A/N – With this chapter, the story surpasses 100,000 words! Of course, some of them are author notes (FFN doesn't distinguish), but still… I never, ever thought I'd write a story that long. I also didn't think there would be such long gaps between chapters when I first started posting this. Part of the delay is from re-reading the original draft - which is now over a year old - and finding myself unhappy with it, extensively rewriting large portions rather than doing the fine-tuning I initially thought would be necessary. Other times, I'm sidetracked by going down new research rabbit holes, which leads to incorporating new historical details to enrich the story (like the prior info on Charley Ross, and the graduation information included in this chapter). Sometimes I get lazy and simply want to read other stories (both novels and fanfiction) for a break. And naturally Real Life demands attention, too.

I thank you all for coming along with me on this journey, however long it ends up taking.

Without further ado…

Follow Your Heart – The Cook Chronicles

Chapter 16 – Commencement

January 31, 1875

Dear Colleen,

I can hardly believe another year has passed, yet everything around me tells me it has. All of the new people and buildings in town are daily reminders of the passage of time.

We had an outbreak of influenza after the Christmas holiday, filling the entire clinic again – and, sadly, filling a few more spaces in the cemetery. Widow Farnsworth was among those that succumbed.

To keep Brian and Katie healthy, I had them quarantine with Theresa and her children. B. headed off to Denver in the middle of the epidemic, but I was so busy I barely had time to say goodbye. At least I know he will be coming home regularly to visit us, as you did. Your brother says he wants to study literature and become a writer. After all the time he devoted to writing articles for the Gazette, I cannot say I'm surprised. In fact, when I consider the many hours he's spent in the woods, I can easily picture him as a nature writer. Wouldn't that be something if the little boy who needed help with his spelling became the next Emerson or Thoreau? Or perhaps he will use his imagination to tell adventures tales like Daniel Defoe or James Fenimore Cooper. Whatever style of writing B. settles upon, we'll all be able to say, 'we knew him when'.

Emma has begun sewing her wedding dress. I told her that the women of town would be happy to sew her dress for her if she shared the pattern, but her response was that she doesn't want to leave anything to chance, and how would it look if a dressmaker couldn't make her own wedding dress? E. also said she wants you to be her matron of honor. May I tell her you accept?

Warm wishes to Andrew and Amanda.

Love,

Ma

:

February 21, 1875

Dear Ma,

I'm sorry to hear about Mrs. Farnsworth. She was always nice to me when I met her in town.

It's a little strange to think about Brian being in Denver while I'm here and Matthew is in C.S. I never thought the three of us would be living so far apart. But we'll all be together again soon, at least for a while.

As excited as I am to think of going home, I'm also a little sad when I think about leaving Philadelphia and all my friends here. It's been so nice being around girls who like medicine as much as I do. But after graduation, everybody will be going their separate ways. Some are becoming missionaries, some are going back to their hometowns to practice with their fathers, some want to go to Europe for more training, and others say they'll take whatever job they can find. When I was asked about my plans, I said that I'm looking forward to going home for a little while and seeing my brother get married. Nobody except Hannah and Deborah knows anything about Harvard. I feel a little bad keeping it a secret from the other girls, and from Amanda, but if I think of it as being like doctor-patient confidentiality, that makes it easier.

Of course, I'll be Emma's matron of honor! That's so nice of her to ask. Would it be all right if I borrowed a dress from you? I don't think I'll have time to buy something new before graduation.

All my love,

Colleen

:

March 15, 1875

Dear Colleen,

I will keep this letter short, since I will soon see you again and be able to share so many things with you in person. We are all eagerly awaiting your telegram informing us of the date of your commencement ceremony. We know you'll be passing your final examinations with flying colors.

In case you have not already suspected, Matthew will not be coming with us to Philadelphia. He is already planning time off from the courthouse for his honeymoon with Emma, and you know how much he dislikes long travel to begin with. There's also the possibility that Brian will not be joining us either. Though your college professors demonstrated compassion in granting you leave during Andrew's illness and my own incapacitation, they may not be as accommodating for a pleasure trip. I hope you won't be too disappointed if it's just Katie, Sully and I, though I strongly suspect your grandmother will be in attendance as well.

You are always welcome to borrow any of my dresses. By the time Katie is old enough to wear them, they will likely be long out of style, so I'm glad that my eldest daughter has use of them.

My best to Andrew and Amanda.

Love,

Ma

:

Amanda sat at her desk with a stack of folders neatly piled to her left. This was the end of the process, a bookend to what had begun at the start. In the beginning was the matriculation application – the record of the young woman's educational attainments; an account of the medical training she'd received thus far; and the all-important letter(s) of recommendation from the doctor(s) who had overseen her early training. Amanda would give the submissions to the dean to take to the Board of Corporators' meetings for review, where the young ladies' fates would be decided. Then, it would be Amanda's task to mail out the acceptances and rejections, though the latter were typically few in number (and always included words of encouragement for how the hopeful might improve her application for the following year). Today, then, with only final examinations left to complete, was the penultimate step of a long journey.

Submissions for graduation.

It was usually a formality, this perusing of the folders and ensuring all was in order, for the girls were typically thorough in checking their submissions for a missing document or omitted signature before turning them in. Amanda had deliberately set one specific folder aside, saving it for last, knowing it would be a particular pleasure to review. She smiled broadly as she opened that last file, spying the slip of paper which spelled out how the candidate desired her name to appear on the diploma and in the college's official roster of graduates, along with her hometown. As she had done with the others, Amanda turned over the pages one by one to ensure the candidate's submission met all the requirements for the awarding of a degree.

Attendance record approved? Check.

Dissection record approved? Check.

Record of preceptorship? Check.

Thesis submitted and approved? Check.

Graduation fee paid? Check.

All was in order, as expected. Amanda picked up the next sheet, the record of the first year's examinations. The scores from those, plus those of the final examinations in a few weeks' time, would determine scholastic honors. The secretary felt a sense of personal pride looking at this set of numbers, knowing the small role she'd played in helping a young woman live out her dream.

Before closing the file, Amanda took a nostalgic glance at the last page, the original matriculation application – and promptly did a doubletake. Scrutinizing it further, Amanda made a quick mental computation.

"Oh, no," she muttered, her happy mood shattered.

What to do?

She could ignore it. It would be a covert favor for a friend, to a young woman whom she'd grown close to – too close, perhaps, if she was even considering doing a thing such as this.

Look the other way.

No one would be the wiser; the dean trusted her implicitly. No one would be harmed, really… except Amanda herself. It would forever be imprinted on her conscience, that she'd given preferential treatment. And she'd be no better than the crooked politicians she read about in statehouses and Washington, men who thought nothing of playing fast and loose with the rules.

Amanda shook her head. She just couldn't do it. She wouldn't be able to live with herself if she did.

With a sigh and a heavy heart, Amanda closed the folder, aware of what she had to do next: she needed to tell them. It would be easy to inform Dean Bodley instead and let her deal with it, though that was the coward's way out. No, they should hear it from her directly. She could do it with a little kindness, at least, saving the news for the privacy of home and not doing it here in the office where others would likely approach to ask what was wrong. Better to give them a chance to compose themselves first and deal with the reaction of others later.

:

Amanda waited until after supper to spring the news. It was easy to do, since Colleen normally spent this time studying at the table and the young doctor wouldn't be home until after his shift at the hospital. Once they were all gathered for the meal, the evening's discussion hopscotched across the day's news: a counterfeiting ring finally caught after an eight-year manhunt; ongoing rioting by Pennsylvania miners and the possibility that the army would be called in to quell the violence; and the daily developments in the adultery trial of Reverend Henry Ward Beecher – brother of the noted writer Harriet Beecher Stowe - accused of having an affair with his best friend's wife. Was the esteemed Beecher yet another two-faced con man, publicly the pious, moral compass for the community while privately he was morally depraved? Amanda found it abhorrent that the scandal was playing out in public, and yet, if the Reverend was not all he said he was, then the public had a right to know.

"Are you feeling alright, Amanda? You seem kind of quiet this evening and haven't eaten much of your dinner," Colleen noted as the table was being cleared. Ever since that evening of being snowed in at the hospital, when Dr. Reed had made the comment about being observant, Colleen had tried to be more observant herself.

The older woman knew she couldn't put it off any longer. "Oh, I'm fine… I've just had something on my mind. Colleen, I… I have something for you." Amanda set the dishes down and went to her purse while Colleen and Andrew exchanged baffled looks, for it wasn't like their landlady to stammer nervously. When she returned, Amanda held out an unmarked envelope.

Colleen opened it to find a short stack of bills. "Thirty dollars? Why are you giving me this?"

"Well, I suppose it's not so much giving it as returning it..." Amanda let out a huff, annoyed with herself. This was not professional at all. Just because she was delivering unpleasant news didn't mean she had to act like a ninny. It's just that she'd never had to do this before, and she knew how much this would disappoint the couple who, if not family, had certainly become very good friends. But rules were rules. "It's a refund of your graduation fee. You won't be graduating this year."

Colleen's confusion switched to alarm. "What do you mean I won't be graduating?"

"There must be some mistake," Andrew protested before Amanda could respond. "Colleen's met every requirement. Two years of courses, her years of practical training, her thesis... surely no one has been questioning her moral or mental fitness to be a doctor." Rachel Bodley had recently reminded the faculty of this requirement for graduation, the only one with an element of subjectivity. Any professor had the right to refuse examination to a student if they felt the woman was unsuitable for the profession. Andrew found it rather ludicrous that any matriculant of WMCP could be deemed so unfit, yet he knew the students at Harvard were held to a similar standard, so it wasn't unreasonable for the Woman's College to impose the same regulation.

"I'm afraid it's no mistake, doctor. Colleen has met every requirement except for one. She's not yet twenty-one years old." Amanda didn't want to look at the distressed young woman, but it felt rude to continue speaking as if she wasn't there. "I know how much you were looking forward to graduating and returning home to Colorado as a doctor, but you can still come back next year and resubmit for your degree then."

Colleen looked at Andrew sadly. Next year… next year she wouldn't need to return for her degree – at least, that was the plan. However, the plan hadn't been divulged to Amanda or anyone else associated with the school per Harvard's stipulation that Colleen not promote her forthcoming attendance. Now, though… Colleen bit her lip to prevent herself from spilling the beans, staring down at the cash to avoid eye contact with Amanda.

"Yes, well… thank you for telling us in private," Andrew said in response after an awkward pause. He knew exactly what Colleen was thinking. If she earned her M.D. at Harvard, she wouldn't need one from WMCP - and it was paining his wife not to be able to share that information with the woman who was not only their landlady, but one of their closest friends in Philly. "If you'll excuse us, I think we'll turn in early. Good night, Amanda."

"Good night." Amanda didn't begrudge her tenants for wanting to be alone – had anticipated it, in fact. She had just been the bearer of bad news, and why would they wish to remain in her company? They would need time to process the fact that Colleen wouldn't be proudly returning to her hometown a fully-fledged doctor, and that rather than working together as equals, Colleen would undergo another year of interning instead - valuable experience, to be sure, but it wouldn't be the same. And, at some point, they would also realize the need to notify her family that there was no reason to attend the commencement ceremony they'd been looking forward to.

With a sigh, Amanda began clearing the dinner table as Colleen and Andrew made their way upstairs. The young medical student was grateful Andrew had thought of an excuse to avoid further discussion with Amanda. Everything she had dreamed of had suddenly fallen apart, and her emotions were a jumble.

Colleen waited until Andrew closed the door to their room before blurting out her frustration. "It's so unfair. Why did they accept me in the first place if I wasn't going to be old enough to graduate?"

"They must have assumed you intended to matriculate for three years rather than two," Andrew replied evenly, having asked himself the very same question and coming up with the only possible answer. He rested his hands on Colleen's shoulders to try to calm her. "You can't blame the trustees for not knowing you had a different timetable in mind."

Colleen looked down at the money still clasped in her hands. He was right, of course. It made no difference to the board how long it took a student to fulfill the requirements for graduation, and three years (or more) certainly wasn't unheard of. She only had to recall her former classmate Mary Beth Sullivan, who, having had to withdraw after a year for lack of funds, certainly wasn't going to finish in two. Still, it didn't fully ease the hurt of her plans going so awry. "Ma will be so disappointed."

I bet you are, too, thought Andrew, knowing how much it meant to both mother and daughter to graduate from the same alma mater. On the other hand, he himself wasn't particularly disheartened by this turn of events, probably because he'd already steeled himself that this wouldn't be the end of Colleen's schooling. "Temporarily, perhaps, but it's not like you won't be graduating at all, darling," he said aloud, reminding her of the big picture and using his term of endearment to try to further boost her spirits. Andrew enveloped her in a hug. "One way or another, next year you'll be earning your medical degree and reciting the Hippocratic oath. You'll be a doctor."

Again, he was right, leaving Colleen little choice but to latch onto her husband's optimism. She was so glad he was here to support her and pick her back up whenever she was feeling discouraged. "And then we can work together."

"Absolutely." He placed a soft kiss on her forehead. "But before that happens, you have some studying to do. You might not be graduating this year, but that doesn't mean you should ignore your final exams."

"But you told Amanda we were turning in early."

"We're allowed to change our minds. Besides, it will mend fences with her if we go back down and show her there's no hard feelings."

Colleen slipped from his hold to put the cash – now unexpected spending money – into a drawer. "I wish we could tell Amanda about Harvard," she said as she rejoined him.

"I know, darling. So do I."

:

Everything was set. Flowers decorated the tables and chairs had been aligned in neat rows. A set of risers faced the audience seating, with a podium stationed front and center. The musicians had set up in a corner and had begun playing tunes to entertain the arriving guests.

Before the ceremony began, the graduates posed for the class photograph. There had been some small debate at a student meeting a few weeks prior over whether or not to don caps and gowns. A few girls thought they should, as that's what their male counterparts had adopted for their commencement ceremonies. Most of the other girls, however, had objections. Some thought that the shapeless attire would make them seem as mannish and sexless as their critics proclaimed them to be, hiding their femininity, while others wondered what was the point of wearing one's best that day if one's best wasn't going to be seen? A secret ballot was taken, and the caps and gowns lost.

Since she wasn't graduating, Colleen didn't much care one way or the other about the graduation attire, though she did care about missing out on the photo. She'd have no record of her time in Philadelphia other than her class notes and exam scores. And her memories, of course. But there wasn't any use fretting about it, so she threw herself into helping Amanda and the first-year girls setting up for today's occasion and acting as hostesses, greeting guests and exchanging pleasantries, discovering who was related or connected to whom. Hannah Jacobs' father had made the trip from New York. Deborah Williams' family could not be present, but Pastor Allen and his wife were there to support their congregant. The board of trustees were all in attendance, along with their spouses. Some former professors were present, too, including Dr. Brandt, as well as a number of alumni to welcome the newest members into their unique sisterhood. Current faculty members, including Andrew, were making the rounds, waiting for the ceremony to begin.

Colleen had wired her family in Colorado Springs and her relatives in Boston, informing them of her situation. It came as a small surprise, then, when two familiar faces approached her.

"Grandma? Aunt Rebecca?"

"Hello, Colleen." The women exchanged hugs.

"Didn't you get my telegram? I'm not graduating today. I'm not old enough."

"Yes, we know," said Rebecca with a kind smile.

"We considered remaining in Boston an extra day but decided not to let a little technicality spoil our plans," Elizabeth explained. "It was more important to be here with you."

Colleen was touched by their thoughtfulness. "I'm glad you're here."

"Where's Andrew?"

"Right here," he announced, stepping forward. He'd spotted the women with Colleen and had excused himself from the guests he'd been conversing with. He exchanged pleasantries with Colleen's relatives, then noticed the graduating class assembling up on the risers. "Excuse me. The faculty are expected up front."

Elizabeth let out a sigh as Andrew left their company. "The faculty. My, he's certainly come a long way in a short time, hasn't he?"

Everyone found their seats, and the board president, Mr. Perot, made his opening remarks, followed by an invocation. Then Dean Bodley joined him at the podium, and one by one read aloud the names of the graduating class, introducing each of them with their new title as they were handed a rolled parchment symbolizing their achievement. Dr. Frances Carpenter... Dr. Marie Evans… Dr. Hannah Jacobs… Dr. Clara Marshall… Dr. Margaret Pearce… Dr. Jennie Trout… Dr. Deborah Williams.

Colleen smiled and applauded as the names of her friends were read aloud, truly happy for them. They had worked long and hard for this day, and it wasn't their fault she wasn't up there with them. It was nobody's fault.

Once the graduates were back in their places, Perot sat down, for it was time for the recitation of the Hippocratic Oath.

"I will follow that system of regimen which, according to my ability and judgment, I consider for the benefit of my patients. Into whatever houses I enter, I will go into them for the benefit of the sick and will abstain from every corruption. With purity and holiness, I will pass my life and practice my art."

Rachel Bodley returned to the podium. "It is customary for the valedictory address to be given by a member of the faculty. This year the honor has been given to our most junior member. After graduating top of his class from Harvard Medical School, Dr. Andrew Cook chose to practice on the frontier, in the Colorado Territory. He worked closely with one of our own graduates, Dr. Michaela Quinn, for two years before returning east. He performed a great service to the Woman's Medical College by stepping in as Professor of Anatomy on very short notice. Dr. Cook has acquitted himself admirably in that role, and I know today's graduates will forever be grateful for his guidance and instruction. Personal commitments preclude him from remaining with the college, however, so it was decided to grant him this chance to say a few words. Dr. Cook."

The crowd greeted Andrew with polite applause. When the time had come weeks ago to choose which member of the faculty to give the address, Andrew had been completely caught off guard, as he had fully expected the task to go to someone with more seniority. The other faculty members had explained that yes, that was their usual practice, but seeing as how he wasn't going to be around long enough to become a senior member, they were giving him the opportunity now. It was an assignment he couldn't refuse, even when Benjamin Wilson had joked that the "real" reason Andrew had been picked was to let the other faculty members "off the hook" for a change.

Andrew had thought long and hard about what to say, starting and stopping many drafts. Finally, he decided to keep it simple, recognizing the college's history in educating women for the medical profession, something everyone in attendance could appreciate.

"Thank you, Miss Bodley, for your kind introduction. I offer my congratulations to today's graduates. Yesterday, you were but students. Today you are welcomed as colleagues. Armed with what you have learned these last years I know you will strive to offer the best of care and most sincere comfort to your patients and will acquit yourselves admirably as an alumnus of the Woman's Medical College. I've had the good fortune to work with several of this school's alumni since my own commencement from medical school, and I have found each and every one of them to be dedicated, knowledgeable doctors, in the finest tradition of the profession, practicing their art. They are no less capable a doctor than the men I matriculated with at Harvard. And you, the women graduating today, are no less capable than your counterparts at other medical schools who are receiving their degrees this year.

"While today is about moving forward, I would be remis if I did not acknowledge the history of this auspicious occasion. A quarter of a century has passed since the founding of the institution that produced today's graduates. Then, and for many years afterwards, a woman wishing to become a physician was seen by most as an aberration. Today, although it has become increasingly accepted by modern society, it is still viewed by some individuals as unnatural and against a woman's inherent place in the order of things. Yet do we not rely on mothers to tend to our children? Why, then, should not women be as qualified educationally as she is naturally, to administer to all our ill and infirm children? Why should not women be suitable, and qualified, to administer to the diseases common to everyone as they grow into adulthood, and those diseases particular to her sex? All she needs is the opportunity to learn the fundamentals and practicalities of such care.

"The Woman's Medical College of Pennsylvania has provided such an opportunity for twenty-five years and will continue to do so, so long as there is the desire among the populace for well-educated physicians, and so long as other avenues of instruction remain inaccessible to women wishing to make medicine their life's work." Here Andrew paused to catch Colleen's eye. It was the only acknowledgement he could give of her forthcoming effort to open one of those avenues. After their private exchange, he concluded with, "I know everyone here today remains committed such a just cause, and on behalf of the faculty of the Women's Medical College of Pennsylvania, I thank you for your continued support of the women assembled here today, and those who will follow in the years to come."

Andrew paused again. The moment had arrived.

"And now, I think I've tried your patience long enough. Ladies and Gentlemen, please join me in congratulating the Woman's Medical College of Pennsylvania graduating class of eighteen seventy-five."

As the applause died down, the graduates dispersed around the hall, exchanging hugs with loved ones and introducing friends to family, and vice versa. The musicians resumed playing. Hors d'oeuvres, cake, and lemonade were available as refreshments as the graduates and their guests mingled about.

"Andrew." Andrew turned to see Rachel Bodley and Emeline Cleveland approaching he and Colleen. "We just wanted to say that it's been a pleasure working with you, and we wish you and Colleen the best," said Rachel.

"Thank you. I've enjoyed my time here. It's been very educational in more ways than one."

"We also wanted you to know that even in the short time you've been here, you've had a lasting impact," said Emeline. "Not only on the students, but the college as well."

Rachel added, "Being able to say we've had a Harvard alumnus among the faculty has brought in some new donors. You've helped to reinforce the idea that women doctors are not a curiosity but should be taken seriously."

Andrew was pleased to hear it. "I'm glad I could help. And who knows," he continued, exchanging a brief look with Colleen, "perhaps one day you'll have another Harvard graduate on staff, and it will be a woman."

"May we all live to see the day," Emeline agreed with a rare smile. "Be well, Andrew, Colleen."

They all shook hands. "You, too."

The two women left, and Colleen turned to Andrew, puzzled. "They didn't say anything about me coming back next year to graduate."

"I, uh, I told them about Boston," he confessed sheepishly.

"Andrew!" A few heads turned in their direction, and Andrew guided his wife off to the side for a little privacy.

"I had to, Colleen. After everything I've done to support your ambition, how would it have looked if I hadn't promised to bring you back next year for your degree? Or worse, had made such a promise, then broken it without any explanation? So, I told them about… our plans, and the terms we agreed to not to publicize your attendance. They agreed to keep our confidence."

Faced with his explanation, Colleen's tension ebbed. Andrew was a good, moral man, and she understood how he'd had no choice but to confide in the two women. "If they know, then I want to tell Amanda."

Andrew gave a curt nod of agreement. "We'll do it tomorrow before we leave."

"Hey, Colleen, Andrew."

Colleen spun around at the male voice. "Brian?" It was part astonished greeting, part bewildered question, for this was not the kid brother she'd left two years ago. She and Brian had been evenly matched the last time she'd seen him. This Brian was taller, about Matthew's height, but it was the same familiar grin on his face.

"Sorry I'm late. I wanted to be here for the ceremony, but my train-"

"Oh, Brian!" Overcome with emotion, Colleen didn't let him finish, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug.

"It's good to see you too," Brian teased, hugging her back.

She pulled away and looked up at him. "What are you doing here? I mean, I'm really glad you're here, but didn't anyone tell you I wasn't graduating?"

"They told me. But I figured you could use some cheering up, so I asked Ma and Sully if I could come here anyway."

"Ma agreed to let you come by yourself?"

"Not at first, but Sully said they'd talk it over, and the next day she said it would be all right if it was all right with my professors. I told them I had received some bad news about my sister, and that I could do my assignments while I was away, and they agreed I could miss a few weeks."

"You lied to your professors?" asked Andrew.

"I didn't lie, exactly. I just didn't say what the bad news was."

Andrew knew he should be bothered by Brian's deception but was impressed nevertheless by the boy's ingenuity.

"Brian, what a pleasant surprise," said Elizabeth, as she and Rebecca joined the siblings. "I almost didn't recognize you. You've grown so tall."

"Hi, Grandma, Aunt Rebecca." Brian repeated his story for their benefit before asking, "Is there anything more to eat besides appetizers and cake?"

"We planned to go out tonight for an early supper with Amanda. She has to stay and make sure everything's put back in order, and we didn't want her to have to cook tonight," Andrew explained. "I suggest you have some cake to tide you over if you can't hold out."

Brian immediately headed for the refreshments table, prompting the others to laugh.

:

Later, as promised, they all went out to dinner, Brian describing his college classes and professors at Colorado Seminary, comparing notes with Colleen, who had attended the same institution two years prior. Andrew, seated on Colleen's other side, and Rebecca, seated next to Brian, were listening politely, leaving Amanda to strike up a side conversation with Elizabeth.

"This was so good of Brian, to come all this way for his sister," Amanda remarked.

"They went through so much together when they were younger, it's not surprising that they have a close bond. It's good to see that hasn't changed as they've grown and gone their separate ways," the older woman remarked, thinking of her own surviving daughters, now scattered about, with two of them estranged from the other two.

"They were very fortunate your daughter was willing to adopt them. I can understand why Colleen was inspired to follow in her footsteps."

"Yes, it is rather ironic. If I had had my way, Michaela would have found a husband and made a home in Boston," Elizabeth replied amusedly. "And yet as fate would have it, that is precisely what Colleen will be doing."

Amanda frowned. "I beg your pardon?"

"You mean they haven't told you?" Elizabeth glanced across the table at the young couple. Colleen was still animatedly chatting with Brian. "Oh, dear, I just assumed that they would have at least told you of their move to Boston after their respite in Colorado Springs."

"Oh… I see."

"Please don't be upset that they haven't told you. Colleen and Andrew have… well, let's say they've made certain promises, and they must feel that anything less is a breach of their agreement. I assure you, Amanda, it's nothing personal."

"Yes, of course," Amanda replied calmly, though her anger was starting to build. After all the assurances Andrew had made that he supported his wife's ambition, only to discover that it was all a sham! And Mrs. Quinn's visits were all for show! For it seemed now that there was never any intention for the young Mrs. Cook to practice medicine, even with a degree – instead, she and her husband were committed to making a home and family in Boston. Whether the commitment was to her side of the family or his hardly mattered. No wonder the couple hadn't made any promises to return next year! Though Colleen appeared to be bearing it well, helping out earlier today and presently enjoying her brother's company. Perhaps it was a tonic for her, a welcome distraction from the disappointment – and Amanda was doubly glad young Brian was here to cheer his sister. What sadness must Colleen be feeling in private, to have worked so hard, and it all be for naught?

:

The following morning the Cooks went down for their last breakfast with Amanda. Their trunks were all packed, awaiting the carriage they'd arranged to take them to the station where they would meet up with Brian, Elizabeth, and Rebecca.

"Amanda, there's something we haven't told you yet," Colleen began once they were all seated. Amanda looked up from her plate, having been very quiet this morning, which Colleen had chalked up to the woman dreading saying goodbye. "When you suggested that I return next year to get my degree, I couldn't promise that I would. There's a reason I couldn't promise."

"Yes, I know," Amanda said calmly. Her anger was mostly gone, replaced by disappointment.

"You do?" Colleen asked, bewildered, exchanging a glance with Andrew.

"Elizabeth let it slip yesterday during dinner. She thought you had already told me of your promise to make a home in Boston."

"'Promise' is a strange word to describe it, but yes, Colleen and I will be in Boston after our vacation with her family," said Andrew.

"What word would you use, Dr. Cook? Commitment? Agreement? Obligation?" Amanda couldn't help but allow the anger to surface. "You sat in my office two years ago and told me you were committed to seeing Colleen earn her degree. You told me you admired her ambition to become a doctor. And it was all a lie! You couldn't promise me that you would return because you knew all along she wouldn't be practicing medicine!"

Andrew exchanged a look with Colleen, equally as perplexed as he. "Amanda, I don't know what Mrs. Quinn said last night, but I can assure you this is all a misunderstanding."

"The only promise we made was to not tell anyone that I'm going to Harvard Medical School next year," said Colleen.

It took Amanda a second to digest what Colleen had said. "Harvard Medical School? You're going to Harvard Medical School?"

"Yes, as a transfer student, for a third year. I have to audit the course, but they've promised if I pass the final exam, they'll give me a diploma. I won't have to come back here to get my degree."

"And they made us promise not to publicize her attendance less it brings shame and disgrace upon the hallowed halls," Andrew added with a touch of sarcasm.

"Harvard Medical School," Amanda repeated in a daze. "Oh, Colleen… Dr. Cook… I… I must apologize for my outburst…"

"There's no need, Amanda," Colleen soothed. "You didn't know all the facts."

"Rachel and Emeline also know why we don't plan on returning next year," Andrew added. "They've agreed not to discuss it with anyone. And we hope to keep it that way."

"Oh, yes, of course, doctor. I won't discuss it with Jane, or anyone else… though I'm glad to hear you told Miss Bodley and Dr. Cleveland. I imagine they were just as disappointed as I was when you wouldn't commit to returning."

"That's why I told them," Andrew confirmed before glancing at the clock. "Well, now that that's out of the way, we'd better finish breakfast or we'll miss our train."

A short time later, it was time to go. Amanda had opted not to accompany them to the train station. It was easier to say goodbye here, in front of her humble home.

Andrew helped the driver load the trunks while the two women said their farewells.

"We'll miss you, Amanda," Colleen said with a warm hug. "But I hope we can visit you sometime during the Centennial and tell you all about… you know what," Colleen whispered the last part.

"That'd be wonderful," Amanda agreed.

Andrew came over to offer a handshake. "Thank you for opening your home to us, Amanda."

"I don't know which I'll miss more, your company or your rent payment," the older woman joked, making the moment more lighthearted. She'd be able to afford to fix the place up a little now, but on a personal level was sorry to see the doctor and his wife leave. They had become almost like a surrogate family to her, even if she never could bring herself to call the doctor by his first name. "I hope you have a safe trip home… Andrew."

Andrew smiled a boyish grin, pleased she had dropped the formality at last, and gave a curt nod. "Be well, Mrs. Perling." Andrew turned to help Colleen into the carriage before stepping in himself and closing the door.

"Bye," Colleen called and waved from the window right as the driver urged the horse to begin its journey.

Andrew took Colleen's hand in his, squeezing it lightly.

They were headed home.

:

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Author's Notes:

-The Beecher–Tilton scandal made national headlines. Victoria Woodhall had first publicized the affair between Henry Ward Beecher and Elizabeth Tilton in 1872, but Beecher's standing was such that few believed he could do anything wrong, and Theodore Tilton was later made out to be the bad guy for besmirching Beecher's reputation. Tilton eventually filed a civil suit. The trial lasted six months, but the jury was unable to reach a verdict and Beecher was acquitted.

-From its beginning in 1850, the Woman's Medical College of Pennsylvania (then known as the Female Medical College) required its graduates to "have attained the age of 21 years". The "moral and mental" fitness regulation was added later. It's possible these rules were modeled after Harvard Medical School, which also required its graduates to be at least 21, along with having "good moral character".

- "There had been some small debate..." – This is true. I don't know the particulars of the cap & gown debate so used my imagination for reasons why the students rejected the ceremonial outfit. According to archived records, WMCP graduates finally changed their minds in the late 1890s.

-"It is customary for the valedictory address to be given by a member of the faculty." – This is true. In 1875, the speech was given by the actual Professor of Anatomy, Dr. Mary Scarlett-Dixon, class of 1857 (who, as I belatedly discovered, served as both Professor and Demonstrator of anatomy early in her career - just as I had Andrew do!). In her address, Dr. Scarlett-Dixon touched on the 25 years the WMCP had been in existence, and the struggles of women studying to become doctors. Since I had Andrew usurp her position for the story, it seemed only right that his address mirror hers (though his is much shorter!). Also, the graduation really was held in the Horticultural Hall built for the Centennial in Fairmount Park. Sadly, the building later fell into disrepair and was torn down in 1955.