A Woman of Independent Means by Elizabeth Forsythe Hailey Read Free Book Online Page B

now I know that every moment we share further increases my capacity for love.
    The only advantage of being apart is that we are forced to communicate by letter—and to express in words thoughts which might otherwise remain unspoken.
    Goodnight, my love. Sleep well.
    Bess
    AUGUST 18 1917
DALLAS
    ROBERT STEED
LIBERTY LOAN HEADQUARTERS
JEFFERSON HOTEL
ST LOUIS MISSOURI
HOUSE DESTROYED BY FIRE LAST NIGHT EVERYONE SAFE
CHILDREN WITH LYDIA I AM IN BAYLOR WITH DISLO-
CATED VERTEBRAE
    BESS
    Â 
    Â 
    August 19, 1917
Baylor Hospital
Dallas
    Dear Papa and Mavis,
    Don’t be alarmed when you read this letter. We are all safe now. Two nights ago our house burned to the ground. The children—thank God—escaped without physical injury, though we had to jump from a second-story window to avoid the flames.
    Rob was in St. Louis so Mrs. McCullough and I were alone with the children (fortunately Mother Steed was spending the week with Lydia). Mrs. McCullough led the way out the window—followed by Robin and Drew, brave little soldiers that they are. They held hands as they jumped into a net held by firemen, but neither cried till they were safely on the ground. Eleanor was terrified so I held her in my arms and we jumped together. I was so filled with gratitude for our safe escape I didn’t realize how much pain I was in until I was loaded onto a stretcher and taken to the hospital. I have several dislocated vertebrae so I will be here at least a week. Fortunately Rob is with us now. He and the children are staying with Lydia and Manning.
    There is nothing for you to do—except not worry—but it is comforting to know you live so near. I cannot imagine children ever wanting to live at a distance from their parents, even when they are grown with children of their own. Life is too frightening to face without the support of a strong and loving family.
    I will write again in a day or so. There is not much pain now—and my physical discomfort is so outweighed by my gratitude for the escape of my children, I hardly even notice it.
    All my love,
Bess

    August 21, 1917
Baylor Hospital
Dallas
    Dear Mr. Fineman,
    The basket of fruit and delicacies arrived this morning. What a thoughtful gift! Flowers always make me a little sad—their life span is so short. But I will be enjoying your gifts for weeks to come, at home as well as in the hospital. The basket looks like a beautiful bon voyage present, which allows me occasionally to forget my present circumstances and imagine I am in a cabin on a luxury liner, traveling to a new destination.
    I was surprised at the full coverage our fire received in The Dallas News . It was kind of you to send me an extra clipping. I just wish they had included a picture of the house before the fire (I have several excellent ones—they had only to ask) to demonstrate the extent of our loss. Every inch of that house was built to our specifications. We will never find another as perfectly suited to our needs. And building a house is out of the question in wartime.
    For the moment we are at the mercy of friends and family—a position that is new to me and rather uncomfortable. However, I suppose in a larger sense we are all helpless creatures at the mercy of one another, and fate is finally forcing me to accept this fact.
    Whatever sadness I feel at the loss of our home loses significance beside my gratitude for the safe escape of my loved ones. As long as my husband and children are with me, I will have a home, no matter where I happen to be.
    Sincerely,
Bess Steed
    August 24, 1917
Baylor Hospital
Dallas
    Dear Papa and Mavis,
    I am much improved and the doctor says I may go home tomorrow. Home! What a habit that word is. Lydia has insisted we stay with her, at least now while Rob is doing so much traveling. And Rob agrees—he does not want me to be alone with the children.
    Our devoted Annie entered the hospital last night and this morning she and Hans became the proud