A Hope Beyond by Judith Pella

argumentative processes of government.”
    “Mr. Adams, if I might have a few moments of your time,” Henry Alexander interrupted, “there is a matter of importance on which I need your consideration.”
    “But, Father, this is a Christmas party,” Lucy protested. “You promised me that you would not work so very hard during the holidays.”
    Henry smiled indulgently. “I assure you we will only be a few minutes. I know you and Miss Adams can entertain yourselves during that time.”
    Carolina watched on as Lucy interacted with her father and York. She was more beautiful than Carolina could have ever imagined. Her alabaster skin was sharply contrasted by her ebony hair and eyes. She reminded Carolina of a porcelain doll, so dainty and fragile, yet there was a fire in her eyes that spoke of strength and independence.
    “I truly am happy for the time to know you better,” Lucy said, bringing Carolina out of her thoughts.
    “As am I.”
    “York tells me you enjoy reading and studying on new subjects.”
    “That is true,” Carolina admitted.
    Lucy gave her a conspiratorial smile. “I confess I’m guilty of the same.”
    “You?” Carolina asked in surprise.
    “You can’t sit at as many diplomatic and political tables as I have and not be fascinated by the details passing in conversation.”
    Carolina felt she’d met a kindred spirit in Lucy. “I’ve eavesdropped on more of my father’s private meetings than I’d care to admit to. York has even helped me on one or two occasions. He’s always respected my desire to learn.”
    Lucy nodded. “I can imagine he would. But, you see, the difference between York and other men is that York is not threatened by an intelligent woman. He’s confident in himself and is very knowledgeable. And I would even go so far as to say that your brother is quite willing to learn from a woman, should he find her with knowledge of importance to him.”
    “York is very special,” Carolina confessed. “When he told me that he’d met you, I must say I was rather jealous. Now, however, meeting you and speaking our hearts, I find that you are quite an acceptable choice.”
    Lucy reached out and linked her arm through Carolina’s. “I know we shall be great friends, Miss Adams.”
    “Please call me Carolina.”
    “And you will call me Lucy.”
    “Happily,” Carolina said, feeling as though she’d just been given an exquisite gift.
    “Now you must tell me about Oakbridge. York says so very little about it, and even when I do get him to speak on it, he talks in acreages and crop profits.”
    Carolina laughed. “I’ve no doubt that is true. York is far happier with his politics. But as for Oakbridge . . .” She paused, looking thoughtful. “Oakbridge is a world unto itself. We’re not far from Falls Church, and really not so very far from Washington City. Oakbridge sits alongside Dominion Creek, and because the creek is particularly broad where our road passes over, Grandfather Adams built a bridge of oak on which to cross.”
    “Thus Oakbridge,” Lucy said with a knowing nod.
    “Yes.” Carolina continued, drawing from a mental picture of her home. “The house is of the Greek style with six white pillars and three floors of rooms. It makes a beautiful contrast in the spring and summer with its bold whiteness against the green hills and flowering gardens.”
    “I can just see it,” Lucy said with genuine delight.
    “Of course now,” Carolina added rather sadly, “everything is rather brown and dingy. I can’t profess a love for winter. It’s then that I feel very isolated. Almost as though Oakbridge has slipped off the face of the earth.”
    Just then, York returned with refreshments for both of them, and Carolina put her thoughts aside. It was easy to talk to Lucy, and she could see now how expertly Lucy had drawn out all manner of information without once making Carolina uncomfortable.
    Seeing her brother whisper into Lucy’s ear, Carolina decided to bow out