. A group of mostly men, but some women marched down Fifth Avenue, holding a sign that said the name of their organization, as well as their goals for better working conditions.

It was odd that the Knights included men and women and Cora found it inspiring that they could all march for the same cause. Of course, it probably didn't hurt that many of the men were handsome. Cora pictured herself marching next to the one behind the sign, as he was rather tall.

Poppa sighed, much louder than his quiet nature normally did. "Their type caused a lot of trouble with the general strike last May. It took me weeks before my shops were back in order again."

Cora turned to see her father, hating to see him bothered. He appeared slumped in the blue armchair, instead of sitting proudly as the most important person in the room. "There seems to be a lot less of them than there was at the last parade, Poppa."

Poppa nodded.

"Yes, Mr. Levinson," Emma said, although she didn't turn her head from the bay window. "Aunt Alva says the knights' popularity will never be the same because of what happened to New York with the general strike."

Poppa sat up straight in response to that, just as he'd always done when Cora was younger.

Just then, their maid Jenny, entered the sitting room. "Mr. Harold said you would all like more tea," she said a bit nervously, carrying a teapot. At least her apron was perfectly intact so Harold must have kept his hands to himself this time.

Still Cora's brother stood near Jenny with his trademark devilish smirk.

"Yes, of course," Mother said, holding out her empty teacup. Jenny poured it carefully, so not to spill a drop. "I so wish you'd chosen blackberry tea instead of regular. That flavor is perfect for an afternoon, isn't it, Isidore?" The maid's eyes widened in even more nervousness.

No matter what one of the servants did for them, Mother always had some sort of complaint.

"I suppose, Martha but it doesn't truly matter," Poppa said neutrally. Jenny sighed in relief as she filled his teacup.

"Cora, do you think I'm holding my teacup to Miss Maple's satisfaction?" said Emma as she held out her own teacup with a bit of a giggle. Cora studied her friend for a moment. She gripped the teacup with two fingers and her thumb, so not to burn herself with the hot tea, but didn't their teacher tell them to hold it in a different way?

Cora couldn't remember and was relieved it didn't matter today. She giggled as well, and deliberately held her teacup incorrectly, putting one hand under the cup, while the other hand grasped the handle. "I doubt she'd be happy with the way I'm holding it."

"Girls," Mother said sternly, shaking her head as Jenny poured their tea. "Miss Maple is teaching you important lessons."

"Ah, here comes the Women's Christian Temperance Union," Cora said, deliberately looking out the window again.

"Do you think New York City will ever be dry?" Emma said as she sipped her tea. "There are certainly a lot of women down there who hope so, but I cannot picture it happening."

Cora shrugged her shoulders slightly, so not to jiggle her tea. "I don't know. Jane Rockefeller says her uncle is a huge proponent of it, but I like having wine with dinner and my mother likes champagne on important occasions. And I know a lot of other New Yorkers do, too."

"Certainly not Mr. Hewitt," Harold said, speaking up for the first time in several moments, although his eyes still appeared to wander towards Jenny's chest. "I still cannot believe that congressman wishes to close all those saloons." He studied the man who rode by in his open carriage, waving with a frown on his face, before darting back to Jenny.

"It matters not to you, Harold because you aren't allowed to go to a saloon, anyway," Mother said sharply.

"That's part of the fun of it," Harold said, his devilish grin even wider. Nothing made an activity more appealing to Cora's brother than being told he was not allowed to do it. Sometimes the drama and struggles between him and Mother were a bit much.

Cora sipped her tea, wishing she were far away from this New York City townhouse. Even if it was the day of lady liberty.

This story should cover from October 1886 to part of 1889, which is a little over two years. So I'm going to try my twice a month posting schedule.