“Yes, and according to Letitia, a very protective brother too. An ill-educated, sensitive, proud, and touchy young man.”

“Interesting. Go on.”

“As a result of that meeting, Letitia took a great liking to the girl. Periodically, she would come out from the city to visit Letitia; Letitia never went to the girl’s own home. Over the next two years, Letitia gave her work whenever she could, and whenever the girl, who was still at school, felt able to take it on. Gradually she was entrusted with other tasks besides embroidery. She made some blouses for Letitia, then a beautiful shawl. She was allowed to make alterations to some of Letitia’s clothes, and Letitia could see how they fascinated her. She would tell the girl stories of her own visits to the couture houses, of the fittings she went to, and the perfectionism that was insisted upon. She explained about toiles, how each garment was assembled and hand sewn. One day she gave Marie-Thérèse one of her oldest and favorite garments, a prewar Chanel suit that had been accidentally torn, and was, she thought, beyond repair. The girl took it away and returned with it in perfect condition. When Letitia examined it, she realized that the girl had taken the entire jacket apart and restitched the whole thing. Marie-Thérèse was trembling with excitement; usually she spoke very little, but that day she could not stop talking about what she had learned. Do you know what she said to Letitia? I quoted it. She said, ‘Madame, I could always see the art, but now I understand the science of clothes.’

“From then onward,” Lindsay went on, “Letitia took an even greater interest in the girl. She encouraged her to talk about her circumstances, her home, and her brother. And she was perturbed by what she heard. Marie-Thérèse and her brother’s home consisted of two rooms in a poor part of the Vieux Carré, almost next door to the convent and its school. The rooms were rented to them by the nuns, whose order owned several run-down properties in that part of New Orleans. It was known as the Maison Sancta Maria, because it had a small statue of the Virgin Mary set into a niche in the garden walls. The renting of these rooms was an act of charity on the nuns’ part—and also something more. They believed, as did her brother, that Marie-Thérèse had a vocation. They were pressing her to become a novice once her schooling was over. Marie-Thérèse had accepted this. She told Letitia she intended to take the veil.

“This concerned Letitia, who was not Roman Catholic. She suggested the girl should think very seriously before taking such a step. She said she herself was more than prepared to offer an alternative: Marie-Thérèse could join the Grant household; she could be trained for domestic service, or ways might be found to make use of her sewing skills. To Letitia’s surprise, the girl refused, though with charm and modesty. She explained she was always guided by her brother, who would never countenance such a step. She said that she could not consider any course of action that would separate her from her brother, who was everything to her—her guardian, protector, and friend. Letitia pointed out gently that although the brother worked for the nuns, helping to maintain their gardens, to become a nun would certainly involve separation from him. Marie-Thérèse listened politely but seemed not to understand.”