Fortune's rocks_ a novel - Anita Shreve [144]
Tucker is silent for a moment. “I am sorry that the past has burdened you so, Miss Biddeford,” he says with evident concern, “and yet I confess I am honored to be the recipient of these closely held truths.”
Olympia touches her mouth with her napkin. “I am not usually this priggish,” she says quickly. “Please continue with your story. You have whetted my curiosity.”
“Well, it is a grim tale altogether. The infants were taken from the girls at birth and given to the orphanage. In those days, such infants made up the bulk of the population of the orphanage and were largely the reason for its existence. But not all of the girls were in such dire straits. Some were merely thought, because of excessively high spirits, to be troublesome to their families.”
“And the families had them put away because of this?”
“Yes, with the idea that the girls would then be ‘broken’ — like horses, I suppose. The discipline was quite severe. The girls were forced to take vows of silence, as the members of the order themselves had.” He pauses. “It beggars the imagination.”
“I am dismayed, Mr. Tucker, to think of my father’s house being used in this manner. I had envisioned something altogether different, something rather more peaceful and contemplative.”
“Quite.”
The waiter brings the next course, which is the turkey. “The scandal came to light when one young woman, who had been committed by her guardian for ‘wanton and lascivious behavior,’ accused a priest of assaulting her and took him to court,” Tucker continues. “Before the case was settled, it was discovered that the priest — whose name has been stricken from the records, I might add — had been physically examining the young women to ascertain if they were . . .” Tucker pauses. Olympia can see that he is blushing. “It is impossible to put this delicately,” he says. “According to the results of this examination, the girls were then segregated on the theory that those who were seen to be less than . . . intact . . . might corrupt the innocents.”
“I see.”
“The case was settled out of court. And as part of the settlement, the church agreed to close the house down. The nuns, most of them of course blameless, were moved into Ely Falls. The two sisters who collaborated with the priest were sent back to Canada. As you are doubtless aware, the Sisters of the Order of Saint Jean Baptiste de Bienfaisance now have a remarkable record of good works, many at considerable sacrifice. And they no longer keep vows of silence as they once used to do.”
“Not very practical.”
“No. Quite. Indeed, the silence was seen in retrospect to have allowed the molestation to continue.”
“And what happened to the girls?”
“There is no mention of that in the records.”
Olympia tries to imagine their fate. “Would their families have taken them back in?” she asks.
“I do not know.”
“I see. The oysters were delicious, by the way,” she says.
He smiles. “You have an appetite, Olympia Biddeford.”
Somewhat abashed, she smooths the napkin in her lap. “That is the second time I have heard that said of me this fall,” she says.
“It is an admirable quality, your considerable appetite,” Tucker says. “I cannot bear women who feel obliged to appear delicate in their constitutions, when, in fact, they are not. Most women must eat as regularly and as heartily as men. And why should a woman not enjoy her food? Indeed, it is one of life’s greater pleasures, do you not think?”
He waits until the waiter has left them. “Miss Biddeford, there are some matters which we must discuss,” he says. “If I could, I would delay mentioning such unpleasant subjects forever, but clearly I cannot if we are to proceed with your suit. But I should like to say before I begin that I am thoroughly enjoying your