send it up to you with the room service attendant. May we get you anything else?"
I took a deep breath and tried to compose myself. No one knew I was here. I had no friends in Bath. It must be the position....
"Yes Arthur that would be most kind." I responded, "And a pot of tea, some tea would be wonderful. Thank you."
I sat nervously waiting for the correspondence from the front desk. I looked at my watch. It was ten AM. The mail could not have arrived this early. Settle down, you’re getting ahead of yourself. Maybe it’s bad news from the University? My mind was spinning in gloom.
There was a rap on my door. I opened it, and the room service boy entered with my tea. I motioned toward the only table in my modest room. He placed the room service tea set on the table.
There, next to the tea set sat a silver tray that cradled a simple white envelope. Silver, how nice, but silver, how unusual . I thought.
His mission complete the silent boy backed out the door and closed it behind himself. I poured some tea without taking my eyes from the envelope. I seated myself and pick it off the tray as if it were an historical document. On the front, in the most precise and ornate script it read, Miss Sybil Smith, C/O The Old Abbey Hotel, Bath Spa
I turned the envelope over, and on the back of the envelope, embossed words - Lady Julia Sweeten-Roseau, Brighten Manor and a wax seal. I brought the envelope closer to my eyes. The seal was made of red wax and pressed by heat to insure privacy.
A note made only by the eyes of the sender and directed for only those of the addressee. I thought. I felt suddenly special, and also a bit nervous.
Imbedded in the Manor Crest was a scripted loop of a heart at the top of the crest that was connected a duplicative inverted heart looped at the bottom. The center of the crest held the initials J S R .
I opened the envelope slowly, careful to insure as little damage to the linen paper. The note was penned in the same exquisite scrip as that of the address:
My Dear Miss Smith,
Lady Julia is in receipt of you petition for employment as a servant to Brighten Manor, and as a personal assistant. The Lady finds your written response acceptable and worthy of an interview. Lady Sweeten-Roseau's man servant will be dispatched this day with instructions to collect you at your hotel at promptly two pm. Your return transportation will be provided.
The note was straightforward and it left little room for noncompliance with the instructions. I sipped my tea thinking. What did you expect Sybil? Did you think that the note would warrant some gushing review?
I continued to work on the remainder of my tea while rehearsing my interview performance in my mind. I gave up assuming any presumptuous dialogue or adopting some phony persona.
Just be yourself Sybil . I thought. Just tell the Lady that you will do your best. No. Tell the Lady that you will do whatever she wants you to do. Anything, just make her happy with your service to her. You need this job.
At exactly two PM, as instructed, I waited, fidgeting nervously in the lobby of the Old Abbey Hotel. What does it mean to be collected? Is it like someone will pick me up? Will they send a taxi for me?
I stood and began pacing. Maybe I misunderstood the note. Suddenly, I felt a presence behind me. I turned and stood facing a tall slender man. A handsome man he was, fiftyish and dressed in a formal chauffeur’s uniform, his drivers cap clutched smartly under his arm.
He spoke softly. "Miss Smith?"
"Yes, I'm Sybil Smith, and you are?"
"Madison DeChain, my name is Madison. I am your driver from the Manor at Brighten. My instructions were to collect you for an appointment this afternoon with Lady Julia Sweeten-Roseau."
The tall attractive man presented a card with his name engraved on it along with the same ornate two-hearted Crest. He bowed slightly toward me. I took the card.
"Well Madison, you can call me Sybil, and if you lead the way I'll happily
I took a deep breath and tried to compose myself. No one knew I was here. I had no friends in Bath. It must be the position....
"Yes Arthur that would be most kind." I responded, "And a pot of tea, some tea would be wonderful. Thank you."
I sat nervously waiting for the correspondence from the front desk. I looked at my watch. It was ten AM. The mail could not have arrived this early. Settle down, you’re getting ahead of yourself. Maybe it’s bad news from the University? My mind was spinning in gloom.
There was a rap on my door. I opened it, and the room service boy entered with my tea. I motioned toward the only table in my modest room. He placed the room service tea set on the table.
There, next to the tea set sat a silver tray that cradled a simple white envelope. Silver, how nice, but silver, how unusual . I thought.
His mission complete the silent boy backed out the door and closed it behind himself. I poured some tea without taking my eyes from the envelope. I seated myself and pick it off the tray as if it were an historical document. On the front, in the most precise and ornate script it read, Miss Sybil Smith, C/O The Old Abbey Hotel, Bath Spa
I turned the envelope over, and on the back of the envelope, embossed words - Lady Julia Sweeten-Roseau, Brighten Manor and a wax seal. I brought the envelope closer to my eyes. The seal was made of red wax and pressed by heat to insure privacy.
A note made only by the eyes of the sender and directed for only those of the addressee. I thought. I felt suddenly special, and also a bit nervous.
Imbedded in the Manor Crest was a scripted loop of a heart at the top of the crest that was connected a duplicative inverted heart looped at the bottom. The center of the crest held the initials J S R .
I opened the envelope slowly, careful to insure as little damage to the linen paper. The note was penned in the same exquisite scrip as that of the address:
My Dear Miss Smith,
Lady Julia is in receipt of you petition for employment as a servant to Brighten Manor, and as a personal assistant. The Lady finds your written response acceptable and worthy of an interview. Lady Sweeten-Roseau's man servant will be dispatched this day with instructions to collect you at your hotel at promptly two pm. Your return transportation will be provided.
The note was straightforward and it left little room for noncompliance with the instructions. I sipped my tea thinking. What did you expect Sybil? Did you think that the note would warrant some gushing review?
I continued to work on the remainder of my tea while rehearsing my interview performance in my mind. I gave up assuming any presumptuous dialogue or adopting some phony persona.
Just be yourself Sybil . I thought. Just tell the Lady that you will do your best. No. Tell the Lady that you will do whatever she wants you to do. Anything, just make her happy with your service to her. You need this job.
At exactly two PM, as instructed, I waited, fidgeting nervously in the lobby of the Old Abbey Hotel. What does it mean to be collected? Is it like someone will pick me up? Will they send a taxi for me?
I stood and began pacing. Maybe I misunderstood the note. Suddenly, I felt a presence behind me. I turned and stood facing a tall slender man. A handsome man he was, fiftyish and dressed in a formal chauffeur’s uniform, his drivers cap clutched smartly under his arm.
He spoke softly. "Miss Smith?"
"Yes, I'm Sybil Smith, and you are?"
"Madison DeChain, my name is Madison. I am your driver from the Manor at Brighten. My instructions were to collect you for an appointment this afternoon with Lady Julia Sweeten-Roseau."
The tall attractive man presented a card with his name engraved on it along with the same ornate two-hearted Crest. He bowed slightly toward me. I took the card.
"Well Madison, you can call me Sybil, and if you lead the way I'll happily
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