One of the happiest parts of planning the wedding was the time Pandora spent with Adele. Pandora didn’t care that much about seating arrangements or which car would transport them to the church. But she loved Adele’s company.
They spent hours together in the morning room at Blythdale. Their conversation moved easily from centerpieces and bridal bouquets to Adele’s involvement with the settlement houses and the women working in factories.
Adele sat on a committee that met monthly at the Grand Street Settlement House to address social issues. The committee was advocating for public restrooms to be installed in the neighborhood and starting a kindergarten so that young children had somewhere to go while their mothers worked. Adele promised she’d take her to a committee meeting when Pandora returned from the honeymoon.
Adele was becoming the mother that Pandora never had. She no longer envied girls like Lillian or Lucy. Just being with Adele made her happy.
Milton Enright was kind to Pandora too. He was so relieved that Harley was joining the bank that nothing was too good for the couple. He insisted on paying for the wedding and wouldn’t take any money from Pandora’s father. Harley and Pandora could honeymoon wherever they liked, and when they returned, they would live at Blythdale until they moved into their own home.
Unlike Lillian, Pandora was in no rush to find a house. She wanted it to be perfect, and looking at estates—the brick mansions that dotted the river between Hyde Park and Poughkeepsie and stone farmhouses that had been added on to since the Civil War—was one of the things she enjoyed most.
And being with Harley, of course. During their engagement, they hadn’t seen each other as much as they wanted. Harley was busy with classes, and Pandora was wrapped up in wedding planning. But they spent hours on the phone. They talked about Harley’s economics professor, who had been one of Woodrow Wilson’s advisors before teaching at Princeton. And about the young British fashion designer Norman Hartnell, who was making a name for himself in London. Her favorite moments, better than the trips to the bakery in Hyde Park to taste wedding cakes, better than the hours spent with the florist choosing bouquets, were the moments spent on the phone with Harley. Pandora loved hearing Harley’s voice, loved knowing he was thinking about her.
Harley believed in Pandora’s talent, and it made her work even harder. She stayed up all night sketching new designs so she could show them to Harley when she saw him. His praise was better than all the chocolates and flowers he gave her; it made her dreams feel real and important.
One weekend, Harley invited Pandora to Princeton to see Preston’s play. Pandora chose her dress with care; she wanted to make a good impression on Harley’s friends.
She was inspired by the French designer Madeleine Vionnet’s new bias cut, which hugged the waist and skimmed over the thighs. Instead of using a monochrome fabric like Madeleine Vionnet used in her designs, Pandora chose a gold organza patterned with blue butterflies. Virginia said it was Pandora’s prettiest dress.
When Pandora arrived at Princeton, Harley showed her all his favorite spots on campus. They strolled along the banks of Carnegie Lake, and he showed her the lawn in front of Nassau Hall where George Washington pushed back the British during the Revolutionary War. In the afternoon, they shared a picnic in the quad, and Pandora felt radiantly happy.
That evening, Pandora worried that Harley would miss being part of the production. But he seemed to enjoy the play immensely. Afterward, they attended the cast party, and Harley introduced her to everyone as his fiancée. She kept searching for a hint of unhappiness in his manner. But he stood with his arm around her and whispered in her ear that he was the luckiest man in the world.
Now that they were engaged, Pandora longed for their kisses to progress to something more. They were rarely alone, and neither of them felt comfortable necking in the car. She thought they’d get their chance at Princeton. But women weren’t allowed in the rooms, and Harley could get in trouble. For now, they had to be content to continue as they had.
The only blight on her happiness was Archie. Their close camaraderie was gone, and she didn’t know how to get it back. She wanted to talk to Archie about his dreams of becoming a professor, but he hardly spoke to her. At Christmas services, he sat in the pew in front of Pandora and didn’t turn around. Pandora recalled Christmas services when they were teenagers. Archie would draw funny pictures in the hymn book and pass them to Pandora. Pandora would have to bite her lip to stop from bursting out laughing.
She missed Archie; she didn’t know how to get back in his good graces. But she couldn’t ask Harley his opinion, and it wouldn’t be fair to involve Virginia. Pandora told herself it was part of growing up. It was natural that everything was changing, and she had to be grateful for what she had.
Today, Adele and Pandora were going into New York for a dress fitting. At first, Pandora had planned on sewing her wedding dress herself. She envisioned a tulle gown with miles of petticoats that spun around when she danced. Or a satin sheath with lace accents and silver tassels.
But Virginia argued that Pandora’s wedding dress had to come from a bridal salon. Lillian Clarkson had already been to London twice to be outfitted for her gown. If Pandora made her own dress, no matter how beautiful it was, Lillian would likely spread a rumor that Pandora sewed her wedding gown because she couldn’t afford to buy one.
Adele had been thrilled to go dress shopping with Pandora. She pored over fabrics as if she were the bride herself. They finally settled on a scoop-necked crepe de chine gown with a ten-foot lace train. Her gloves would have diamond buttons, and Adele would lend Pandora her diamond earrings.
The car pulled up in front of Lord & Taylor. Adele waited for the chauffeur to open the door. She wore a calf-length pleated skirt and matching jacket, with a fur cape draped over her shoulders, and a cloche hat decorated with a felt flower.
“I’m afraid you’ll be alone tonight; I have to attend Milton’s bank dinner.” Adele stepped onto the sidewalk. “You won’t have to cook, though. The icebox in the townhouse is full, or you can pick up something from the deli on Fifty-First Street.”
Pandora had been to the Enrights’ Park Avenue townhouse a few times before. It was three stories of elegant rooms decorated by the designer Elsie de Wolfe. The first time Pandora entered the living room, done all in white—white rugs, white sofas, even the grand piano was white—she fell in love. She had never seen anything so perfect.
“Virginia is in town; I’ll have dinner with her.”
Virginia had started holding her salons and had been begging Pandora to come. So far, Pandora had refused. She didn’t feel comfortable socializing with Virginia’s circle of bohemian friends. Perhaps it would be different if Harley were with her. It wasn’t the kind of thing she would do alone.
Lord & Taylor featured eleven floors of dresses and shoes and housewares. One floor was devoted entirely to restaurants and there was a gym, solarium, and men’s smoking room. The wedding dress department was tucked into a corner of the sixth floor. The designer, Madame Dupree, was a tiny woman in a severe black dress and large white glasses. A small black poodle followed at her heels. Assistants flitted between the worktable and dressing rooms, balancing silver trays of petite sandwiches on Wedgwood china.