“I’m afraid you exaggerate, my dear.” Father chuckled.
“Three bids on Cecily’s box, and nobody but silly old Byron and Mr. Kingsley bid on mine,” Augusta muttered. She peered outdoors as if to turn her attention away from the rest of the family.
“Now, now, my sweet,” Father consoled. “There will be plenty of time for you to court whatever man strikes your fancy once Cecily is safely married.” He turned his twinkling brown eyes to Cecily. “And if events continue to progress as well as they did today at the celebration, that day won’t be long in coming!”
“No, indeed!” Mother added, eyes matching the intense sparkle of Father’s. “Why, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if Delmar didn’t decide to speak up after all this time.”
“Or perhaps someone else, eh?” Father asked.
Cecily swallowed. Delmar’s impromptu proposal had come as quite a shock. She wasn’t ready to give him an answer, and she had told him so. Thankfully he didn’t seem surprised that she needed more time. Delmar didn’t argue with her request that he wait for an answer.
Cecily squirmed under her family’s happy scrutiny. She knew if she told them anything at all, they would join forces to help her make a decision. As if she didn’t already know their opinions. She suppressed a sigh. She hated keeping secrets from the ones she held most dear. Duplicity wasn’t natural to her. Yet the decision was hers to make, and she had promised Delmar she would tell him on the morrow. Her heart beat faster at the thought.
She cleared her throat. “Speaking of Delmar, he asked if he could come by tomorrow afternoon after dinner.”
“Of course Delmar is welcome in our home any time. But after dinner?” Mother asked. “Why didn’t you ask him to join us for dinner? You know he would have been welcome.”
“I–I know he would have been welcome. I just didn’t think of it at the time.”
“That doesn’t matter now,” Mother said as the carriage pulled into the drive. “Delmar is sure to have many more meals with us in the future.” She peered toward Mrs. MacGregor’s house. As she eyed the neighbor digging in her flower garden, a selfsatisfied smile covered her lips. “I can’t wait to tell Gladys what happened today!”
Cecily and Augusta let out small groans. They knew all too well that Cecily’s marriage to a member of a prominent family would be a victory for Mother in her rivalry with their neighbor. Mrs. MacGregor’s daughter had never been anything to look at, a fact that lessened her prospects so that she didn’t marry as well as the MacGregors had hoped. But married she was, and Mrs. MacGregor never let Mother forget that fact.
They watched Mother rush out of the carriage and race toward the MacGregors’ garden.
“Oh, no. Once those two get going, that’s it. She’ll be over there all night,” Roger commented. “I might as well see if Jack wants to play a game of catch.”
Father agreed. “Fine by me. Be home in time for supper.”
“As if Roger would miss supper,” Cecily quipped.
“I heard that.” Despite his warning tone, Roger exited with a gleeful step.
“Never let it be said Roger learned any manners,” Augusta noted. “Doesn’t he know ladies always go first?”
“Don’t you know sisters aren’t the same as ladies?” Cecily asked as she disembarked from the carriage.
“Of course not. Don’t you know that?” Augusta joked.
“I suppose not.” Standing at her full height, Cecily looked down at her hem and saw that her frock had become wrinkled almost beyond hope. “I’m ready to get out of this dress. It looks about as tired as I feel.”
“Me too,” Augusta said. “This has been a long day.”
The sisters walked along the sidewalk. Upon reaching the wide steps to the verandah, they continued side by side until Cecily allowed Augusta to enter the front door before her. Cecily expected Augusta to be full of the day’s news, but she remained silent. As they ascended the curved front stairs together, Cecily noticed that Augusta didn’t keep up with her. The skip that was her usual trademark had disappeared from her step.
“What’s wrong?” Cecily whispered as they reached the top of the stairs.
Augusta’s expression darkened. “You know very well what’s wrong.”
Cecily tilted her head in the direction of her room. She had a feeling she knew what Augusta wanted to say. “We need to talk. Come on in.”
Augusta folded her arms across her chest and followed Cecily into her room. Cecily had barely shut the door behind her when Augusta hissed, “What is the meaning of today?”
“What? I have no idea what you mean.”
“Don’t try to tell me that. How could you? After everything you said before, how could you turn around and steal Professor Tobias from me like that?” Augusta pouted. Her face turned pink, and her eyes moistened as though tears threatened.
Cecily knew her sister’s tactics all too well. She wasn’t about to allow babyish behavior to make her feel guilty when she had done nothing wrong. She held up her hand, palm facing Augusta. “Now hold on a minute. I didn’t steal him from you.”
“Is that so? Then why did you tell him which box was yours?”
“I didn’t tell him,” Cecily objected.
“Then who did?”
“I wish I knew. Maybe he bribed Cook?” As another idea occurred to Cecily, she snapped her fingers. “More likely, he somehow wormed it out of Roger.”
Augusta let out a breath and set her hands at her sides, softening her posture. “Our little brother. I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“Probably bribed him with a piece of licorice.” Cecily noticed the hurt look on Augusta’s face. She wished she could say that Professor Tobias had bid on the wrong box, but she knew her sister would never believe such a far-fetched explanation. Not after the way Professor Tobias had acted like a jealous husband when Averil and Augusta joined them for lunch. “I’m so sorry, Augusta. I did everything I could to bring you and Professor Tobias together.”
Augusta paused. “I know.”
Cecily cringed. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out the way you wanted them to.” Eager to separate herself from Augusta physically as well as emotionally, Cecily walked over to her vanity and plopped down on the cushioned seat. “Don’t you realize that I never once considered Professor Tobias as a romantic prospect—or any prospect, for that matter?”
“But how can that be? He’s ever so handsome and romantic.” Augusta looked up at the ceiling and clasped her hands to her cheek.
Wondering how the plain Professor Tobias could inspire such fantasies in anyone, Cecily tried not to flinch.
“You don’t want to answer, and I know why. You want to spare my feelings.” Augusta sent her a doe-eyed look. “Who am I to stand in the way of your love? If you really do want him to court you, I won’t object.” Her voice was flat, but Cecily knew Augusta meant what she said.
Cecily didn’t know how to answer. Her sister’s gesture took courage, courage Cecily didn’t realize the girl possessed. Truly her baby sister was growing up. “That is so wonderful of you, Augusta, but I meant it when I said I have no interest in him.”
Augusta hesitated. “Well, I must admit, I never saw you give him an ounce of encouragement.” She sniffled, and then her face shone with a smile that displayed her obvious relief. “So why can’t he like me? What’s wrong with me?”
“Nothing!” Cecily stood and hurried over to her. She embraced her younger sister as Augusta wailed. She couldn’t remember a time when she had felt sorrier for her sister. How much easier it might have been for her if she could think that Cecily had stolen Professor Tobias away from her. Then at least Augusta would have an explanation as to his lack of interest in her. “You don’t need to worry about the music teacher,” Cecily assured her. “You are beautiful inside and out.”
Augusta sniffled again. She looked up at Cecily. “I am?”
Cecily sent Augusta her warmest smile. “Of course you are. Why, you’ll have more callers than you
can count once I marry.”
Augusta broke the embrace, though she didn’t move far. The doe-eyed look returned. “How do you know?”
“Didn’t Mr. Kingsley bid on your box? And so did Byron.”
Augusta placed her hands on her hips. “How do you know Byron bid on my box? You and Professor Tobias had already gone to the pine grove by then.”
“I know because Mr. Kingsley mentioned it at lunch.” Then Cecily remembered how Augusta pouted all through the meal. “Perhaps you don’t remember because you were too busy sulking.”
“I suppose I wasn’t very pleasant company. Mr. Kingsley hardly got his money’s worth from me.” She grinned ruefully. “He just bid on my box so he could be near you.”
A twinge of guilt shot through Cecily. She almost wished she hadn’t told Averil to bid on her sister’s box.
“I saw you whispering to Mr. Kingsley after he lost the bid.”
“But. . .” Cecily searched for an explanation, but none seemed suitable.
“That’s all right. You don’t have to lie about it.” Augusta chuckled. “You should have seen the distressed look on Professor Tobias’s face when you two were talking. He looked as though he wanted to strangle Mr. Kingsley with his bare hands. And Delmar! Why, he turned a thousand shades of crimson!” A sly grin slid over Augusta’s lips. “So, what happened when the two of you met after lunch? I know Mother keeps hoping for a marriage proposal.”
Cecily didn’t answer. She preferred to study the knots in the oak floor.
Augusta lifted her head, took in an audible breath, and clasped her hands to the base of her throat. Her eyes widened and took on an excited light. “Cecily! You don’t mean—”
Cecily shook her head. “It’s not what you think.”
“But he did speak up?”
Cecily didn’t want to answer. She ignored her sister’s question and stared out of the window.
“It’s not like anyone would be surprised,” Augusta pointed out. “You and Delmar have an understanding, don’t you?”
“That’s what everyone says.”
Augusta let out a laugh. “Cecily! I think I can read your mind.”
Cecily turned to her abruptly. “Can you?”
“Yes. Surely you’re not serious about Mr. Kingsley. I know you’ve been flirting with the idea, but he is nothing more than a handsome stranger, a carpet sweeper salesman. The novelty of him will wear off soon enough, and you’ll want to return to the familiar.”
“Now you’re sounding like Mother.”
“Is that such a bad thing?” She paused. “Don’t answer that.” She filled the room with a melodic laugh. “But you never told me, did he speak up?”
Cecily held up her left hand. “You don’t see a ring, do you?”
“Oh.” A dark cloud seemed to pass over Augusta’s countenance. “I suppose not. Well, maybe one day. . .”
“Yes.” It was Cecily’s turn to inspect the ceiling. “I pray that one day the right man will ask.”
❧
Averil tried to concentrate on a crossword puzzle, but to no avail. Not wishing to see Cecily that morning, he had done a cowardly thing. He had skipped church. Averil tried to read his Bible during the hour he’d normally be in worship but had met with limited success. Each time he tried to concentrate, he found himself thinking of Cecily. An image of her loveliness popped into his head, whether he was reading the warnings of the prophet Hosea or praises in the Psalms.
“I know I can’t avoid church forever, Lord,” he muttered aloud. “What dost Thou want me to do?”
The thought of going to another church crossed his mind, but he knew that wasn’t the answer. Running away never was. Yet here he sat, in his room, closeted like a hermit. He set down his crossword puzzle on the small table beside his chair and rose to his feet. Averil walked toward the window and peered out. He took passing notice of blooming dogwood trees and lush greenery between the densely packed city houses. He stared with little interest at the occasional carriage that passed on the street below. He watched as children poured into the street to play games, shouting and crying to each other, their voices breaking into the peacefulness of the spring day.
His stomach growled. Had the luncheon hour arrived so suddenly? Then he realized the aroma of baking ham was wafting up the stairs. Perhaps the appetizing smell had spurred his hunger pangs. At least the boardinghouse cook tried to make Sunday dinner an improvement over the usual fare. Still, it couldn’t match the food served up at the Eatons’. Or did the food just seem better because of Cecily’s company?
“Lord,” he pleaded, “why did I make such a rash decision yesterday? I know I should have gone to church today. Forgive me for making excuses. Forgive my spinelessness.”
❧
Cecily looked for Averil during worship and Sunday school. Alarm washed over her. Where was he? Could he be ill? He had seemed perfectly fine the day before. She wondered if she should go by the boardinghouse and see about him. She squelched the idea just as quickly. Such a move would be far from proper. Even if she had the nerve to suggest it, neither of her parents would approve. For the time being, she sent up a silent prayer for Averil’s health and safety.
Perhaps his absence was for the best. Cecily had to concentrate on Delmar, and if Averil were anywhere near, she wouldn’t be able to think of anyone—or anything—else. Delmar had promised to appear at the Eatons’ after the noon meal. Cecily dreaded the moment of his arrival. What could she possibly say to him? When he’d proposed marriage the day before, she had wanted to blurt out a resounding no. Delmar wouldn’t hear of it. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps sleeping on it was best. She knew her answer would be in the negative all the same.
The Lord’s admonition to honor one’s mother and father rang through her head. “Lord, would I be dishonoring them by refusing Delmar’s proposal of marriage? I know how much Mother wants me to marry him.” Then she remembered that Father wasn’t as encouraging. If her parents weren’t of like mind on the subject, no wonder she was so confused.
Or was she? Delmar was upstanding and certain to make a good husband, but being near him didn’t make her heart flutter the way it did when she was anywhere near Averil. Yet what did she know about Averil? Next to nothing. He wasn’t from her hometown, nor did she know anything about his family. Of course in the end, she wouldn’t be marrying his family. She would be marrying him.
“Stop it!” The sound of her voice startled her. She hadn’t meant to utter her thought aloud.
How had she jumped from thinking of Averil as a pleasant companion and someone she wanted to learn more about to a serious suitor? The beating of her heart betrayed her. How could she have fallen in love so suddenly?
Eleven
Opportunities for fellowship and chitchat abounded at Miss Hallowell’s boardinghouse every day, but Averil was in no mood to socialize. He had tired of pretending to care about the older boarders’ aches and pains. The last time Mr. Rose approached him for conversation, Averil had to hold his tongue to keep himself from debating politics.
Regardless of the subject, he had wearied of talking. Some days on the job, as he traveled from street to street, knocking on every door, he felt as though his mouth stayed in constant motion. No matter how enthusiastic he felt about his product, repeating the virtues of the Capital Duster Electric Pneumatic Carpet Renovator grew tiresome by late afternoon. Keeping his voice strong and confident, as though his last customer were his first and he hadn’t already delivered his pitch twenty times that day, could be a strain. Maintaining a smile on his face that was neither too broad nor too weak proved a challenge. Every day he resolved to give his future sales staff an increase in commission.
He opened his book, a large tome written by the historian Josephus. He felt a smile cover his face, a sincere one this time. With a pleasant exhalation of breath, he welcomed the solitude of his small room and the opportunity to read without interruption.
“Mr. Kingsley!” Miss Hallowell screeched. His
landlady’s voice carried easily from the bottom of the stairs.
Averil let out a slight groan. He noticed by the clock on his desk that dinnertime was nearing. Surely Miss Hallowell wasn’t calling him to dinner this early. In the weeks he had been a boarder in her house, that had never happened. Dinner was served at five o’clock on the dot, never deviating from the appointed time. Sometimes she asked her male boarders for help with minor repairs, but never by shouting from the parlor to the rooms above. What could she possibly want with him?
He clapped his book shut and laid it on the bed. Perhaps he could return to his reading later that night before retiring for a good night’s sleep.
“Mr. Kingsley!” she called again.
Apparently the matter was urgent. In compliance, he made a hasty exit from his room and hurried to the top of the stairs.
“Yes, Miss Hallowell?” he answered in a voice that he hoped was loud enough for her to hear, but soft enough to be considered gentlemanly.
“You have a long-distance telephone call!” she shouted.
A long-distance telephone call?
“Oh!” He ran down the steps.
A telephone call! Averil had chosen Miss Hallowell’s boardinghouse partly because it boasted the luxury of a telephone. He relished the knowledge that he could reach his father quickly should urgent business need to be conducted. Father agreed. The call could only be from him. Some of Averil’s friends were corresponding with him by letter, but none of them would have news to share that was urgent enough to warrant such an expense. The thought reminded him that, eager to squeeze every last drop of value out of every penny, Father wouldn’t be happy should Averil keep him waiting.
From the corner of his eye, Averil noticed his fellow boarders watching him with intense curiosity. A long-distance call was as rare in the house as Christmas. He had become an oddity indeed.
Mr. Rose shuffled his newspaper, turning the page to show he would be too busy reading to overhear anything being said on Averil’s end. Miss Henton increased the speed of her knitting. At the rate the red sleeve began to grow from a ball of yarn, her nephew’s sweater was liable to be finished by supper. Mrs. Pimm looked up from writing her letter. She dipped her pen into the inkwell, then began scratching more words upon cream-colored paper. All this busyness, entered into to conceal the fact they were listening, was bound to result in his affairs becoming common knowledge among all the boarders. The ones not present were certain to get a briefing from those who pretended total immersion in their individual pursuits.
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