“It’s a pleasure to help out.”
“Good. It will be one less thing for me to worry about, thank you. This paper’s been a passion project for me and I’m anxious to wrap it up.”
“Can I ask what it’s about?” Violet was naturally curious. She always liked hearing what professors or the faculty at Harvard were working on.
“I’m focusing on the booksellers who helped shape Harry’s early collecting, particularly A.S.W. Rosenbach.”
“The book dealer from Philadelphia?” Violet’s voice perked up.
Madeline was surprised. “You’re familiar with him?”
“Actually, I am.” Violet’s posture straightened with an unexpected surge of confidence. She could hardly believe she had something to contribute to the conversation. “I grew up in Philly. We visited the Rosenbach library for a school trip in high school. That was the first time I saw so many beautiful books under one roof.”
Madeline chuckled. “You’re in the right place then. I’m so pleased you’ll be working here. And if you’re interested in my research… I’ve been looking for a bright student to help transcribe some of the letters between the two men.”
“Really?” Violet was definitely interested in learning more about Philadelphia’s most famous bookseller. The memory of Rosenbach’s townhouse on Walnut Street and its antique and book-filled rooms had stayed with her. “I’d love to help you.”
“That’s music to my ears.” Madeline’s eyes twinkled behind her glasses. She shuffled through her papers and pulled out a photocopyof Rosenbach. Dressed in a tweed jacket, spectacled and scholarly in appearance, the image showed he possessed all of the distinguishing characteristics of a bibliophile.
“Rosenbach was the one who guided Harry as a young Harvard student in his first foray into book collecting. He not only helped purchase the majority of the books now in the collection here, he also knew why Harry would appreciate them in the first place.”
“Wow,” Violet said as she gazed at the image. “They definitely didn’t mention that at all on our school field trip.”
“I imagine they didn’t have time. Rosenbach had quite the full life. But of course, he lived to a ripe old age, unlike Mr. Widener. Only twenty-seven when he drowned.”
Violet’s expression changed.
Madeline studied her for a moment. “I should be completely transparent with you. I heard about what happened over the summer. Professor Gupta shared it with me when I was checking references for your work application.” She paused and considered her words. “I hope this job will help you heal.”
Violet stiffened. “Thank you. It’s been hard, but I’m trying to move forward.”
“I’m sure you know the history of this library. How it was born from grief.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t want to suggest that I chose your application over the others because of what happened to you. But I will say that I’m very conscious of the emotions that motivated the building of this library in the first place. Eleanor Widener created it not as a mausoleum to her son’s memory, but a celebration of his life and his love of books. I think that spirit remains essential to Widener.”
“I understand that connection completely,” Violet said. “My grandmother’s books were her legacy to me.”
“Then it’s another reason why you’re a great fit for this job. That and Professor Gupta saying that you were one of his most gifted students. He showed me your paper on Francis Bacon. It was quite inspired.
“Bacon,” Madeline added, “has a special place in Widener’s story, too.”
Violet’s mind rushed to recall any connection she might have come across during her research, but she could think of none. “I didn’t know that…”
“Yes, well,” Madeline quickly glanced at the clock on the wall. “It’s unfortunate I have to rush off to an appointment now. But consider today anamuse-bouche, then, in whetting your appetite for working here. I’ll save the Bacon story for another time.”
“I’ll look forward to that,” Violet said.
“You’ll be busy here at the library and I couldn’t be happier to have you with us.”
Madeline stood up from her desk and grabbed a folder, stuffing it into her leather satchel. “So, first things first. Order the flowers to be delivered on Wednesday. And then do the same weekly. Francine will walk you through the protocol of retrieving the books, and you and I can discuss my Rosenbach research next time we meet.”
Madeline reached into her bag, pulled out a pen and notepad, then scribbled down a phone number. “The florist certainly knows us well. Her family’s been providing the flowers here ever since the library first opened. It should cost forty-five dollars, including delivery. And whatever flowers you do select, just keep them within the palette Mrs. Widener always preferred. The colors of sunshine. Keep them bright.”
CHAPTER TWO
Two days later, Violet moved past the protective rope and walked into the Widener Memorial Room clasping a glass vase filled with yellow freesia and white roses. The bouquet had been ordered by Madeline a few days earlier, just before she’d handed over the responsibility to Violet. With all of the concern surrounding the book slasher, Madeline had specified that Violet be the one responsible for picking the flowers up at the main desk and bringing them up to the Memorial Room.
