“Perhaps you and Mrs. Williams should agree to become betrothed to each other,” Father quipped.
“This is no joking matter! Our elder daughter’s future is at stake.” Mother surveyed Cecily. “The Lord endowed you with many fine qualities. A beautiful voice and a fine mind. But He didn’t grant you great beauty. You must remember that when selecting from potential suitors. Don’t be in such a hurry to discard a fine boy such as Delmar.”
Father responded, “Would you be so eager to see this match if Delmar didn’t stand well over six feet?”
“Certainly his considerable height is a factor,” Mother admitted. “He is the only boy in Cecily’s set who is taller than she.” Mother glanced at the ceiling. “Haven’t you noticed that the top of Mr. Kingsley’s head barely reaches Cecily’s earlobe?”
“I’m sure that fact bothers you more than it does me,” Cecily countered.
“Truly,” Father agreed, “I would rather see our daughter enjoy wedded bliss with someone of diminutive stature than to spend a life of misery with a giant.”
“Even if he is poor?” Mother asked.
“Just because he sells carpet renovators doesn’t mean he’s poor. I’ll have you know he’s a very good salesman. You’ve seen so yourself,” Cecily pointed out.
“Perhaps he does make a decent wage,” Mother admitted. “But that’s not the point.”
“Then what is the point?” Cecily asked.
Mother didn’t answer.
“I think I know,” Cecily speculated. “You really don’t think Mr. Kingsley is good enough. He wouldn’t be good enough if he were seven feet tall.”
“No one is good enough for our daughter. Not really.” Father’s smile was bittersweet.
Cecily sent a grateful smile to her father. At least he understood her.
“I have your best interests at heart too,” Mother said.
“I know you do, Mother.” Cecily told no lie. Mother had made a good match for herself. Wouldn’t any reasonable mother want to see a repeat of such a successful history?
“Whether you admit it to yourself or not,” Mother continued, “you have become accustomed to a certain lifestyle, one that requires that your future husband be well situated. Not only does Delmar come from wealth, but his schooling will assure that he will succeed on his own.”
“I’m sure it will,” Cecily agreed. “But what if Delmar isn’t the one for me? What if the Lord wants me to learn the art of sacrifice?”
“As with many things the Lord wants from us, the art of sacrifice is more easily opined upon than practiced,” Mother observed. “Lest you think your father and I are concerned merely about money, think again. What about this salesman’s character? What do you really know about him, Cecily? We’ve only seen him a few times.”
“I know that he’s witty, and attractive, and charming. And most important, he loves the Lord.”
“I am in no position to argue that. I know you’re trusting, and that’s not entirely undesirable.” Mother’s voice grew soft. “But what if Mr. Kingsley is merely using you? Mrs. MacGregor told me all that transpired when she bought her Capital Duster. Why, you sold the carpet renovator for him! I’m sure he knows you have many friends and acquaintances. Did it ever occur to you that he may want to meet your friends in hopes of gaining their confidence to increase his sales?”
“Of course not! How can you say that?” Cecily felt herself shaking with anger. “Mother, please excuse me.”
“Certainly. I want you to think about what I said.”
Cecily made haste to reach her room, then shut the door behind her with a gentle but firm thud. She was growing fond of Averil. She didn’t know how her feelings could have developed so quickly, but they had. So why did Mother have to introduce doubts in her mind? No, Averil couldn’t be using her. He just couldn’t.
But what if Mother were right?
Seven
Cecily heard a knock on the door of her room. She was in no mood to see anyone, even if the visitor was Mother hoping to make amends. Perhaps if she didn’t respond, whoever it was would give up and go away. Arms folded, Cecily continued to stare past the white lace curtains that decorated her window. Her gaze set upon the centuries-old oak tree that had been a familiar part of the view from her room ever since she could remember. She could see Mrs. MacGregor’s no-nonsense brick Georgian home. What a contrast to the many-gabled brick Victorian the Eatons called home!
Urgent knocks interrupted her musings.
“Yes?” she answered, reluctance evident in her voice.
“It’s me,” Augusta said. “Open up.”
Augusta. Cecily wasn’t in the humor to see her sister, either. But perhaps another opinion would do her good. Cecily opened the door.
Augusta entered and then shut the door behind her. “I heard you talking with Mother and Father. What was all the commotion about?”
“They don’t want me to think about Averil as a potential suitor. Especially Mother. She doesn’t think he’s good enough.” Cecily sighed as she plopped herself on the bed she had slept in since she was a child. “I know Mother has her standards, but I never thought she’d actually say something like that and mean it.”
Augusta sat beside her. “Oh, that.” She blew out a breath that showed her exasperation. “You know how emotional Mother gets, especially when it comes to us and our suitors. Not that I have any suitors.” Augusta clasped her hands and looked toward the sky as if in a dreamlike trance. “I know I have to wait for you to get married before I can, since you’re older than me. But you’re so lucky, Cecily. You have two suitors, and I don’t have any.”
“Averil isn’t a suitor, at least not yet. He’s just escorting me to the Celebration of Spring.”
“If he’s thinking of courting you, he can’t go much more public than that,” Augusta countered. “You know all of our friends will be there.”
Cecily swallowed. Augusta was right! Her sister’s point made her realize that she didn’t mind the prospect of appearing in the open with Averil.
“Just you wait,” Augusta continued. “He’ll be a suitor soon enough. He likes you. He likes you a lot.”
Cecily’s heart beat faster at the thought. “How can you tell?”
Augusta’s dreamy look returned. “I can see it in his eyes.”
“I don’t know.” Cecily cast her gaze to the beige-and-green rug. If her misjudgment of Professor Tobias proved any indication, Augusta didn’t have the faintest notion of who harbored romantic inclinations toward whom. Still, the thought that Averil’s interest was obvious to others was a pleasant one indeed.
“No matter what you say, you’re the lucky one.” Augusta sighed. “I do miss Professor Tobias ever so much. I almost wish you still took lessons with him. Then at least he’d come by the house.”
Remembering her colossal error during her solo in church, Cecily thought that to answer would be folly. Uncomfortable, she stood up and paced the room.
Augusta rose and threw her arms around Cecily. “I’m so glad you stopped, though. The thought of him passing me by while going in the music room alone with you to give you a lesson—well, not that there would ever be anything the least bit improper taking place. Still. . .” Augusta squeezed Cecily’s waist. “I’m so glad I don’t have to witness that.”
Cecily tightened her grip on Augusta and then let go. “Anything for you.”
Augusta nodded as she sent Cecily a grateful, crooked grin, the same one she always used whenever Cecily did her a favor. The first time Cecily remembered seeing that grin was when she had shared her ice cream with the then six-year-old Augusta. Cecily couldn’t resist sending her own crooked grin back.
“So,” Augusta prodded, “which one do you like best?”
“Which one what?”
“Which man do you like best, Silly. Delmar or Mr. Kingsley?”
“Oh,” was all Cecily could utter. She wasn’t sure how else to respond. Her feelings for Averil had snuck up on her without warning.
She had never felt for a man what she felt for Averil, yet she knew little about him aside from the fact that he was charming, handsome, and a purveyor of carpet renovators. And she hesitated to share her passions with her romantic, idealistic sister.
“You don’t have to tell me.” Augusta seated herself back on the bed, folded her arms, and nodded once with confidence. “You like Mr. Kingsley much better. I don’t blame you, even if you are a head taller than he is.”
“That doesn’t bother me,” Cecily was quick to point out. Did the fact that she towered over him bother Averil? She hoped not.
“As long as it doesn’t bother the two of you, why should anyone else care?” Augusta said. “Besides, who’d want to be with Delmar? He’s such a bore.” She wrinkled her nose.
“You and our brother seem to share that opinion.”
“And Father too, if I read him correctly,” Augusta said. “Pity he couldn’t be more exciting.”
Cecily laughed. “You’ll have to fight off your share of bores soon enough.”
“If Professor Tobias doesn’t speak up soon, I’m not sure I’d even resist a bore.” Augusta giggled. “The idea of men coming to fisticuffs over me does sound thrilling, but I’ll have to wait. I’ll just have to watch them scuffle over you at the celebration.”
“Scuffle? Over me?” Cecily scoffed. “Don’t be silly. I can’t imagine two mature and reasonable men coming to blows over any girl.”
“They just might, once the bidding starts over the boxed lunches,” Augusta persisted.
Cecily groaned. “That’s right. The bachelor bids.”
“Yes!” Augusta’s voice rose in pitch equivalent to her excitement. “I’ll bet Delmar and Mr. Kingsley come to blows over yours.”
Cecily shook her head. “That won’t be necessary.”
“No. They can just empty out their pockets.” Augusta’s mouth twisted. “At least the money will go to a good cause.”
At that moment, Mother called to Augusta from the kitchen.
“I forgot,” Augusta said. “It’s my turn to set the table and dry the dishes. I wish we could afford a live-in maid instead of letting Hattie go home every night.”
“I suspect that even if Hattie lived with us, Mother would still want us to know the meaning of work.”
“I suppose,” Augusta agreed, letting out a dramatic sigh before leaving the room.
Cecily’s uplifted mood lasted only a short time before she turned contemplative. What would happen at the Celebration of Spring? She didn’t want Averil to try to outbid Delmar on her basket. Despite what she had told her mother about his making good money on commissions, Cecily doubted he could afford to spend extra money on a luxury. Delmar’s pockets, on the other hand, were deep. He could outbid almost anyone in the city, should he set his mind to do so. If the bidding got hot, Cecily knew who would win. And who would lose. The thought of the projected outcome didn’t please her.
“What’s wrong with you, Cecily?” she asked herself. “What has made you so vain today? What gives you the right to think even one man would bid on your basket, let alone two? Even worse, what makes you think you should control the outcome? Isn’t everything in God’s hands?”
She thought about the events of the day and her mother’s opposition to Averil. She knew her mother spoke out of love. She wanted what was best for her daughter. Wouldn’t any mother?
The nagging doubt that Mother could be right was even worse than her unfettered opposition. What if Averil was just using her? After all, he did show up at their church without notice. But then again, he had said their house of worship was the only one within walking distance of the boardinghouse. Cecily tried to remember the nearby churches. If memory served her well, Averil was right. There was no other church within walking distance for him. At least not easy walking distance. She remembered his keen answers during Sunday school and the knowledge of the Bible he displayed. Surely someone who seemed to be as strong a Christian as Averil wouldn’t use the Lord’s house and His Word as instruments to further himself socially or in business.
No. Mother was wrong about that. She had to be.
But what about Delmar? Cecily shook her head with enough force to dislodge the picture of the would-be suitor from her mind’s eye. Augusta was right. Delmar was a bore. All he ever talked about was prestige, power, and how he planned to become a huge success in life’s endeavors. Cecily supposed in this day and age a man was expected to harbor some ambitions, but Delmar seemed not to make a move unless it would further his future, somehow. She knew what he wanted: the right schooling, the right street addresses for his residence as well as his office, and, of course, the right wife. Was she the one? Her family seemed to think so.
Lord, what will Thou have me do? I don’t want to disobey Mother, but I don’t feel Delmar is the man I want to spend the rest of my life with.
Cecily sat on her vanity chair in stillness. She studied her reflection in the mirror, but the image reflected back at her barely registered. The state of the soul was the Lord’s prominent concern. She had always tried to keep her soul safe from sin and its subsequent consequences. For how else could she continue to commune with God? She had known all her life that God had a plan for her. He would reveal it in His own time. If He wanted her to be with someone other than Averil, He would let her know. No man would put a stop to God’s plan. She would just have to wait and see what He revealed, that’s all.
Or was she pushing the issue of whom she would eventually marry, prodding God to give her an answer now because she felt she was ready? Cecily had never been wildly popular with potential suitors, but she wasn’t a wallflower, either. So why was it that no other man had made her brain seem to disengage itself from coherent thought whenever he was near? Whenever she saw Averil, it seemed as though her mouth started moving on its own.
Why is that? Perhaps you haven’t been listening to Me.
The voice resounded as clearly as though the Lord Himself were sitting beside her. Perhaps her mouth seemed to move on its own because of her excitement over meeting Averil. He was a new man who exuded such confidence, such life, such possibilities! Had she rushed to encourage him without giving this new association enough thought? Had she not taken enough time to speak with the Lord about Averil and what, if any, role he should play in her life?
“Lord,” she prayed, “please be with me in all my relationships. Guide me in my dealings with my parents. Let me not disrespect or dishonor them in any way, Lord, for I know that to do so would be the same as dishonoring Thee. Help me be a good sister to Augusta and a good sister and an example of womanhood to Roger. I also ask that Thou wilt be with me as I conduct my friendship with Averil. I pray that his motives are pure and that I won’t be disappointed. But if I am, help me to learn from my mistake. In the precious name of Jesus Christ my Savior. Amen.”
As soon as Cecily finished uttering her prayer, she realized that Averil would be the one to grapple with his conscience if he were only using her. As long as her own conduct remained above reproach, she had nothing to fear.
And if Mother is right and I’m meant to be with Delmar, nothing will stop His plan.
She could only pray that the Lord had other ideas.
❧
“You will be joining us for dinner, won’t you, Mr. Kingsley?” Cecily asked him after class the next Sunday. She held her breath. Thanks to her gentle prodding, he had already sat beside them in their family pew once again. Cecily sent him a shy smile. She had prayed for patience all week, but her actions defied her request. There goes my mouth again.
As she chastised herself, she knew in her heart she wasn’t sorry.
Averil broke out into one of his most charming smiles. “I’d be delighted.” His face darkened almost as quickly. “Um, your parents won’t mind, will they?”
“Oh, no. They’ll be pleased to have you dine with us.” Cecily knew for her sake they would pretend to be pleased whether they really were or not. She decided to press on, lest he express
further doubt. “Cook goes out of her way on Sundays. She always bakes a fabulous roast of beef with gravy and the creamiest mashed potatoes you ever put in your mouth. It’s not to be missed.”
“Sounds like a mouthwatering treat.”
Roger came up behind them. “Hey, Sis. Mother says it’s time to go.”
“Certainly.” Cecily knew the word sounded terse with disappointment. She wished to prolong her time in semiprivacy with Averil.
Roger eyed Averil as he kept in step with them. “He’s coming along too?”
“Yes,” Cecily said. “He’s invited to dinner.”
Roger shrugged with the indifference of his youth.
Quick-witted as always, Averil didn’t let questions linger. Instead, he launched into a conversation about the latest enthusiasm, physical fitness. Roger grinned from ear to ear and obliged without missing a beat. Roger had recently started going to the gymnasium after school to lift weights with his friends. Only an instant passed before Roger was flexing his still-scrawny biceps for Averil to admire.
Cecily wondered how Averil managed to hit upon Roger’s favorite subject. Having never spent time in gymnasiums herself, she was content to walk beside them and lose herself in the sights and sounds of spring while their voices droned in the background.
She sighed as she drank in the beauty of a Virginia spring. Plentiful dogwood trees blossomed. Some were pink, but most were white. Azaleas were in full bloom, adding pink, red, and white blooms to the landscape. The flowers’ brilliance was striking alongside a carpet of new green grass. An occasional squirrel chattered and played, unafraid of people walking nearby. She wished she had a few nuts to feed them, as she often did in winter.
All too soon, they caught up to Cecily’s parents and sister.
“Mr. Kingsley,” Mother said, the question in her voice obvious.
“I invited him to eat dinner with us,” Cecily hurried to explain.
“Indeed? What a fine idea,” Father said.
“Mr. Kingsley knows all about athletics,” Roger added. “He goes to a gymnasium in New York. He’s even promised to show me a few moves on the basketball court sometime.”
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