“I wanted to see you before the seamstresses come in. I brought the first sampler.”
“But my dear Miss Saltykov, it vas only a veek ago that ve talked about it! You must have been vorking night and day!”
“No, not really. I am very fast, and this one was not difficult.” She took out a paper-wrapped package, undid the string, and took out the sampler. Madame Koska looked at it with admiration. It was intended to teach the women how to create delicate arabesques, which were so much in fashion. Natalya created it in successive steps. The first step was a round spot, about half an inch in diameter, and made from a few concentric circles that were shaped from small, bright red beads. The second step showed two more circles surrounding the red one, but in white. The third step showed how a line could be shaped from one more circle, done with glowing green beads; the line turned softly and gracefully into the shape of an arabesque. The forth step increased the width of the line, in light golden beads, and the fifth, final step, showed the start of a second arabesque, using the original bright red beads, flowing from the first.
“This is truly vell done,” said Madame Koska. “Every step is illustrated so clearly. Even a beginner can follow the sequence.”
“You see, Madame Koska, most samplers are not done with sufficient emphasis on training. The embroiderers usually wanted to create something beautiful and elegant, so they limited their color palette for both beads and thread. The result was lovely, but seeing the steps was hard. My governess taught me that to make a proper sampler, you must use bold, contrasting colors. Then the steps can be followed.”
“You had excellent training.”
“Yes, dear Fräulein Strauss. She could do better Russian pearl embroidery than some of our own people. She taught me how to embroider long before my mother thought I was old enough to hold a needle, since I wanted so much to do it… Fräulein Strauss and I had our little secrets.” She suddenly laughed. “She also taught me how to walk with a book on my head… I did not appreciate it, nor the corsets she had me wear, or the idea that bonbons were so bad for your complexion… But I did love her.”
“But you should not have spent the money on a frame, Miss Saltykov. You must tell me how much it cost so I can reimburse you.”
“I did not spend anything… I still have a few frames the Tsarina gave me. She liked my work very much, and every so often she would ask me to do a little project for her. I always felt so honored when she did that. She gave me many frames so I would always have the right ones on hand. And now that she is gone… I would love it if they will be hanging in your atelier, Madame Koska. You make me feel at home, like my dear Tsarina used to… this is the first workplace I feel happy coming to every morning.” She touched her eyes with a handkerchief, which as always was beautifully embroidered.
“Thank you, my dear,” said Madame Koska, touched. “I am not a noble creature like the Tsarina, may she rest in peace, but no one can appreciate your vork and loyalty more than I do.”
Natalya smiled happily. “Next week I will bring the second sampler. The first one was easy, the arabesque is such a clear design, since you just start with a center and build the rest around it. But the next one, with the combination beads, will be a little more complicated. May I choose a few beads and take them home?”
“Of course,” said Madame Koska. “Take as many as you need, and don’t forget to take plenty of those new, perfectly rounded pearls… the ladies might as vell get used to vorking vith the good ones since I vill never go back to the imperfect type. You plan to show them how to arrange the smaller beads and the pearls around the big combination, jewel-like beads, correct?”
“Yes, exactly,” said Natalya. “On the first step, you will see the big bead by itself, then on the second step, the bead surrounded with the first row of small beads, then a third with a few rows… and of course the gold thread, couched around the beads and unifying them.” She smiled again and went into the sewing room, and Madame Koska returned to the sketches of the Mistral collection she was preparing. Suddenly she heard Natalya give a little scream. She raised her head. “Miss Saltykov? Anything wrong?”
There was a moment of silence and then Natalya said, “No, nothing, I just stabbed my finger on a pin… everything is fine. I must wash my hand, though, there is a tiny bit of blood on my finger, I don’t want to stain any fabric.” Madame Koska heard her going into the wash room and went back to the Mistral sketches. The other seamstresses started to come in, and the work day began in earnest.
A few days later, Mr. Korolenko rang the bell and walked in. Finding Gretchen at the front desk, he explained that he came to give a lesson to the owner of the atelier. Gretchen took his name and went to call Madame Koska.
“Please come in, Mr. Korolenko. Miss Van der Hoven, if at all possible, don’t let anyone disturb me for the hour of the lesson, it’s too distracting.” Mr. Korolenko started and looked at Gretchen, his expression showing amazement. “Did you say Miss Van der Hoven? My goodness, are you Gretchen?”
“Yes, sir, I am Gretchen Van der Hoven,” said the girl, surprised. “Have we met before?”
“I knew your family when you were very small,” said Mr. Korolenko, “you would not remember me. But I can easily recognize you from the shape of your eyes and your coloration. It is very nice to see you again, Miss Van der Hoven.” Madame Koska took him to her office and closed the door.
“I wonder if she heard anything from her father,” said Mr. Korolenko. “I did not want to distress her by asking bluntly in your presence. Do you have any news of him?”
“Whatever do you mean, Mr. Korolenko? Her father died about two years ago, in an accident,” said Madame Koska.
“Died? No, no. Meneer Van der Hoven is not dead, Madame Koska. What makes you think so?”
“My friend, Madame Golitsyn told me so when I hired Gretchen on her recommendation.”
“She must have made a mistake. It’s a very unusual situation, granted, but I would be very much surprised if Madame Golitsyn does not know the truth… since she knows Gretchen well enough to recommend her to you.”
“But perhaps that is what Gretchen told her,” said Madame Koska.
“Perhaps…”
“So what happened to her father?”
“No one knows precisely, but he was involved with a crime ring in the tropics,” said Mr. Korolenko. “They are a very dangerous crime ring. Bootleg whisky to America, opium wherever it is wanted, jewel thefts, bank robberies… they have connections all over the world. The police thought he was one of the leaders.”
“Where do you think he is? From what you say, I imagine he was not caught by the authorities.”
“I am not even sure if the police are right and he is a criminal himself,” said Mr. Korolenko. “He would not be the first man to be hounded by this group, perhaps kidnapped by them. But either way, he would not be dead. He would be more useful alive.”
“Are you sure Gretchen knows all that?”
“No, I am not really sure, despite the notoriety of the case. Her relatives might have wished to keep it from her, and thought it best to tell her he died. But since it was in all the newspapers for months, how could she not see it?”
“I don’t believe Gretchen has ever opened a newspaper in her life, Mr. Korolenko. She is very sweet and friendly, but the most childish, scatterbrained little creature.”
“Then she certainly changed quite a lot from the precocious, intelligent child she used to be. I remember her very well, always with a book in her hands, or engaged in her homework.”
“You would never see her do so these days. Her only interests revolve around fashion, society, dancing and such like things. I suppose she might have changed as she grew up and realized that she was so stunningly beautiful.”