With these thoughts in mind, I hope you will give a close reading to the enclosed brochure from the Riverview Convalescent Home. The accommodations appear quite comfortable and the dining and recreation areas most inviting. I could wish no better life for you than the security and convenience of a hotel, with all the details of daily life organized by other people.
My father is in full agreement with me, and though at first glance the cost seems greater than the monthly support he has been providing, we both feel confident that the proceeds from the sale of your house will come close to making up the difference.
Affectionately,
Bess
Mr. and Mrs. Robert Randolph Steed
request the pleasure of your company
at a dinner dance
Saturday, November the fifth
at eight o’clock
in the Grand Ballroom of the Jefferson Hotel
R.S.V.P. Black tie
Suite 10D Jefferson Hotel
November 10, 1917
St. Louis
Dear Lydia and Manning,
I am enclosing the front page of the society section from last Sunday’s paper so you can see for yourself the full coverage our party received. It was the social event of the week (and indeed, in my opinion, of the season so far). I feel I can say without a doubt now that everyone in St. Louis who matters knows who we are.
The dance floor was filled with young men in uniform. A few years ago the sight would have thrilled me but now I could only think of the horrors ahead of them. Though not in uniform—thank God—Rob has become a war hero here through his energetic leadership in the war bond campaign. It is even said that his efforts have not gone unnoticed in Washington.
Fondly,
Bess
January 8, 1918
St. Louis
Dear Papa and Mavis,
My first letter of the New Year! What would we do without a calendar to give our lives a sense of progression? Perhaps it is only an illusion but I look upon my life as a staircase, with each year taking me up another step toward some unknown but enticing destination.
Spending Christmas with you in Honey Grove left us full of longing for times and places now lost to us. I relived the happy holidays of my childhood, and the children finally understood the full loss of the fire, talking about the house and recalling for the first time, or at least the first time aloud, much-loved objects they will never see again.
I am meeting with a real-estate agent this afternoon to start my search for a new house. I realize now that we have all been acting like rejected lovers, protecting ourselves from future hurt by pretending we were happier without a home. As convenient as it would be to declare our independence of material possessions, we cannot escape the fact that we are body and soul, and both require shelter. Nor am I convinced that the two are at odds with each other and that to deny one is to satisfy the other. I find my spirit strangely appeased when my eye encounters beautiful forms, my nose discovers a familiar fragrance, my ear hears music, my tongue savors a new taste, and my fingers touch beloved objects.
I know now that to live in a hotel as we have done these past few months is to relinquish authority over the exterior of our lives. We all have the power—at least for a moment—to shape our environment, and how wrong of us to ignore this privilege just because it is fleeting. We must accept the fact that nothing we create belongs to us forever and let the act of creation be its own reward.
As you can see, I have had to travel a long path in my own mind to have the courage to buy another house and make it our own. I am still not strong enough to consider the possibility of building one; somehow I find comfort in the thought of occupying a house where strangers lived in safety.
All my love,
Bess
February 1, 1918
St. Louis
Miss Abigail Saunders
Director
Riverview Convalescent Home
Syracuse, New York
Dear Miss Saunders,
I would like to reserve a private room in the name of Josephine Farrow. Her arrival is contingent upon the sale of her home, which has just gone on the market, so it is impossible to set a definite date at this time. However, I am enclosing a substantial deposit, which I trust will compensate for any inconvenience the indefinite arrival date may cause you.
From the photographs in the brochure, I see that some of the rooms look out on the mountains. Does this add to the price of the room? I am sure my cousin would derive great pleasure from the view—but not if she knew she were paying for it.
I would appreciate a prompt reply from you, confirming this reservation.
Sincerely,
Mrs. Robert
Randolph Steed
February 14, 1918
St. Louis
Dear Heart,
How sad to be apart on Valentine’s Day! That must sound silly coming from a grown woman with three children, but to me it will always be the day on which you first declared yourself.
It was in the fourth grade, shortly after Miss Appleton taught us the meaning of circumnavigation and I decided to make my world in you. In those days there was no difference between us. We were not boy and girl but two creatures totally alike—and set apart from all the rest. Whatever games we played, we were always two of a kind—two explorers, two sailors, two cowboys, two swordsmen. In our Sherwood Forest there were even two Robin Hoods. No Maid Marian for me!
Then you gave me my first Valentine—a banner emblazoned with the crest of Richard the Lion-Hearted. I have never been prouder of any present until today—when I received the stock certificates registered in my name, making me a major stockholder and member of the board of the Midwestern Life Insurance Company. It was another kind of banner. We were equals when we met and it is nice to know marriage has not changed my standing—in your eyes at least.
In your absence I have been occupied looking at houses. I am seeing one this afternoon that sounds most promising. It was built a year ago by a prominent attorney and his wife, but they had only occupied it six months when he died. His widow plans to move to San Francisco. They had no children but many out-of-town visitors, so the house is large and comfortable.
The newspaper carries daily accounts of the war bond drive. It is thrilling to see how much money you are raising. How fortunate for the country that you are too old for the trenches! And how fortunate for me that I have only had to lend my husband to the war effort—and not to lose him. Even so, these long separations are becoming increasingly difficult for me. Are our lives ever to belong to us again? Come when you can, my dearest. The home front is here!
Ever your
Bess
FEBRUARY 15 1918
ST LOUIS
ROBERT STEED
BLACKSTONE HOTEL
CHICAGO ILLINOIS
MY BID ON HOUSE ACCEPTED AM SIGNING PAPERS TO-
MORROW IF YOU OBJECT PLEASE ADVISE IMMEDIATELY
OTHER BUYERS WAITING
BESS
February 20, 1918
St. Louis
Dear Cousin Josie,
I was delighted to get your letter listing the offers for your house, but I am puzzled by your refusal to accept any of them. The last offer in particular came so close to your asking price I do not see how in good conscience you could reject it.
I know you find the idea of bargaining distasteful, but, believe me, it is in no way dishonest to ask a higher price than you expect to get—and in no way a defeat to accept a lower price than you ask. Besides, if you refuse to take a penny less than your asking price, you are depriving the buyer of an important sense of accomplishment. Having just been in this position, I know how essential it is to feel you have saved money when in fact you have just spent a great deal.
We have bought a spacious three-story home in the center of town and will be moving next month. By then I trust you will have sold your house. Fortunately you do not have to worry about what to do with your furniture. From the
first minute I saw it, I felt it was part of my heritage, and I would certainly not want it sentenced to storage in a warehouse. I am convinced everything you own will look perfect in my new home.
I am sure your friends already in residence at the Riverview Home are looking forward to your arrival, and their company should provide a welcome change for you after so many years of living alone. Friends are a great blessing, especially in the absence of immediate family. However, you may count on the continuing affection of your devoted cousin,
Bess
February 28, 1918
St. Louis
Miss Abigail Saunders
Director
Riverview Convalescent Home
Syracuse, New York
My dear Miss Saunders,
This is to notify you that my cousin, Miss Josephine Farrow, has just sold her home and would like to assume occupancy of the private room reserved in her name in two weeks. Since she will only be in residence half the month of March, I assume the usual monthly rate will be prorated accordingly. Please send the bill to me at my new address.
Sincerely,
Mrs. Robert R. Steed
MARCH 12 1918
ST LOUIS
MISS JOSEPHINE FARROW
2514 ELM STREET
SYRACUSE NEW YORK
ADVISE AGAINST DELAYING CLOSE OF ESCROW AM AR-
RIVING THIS WEEKEND TO HELP YOU MOVE PACK ONLY
WHAT YOU WILL TAKE WITH YOU
BESS
March 18, 1918
Syracuse, New York
Dear Papa and Mavis,
I am spending the night in the house where you spent so much of your childhood, Papa. Even here I cannot imagine you as a carefree little boy, but perhaps it is because you never were. I am filled with sadness imagining what it was like for you to lose your mother at the age of eight, and I understand fully for the first time the debt you feel to Cousin Josie and her family. But you have carried it long enough. Now it is my turn. Tomorrow I am accompanying Cousin Josie to the convalescent home where a very comfortable room awaits her. I was there today making the final arrangements.
She was extremely reluctant to put her house on the market and even as late as yesterday had to be coaxed like a child into signing the final papers. I feel she was very fortunate to find a buyer who would meet her price. The house is in need of extensive repairs (a fact I had to point out privately to Cousin Josie). She had always lived here like a tenant, leaving the responsibility and expense of maintaining the house to someone else: first her parents, then you. However, it is solidly built and, with a little work, should provide a splendid home for its new owners and their children, of whom there are five with another on the way.
The furniture is even more magnificent than I remembered. I am having it all shipped to St. Louis, where I trust it will help transform our new house into a home with a sense of family history.
Cousin Josie absolutely refuses to consider making a will. It is an admission of mortality she will not even discuss. However, it is no longer necessary, since, with the furniture, she is repaying all debts, past and future, to me and my family in advance of her death.
You must plan a visit to St. Louis soon to see us in our new home.
Much love,
Bess
March 20, 1918
TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN:
On this date Josephine Farrow of Syracuse, New York, turns over all title to furnishings contained in her former residence to her cousin, Elizabeth Alcott Steed, in grateful acknowledgment of the continuous financial and emotional support provided her by the Alcott family.
SIGNED: Josephine Farrow
WITNESS: Abigail Saunders
Director
Riverview Convalescent Home
Addendum: The four-poster bed, which formerly occupied the master bedroom of the Farrow home, will be moved to the Riverview Convalescent Home and remain in the possession of Miss Farrow for as long as she wishes, or until her death, at which time it will become the property of her cousin Elizabeth Alcott Steed.
March 20, 1918
Syracuse, New York
Dear Heart,
I have seen the future and it frightens me. Shakespeare was right about old age. Cousin Josie was as terrified as a child on her first day of school when I left her at the convalescent home this morning. Her room is sunny and comfortable, though not nearly as large as it looked in the brochure. But perhaps that is because it is so completely dominated by the four-poster bed she insisted on bringing with her. The bed has been in her family for generations. She was conceived in it, born in it, and intends to die in it. I would hate to think that my life ended in the same place where it began.
I know now one must plan one’s old age as surely as one plans any other stage of life. The tragedy of Cousin Josie’s life is that she never knew what she wanted at any age—only what she did not want. She never wanted to marry nor to pursue a career, and in life, unlike grammar, double negatives do not produce an affirmative.
I have never been more grateful for my family than I was this morning when I told Cousin Josie good-bye. I tried to convince her that I will always care about her but she just shook her head and continued calling me Mrs. Steed. She has never called me “Cousin” and now I suppose she never will.
I am spending the weekend with the Davises in Connecticut and then Totsie and I are going into New York City for a few days. We plan to share a hotel room, see plays, and pretend we are still schoolgirls with all the world ahead of us. Having begun this trip by facing old age, I shall end it by remembering my youth—an attempt to balance the future with the past before coming home to you, my beloved present.
All my love,
Bess
June 20, 1918
St. Louis
Dearest Totsie,
I came home last March and planted a garden as close to yours as I could manage in our Missouri climate. Everything is in bloom now and I can proclaim the effect a triumph. I became a member of the St. Louis Garden Club in April on the basis of my design for a new garden (though to be frank, membership is based more on social standing than on horticultural talent). I invited the entire membership to an outdoor tea last week, and as a result my social life is now in full flower also.
Rob still spends more time traveling with the war bond campaign than he does at home. Victory appears close but there are still battles to be fought—and financed—and Rob is finding it increasingly difficult to convince people to contribute to a cause that seems so nearly won.
We receive many invitations and I accept all of them, with the warning that my husband’s acceptance is only conditional. If Rob is out of town when the day arrives, I go alone. Fortunately, with so many men away at war in one capacity or another, a woman alone is not the social anathema she once was, and I trust this attitude will not disappear when the war is over.
To be truthful, even when he is at home, Rob prefers to be closeted with a few associates, working for a good cause, than to lend his presence to any social event. Sometimes I wonder what our life will be like after the war. We have traveled in such different directions in the last few years.
Forgive the smudges on this page, but I have just bought myself a typewriter and I am teaching myself how to type. I began by typing only my business correspondence but I have grown very fond of the sound of the keys clacking to accompany my thoughts and now I even type my laundry list. I feel I am functioning as my own secretary and suddenly see my whole life very objectively as an ambitious and well-planned enterprise. I now make carbon copies of everything I write and last week I bought a filing cabinet so that I can keep a permanent record of all my correspondence. It may sound silly, but somehow as a result of my new typewriter, my life has acquired a sense of order and importance it never had before.
Darling Totsie, it is so good to feel as close to you again as I did at college. Since marriage, I have made very few friends purely on the basis of my own delight in them. We must try to see each other more
often—and preferably without our husbands.
It is nearly 4 A.M. now. I must end this and try to sleep. With Rob away, there is never any immediate reason to turn out the light, and I have been surprised more than once in recent weeks by an early sunrise.
Je t’embrasse,
Bess
June 29, 1918
St. Louis
Mr. Marvin Hamilton
Vice-President
Midwestern Life Insurance Company
921 Olive Street
St. Louis, Missouri
Dear Marvin:
Rob will be out of town at the time the next stockholders’ meeting is scheduled so I will be representing both of us.
Enclosed is the proposed agenda you sent me, with an addendum I drew up yesterday detailing some other matters which I feel should be discussed by the entire board. I have not had much to say at meetings since I became a major stockholder but I have listened—and learned. Now in Rob’s absence, I feel I should speak out when the occasion demands and the fall dividend is a topic that greatly concerns me.
Best,
Bess
cc: Robert R. Steed
July 7, 1918
St. Louis
Dear Cousin Josie,
I am glad you liked the lap robe. But you should not have been surprised that I remembered your birthday. There is tangible evidence of you and your family throughout our home now. We eat at the table where you shared so many meals with your mother and father. I am writing this letter at the desk where you so often sat to write me. Our lives have blended now and I would like to think that we are as much a part of yours as you are of ours.