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“I hope that does not make you disinclined to be overly fond of me,” I said.
“It hasn’t yet,” she said merrily.
“I am glad to hear that, for I am fond of you already.”
“We have only just met. I hope you will not begin your protestations of love before our dance is complete.”
“I have said nothing of love. I hardly even know you well enough to like you. But I think I know you well enough to be fond of you.”
“What an unusual response. But I must say that I like it. You’re very honest, Mr. Evans.”
“I endeavor always to be honest,” I said guiltily, for I do not believe I had ever in my life been so false to a woman I admired than I was to her, pretending to be a man I was not with means I did not have.
“That may not always serve you well. There has been much talk of you among the ladies, you know. It is far enough along into the season that the arrival of a new man with a fortune to his name is bound to excite interest. If you are honest with all of them, you will not make many friends.”
“I think a man can be honest without being unkind.”
“I have known very few who were capable of it,” she said.
“I think your brother has yet to master that skill.”
“You are certainly right there. I don’t know why he dislikes you, sir, but I must tell you his behavior toward you is mortifying.”
“If that mortification played any role in your agreeing to dance with me, I would gladly endure the barbs of a thousand brothers.”
“You are begi
“A dozen brothers, then. No more.”
“I do believe you would be more than a match for them, sir.”
“Have you lived with your brother alone for long?” I asked, in an effort to change our subject to something more material.
“Oh, yes. My mother died when I was but six years of age, and my father some two years later.”
“I am sorry to hear of your early losses. I can only imagine the grief you must have endured.”
“At the risk of sounding unfeeling, I must tell you that it occasioned far less grief than you might suppose. My parents were of the habit of sending me off to school from the earliest age and, before that, of leaving me in the care of my nurse night and day. Upon their deaths, I understood that people materially close to me had been taken, but I hardly knew either better, sir, than I know you now.”
“Your brother seems some years older than you. I hope he proved a more tender parent.”
“Tenderness is not his great strength, but he has been good to me always. I knew nothing of a home life until after our parents died. He continued the practice of keeping me away at school until the school pronounced me too old to keep, but I was welcome home during holidays, and De
“Just once?” I asked.
“Well, once particularly. Many times, I suppose, for, if I may be honest with you, I was when I was younger inclined to be fat. Very much so, in fact, and the other girls at my school were cruel to me.”
I could scarce believe it, for she had now a shape of very pleasing proportions. “Surely it is now you who is being hurtful to Miss Dogmill.”
“No, I was an enormous girl until I was sixteen. Then I became very sick with a fever that put me to bed for more than a month. Every day the doctor despaired of my life, and every day De
I could not join her in admiring a man whose greatest contribution to the world has been to sit in silence by a sister he presumed to be dying, but I did not tell her as much. “Such events can often yield a great closeness,” I said dutifully.
“Well, I recovered after some time, and I suppose it was all for the best. I have found I like being of a smaller frame more than I like seedcake. And De
“And have you found sharing a house with him an agreeable arrangement?”
“Oh, mightily agreeable. It is a large enough house that we need not see each other but when we want to. And though De
“He is not, then, one of those brothers who wishes to marry off his sister as early as he might conveniently do so?”
“Oh, no. My domestic affairs would be far too much trouble for him to attend. He did make a halfhearted effort to see me married to Mr. Hertcomb, but my brother better than most men knows what a simpleton he is, and though he thought the match might make good political sense, he chose not to force the issue.”
“I ca
“I don’t believe the prize was ever close to his fingers, but he fancies himself to be quite in love with me, and will occasionally mortify me by making amorous protests that are both absurd and embarrassing. I ca
I winced at the memory of my many proposals of marriage to Miriam. “Perhaps a gentleman must ask many times because it is the habit of ladies to be coy.”
“Mr. Evans, I believe I have stung you,” she said. “Is there some lady who has refused your many proposals? Some mulatto beauty, perhaps, who rebuffed you under a coco tree?”
“I only defend my sex in the face of cruel assault,” I said. “Where shall we men be if we do not offer to take up for one another?”
The music ended, and I saw she was smiling at my quip. “Before I return you to your friends,” I ventured, “I must ask you if you would be willing to allow me to call on you at your home.”
“You are welcome to call on me, and I will do my best to make you feel at your ease, but I remind you that it is Mr. Dogmill’s home too, and he may not be so happy to see you as I.”
“I may change his opinion of me yet,” I said to her.
She shook her head, and something like sadness darkened her face. “No,” she said. “You won’t. There is no changing his mind. Not ever, and not for an instant. His stubbor
When we returned to the little gathering, I saw that Mr. Melbury was facing away from me in close conversation with a woman who was blocked almost entirely from my view. I thought nothing of it, but when I grew closer, Melbury turned to me and put a hand on my shoulder.
“Ah, Evans. Here is someone I want you to meet. This is my wife.”
When I considered the matter later, I was unable to say why it had never occurred to me that Miriam would be at the assembly. Certainly it seemed to make sense that she would be there with her husband. But the thought never once came into my head. I had grown so used to not seeing her that the idea of a face-to-face encounter would have struck me as being on the verge of an absurdity.
Miriam held out her hand to me, but she hardly even looked me full in the face and by no means recognized me. She might never have done so- she would have given my face a casual glance and forgotten it even before she had seen it- had I not stared most inappropriately, almost daring her to meet my eyes. Why should I have done such a thing? Why would I not have allowed us to pass and be done with it? I ca