In a Gilded Cage - By Rhys Bowen Page 0,6
were always interested in chemistry, I remember.”
“I was and still am, but my employer resists letting me do anything more than work at the counter, taking the money and wrapping up the prescriptions. I have tried to persuade him to give me a chance to be his apprentice, but he thinks that such work is beyond any woman, even a Vassar graduate.”
“How typical,” Sid said. “What will it take for men to see that we are as capable as they are of rational thought?”
“Let us hope that demonstrations such as this one will begin to change their minds,” Emily said.
“I had hoped for a bigger turnout,” Sid said, looking at the group, which numbered less than twenty. “Frankly, this is a disappointment.”
Emily nodded. “I contacted several friends but they declined. Some thought it was a lost cause. Some thought this was neither the time nor the place for this kind of demonstration, and some husbands or fathers forbade them.”
“Forbade them? Then why did they bother to educate us if they didn’t want us to think for ourselves,” Sid said angrily. “Never mind, we’ll wave our banners proudly and maybe we’ll open a few minds today.”
“I see we are starting to line up,” Emily said. “We had better take our places.”
Emily and I unfurled our banner and held it aloft. She gave me an encouraging smile. “So where were you educated, Miss Murphy?”
“In Ireland. But I wasn’t fortunate enough to go to college like you and your friends. And please call me Molly.”
“Gladly, if you’ll call me Emily. So you’ve recently come from Ireland, have you? With your family?”
“Two years ago and quite alone.”
“And you’ve managed to make your way in New York City? I admire you for that. New York is not a city that is kind to immigrants, so I’ve heard.”
“No, it’s been a struggle at times, but I’ve managed to keep my head above water, with the help of Sid and Gus, who have been so good to me.”
“You are also employed then?”
“I run my own business. A small detective agency.”
Those brown eyes shot open. “A detective agency? How thrilling. But can you actually make a go of it? Do men entrust their secrets to a woman?”
“Sometimes they do. I have just this week concluded an assignment for Mr. Macy.”
“Of department store fame?”
“The very same. And earlier this year I went abroad for Tommy Burke, the theater impresario.”
“Mercy me,” she said. “How I envy you such an exciting life.”
“Sometimes it’s a little too exciting,” I confessed. “I try to take only simple cases but they’ve landed me in hot water more than once. My young man tells me that I’ve used up most of my nine lives.”
“You have a sweetheart too? You are indeed fortunate.”
“Sometimes I dispute that claim as well.” I grinned. “He’s a policeman.”
“Then you can be of assistance to each other in your work. That is ideal, isn’t it, when a couple can share interests and talk as intellectual equals.”
“It is indeed,” I said, deciding to keep quiet about Daniel’s tendency toward chauvinist ideas. “Do you have a young man yourself?”
She blushed prettily. “I do. He works at the same drugstore as I, but he’s studying hard. He’s a real apprentice and Mr. McPherson is teaching him the art of compounding medicines. He’s very good at it too. He has a brilliant brain. It’s a pity his family has no money and that he didn’t have a chance to further his education at a university.”
“You said you are also having to make your own way in the world,” I said. “How did you manage to go to Vassar?”
“Relatives paid for me,” she said, and I saw a trace of annoyance cross her face. “But look, the parade is starting ahead of us. See those carriages moving off?”
We started to walk. The wind tugged at our banners and the effort of holding them aloft made conversation impossible. As we entered Fifth Avenue the crowd became aware of us. I heard some shouts of encouragement as well as some wolf whistles and improper suggestions. “Show us a bit of leg, girlies. You’ll never find yourself a husband dressed like that. Where are your Easter bonnets?”
Among these was a buzz of genuine disapproval. “Women will never get the vote,” one man shouted, stepping out to wave a fist at us. “Over my dead body.”
“That’s what comes of educating women,” another man yelled. “Keep ’em home having babies. That’s their rightful place.”
“Can you imagine what a mess of silliness