and on the river. Roland will probably hint him away from inviting you, but I thought if I told Lord Thorncrest I want to see all those things, he would have to ask me too, and Roland could not possibly object. And it worked. We are to go on the steam packet to Richmond on the first convenient fine day.”
Jodie hugged her. “What a darling you are, Emily. Tell me, do you think steam will ever replace sails as a way of crossing the oceans?”
“The engines would have to be very much improved. I read an article… Oh Jodie, you already know the answer!”
“Yes, but Thorncrest does not. Ask him his opinion.”
“I doubt he has one.”
“You cannot know until you ask,” Jodie pointed out. “Besides, I believe he is more intelligent than he chooses to appear. I told you he knew what he was talking about at the museum yesterday. Anyway, that does not matter. If he has no opinion, then tell him yours. Just try to pretend that he’s a normal person.”
Emily went off into whoops. “A normal person!” she gasped. “Neither abnormal nor subnormal? Oh dear, I wish you had not said that. I shall not be able to look at him without laughing.”
“And a very good thing too,” said Jodie, tying the ribbons of her hat firmly beneath her chin.
Chapter Nine
Giles was spending by far too much of his time at Lady Bestor’s house. Jodie was not jealous, she assured herself, especially since it turned out that Cassandra was engaged to Harry Font. But it was not healthy for Giles to concentrate on his calculations to the exclusion of all else. Every morning he went to Dover Street, and whether he returned for luncheon or not till dinner, he spent the rest of the day and evening in the book room, with his papers and his modernized slide rule.
He needed a break.
On the other hand, Jodie had been reading how Ada Lovelace’s scientific career was, or rather would be, cut short by interruptions. Family duties, illness, her mother’s bizarre behaviour, and finally a passion for gambling would distract her from her work after the one brilliant paper. Jodie had no desire to figure in future history as the cause of Giles’s failure to reach his full potential.
Roland rescued her from the dilemma by insisting that Giles must attend Lady Cowper’s ball.
Charlotte seconded him. “Since we called on Lady Cowper, she has kindly sent another invitation specifically addressed to you and Jodie. It will not do to offend her, Cousin Giles. She is one of the patronesses of Almack’s and though she is prodigious good-humoured you will not want to risk Jodie not receiving vouchers.”
“I won’t?” said Giles blankly. “What’s Almack’s?”
Emily hastened to explain. “It is a club where the most exclusive dancing assemblies are held every Wednesday during the Season. For a young lady, not to receive vouchers is to be banished to the outskirts of Society.”
“Heaven forbid that any act of mine should banish Jodie to the outskirts of Society.” Giles grinned. “All right, I’ll go to this ball of yours.”
“A noble sacrifice, dear Giles,” said Jodie.
That very evening he abandoned his calculations to go with them to a concert of the Philharmonic Society in Hanover Square. It was one of the items on Jodie’s list of “Things to Do in Town,” much of it culled from the latest edition of the Picture of London.
Jodie managed to cram several amusements into each day, from Bullock’s Museum and Mrs. Salmon’s Waxwork to a balloon ascension and afternoon tea with the Duchess of Richmond. For all her bashfulness, young Lady Faringdale moved in the first circles. Though the Season was scarce begun, Charlotte had obtained invitations to a rout, a ridotto, an informal hop, a Venetian breakfast and a card party (Jodie had strict instructions from Roland not to introduce pinochle). They had been to Drury Lane to see Edmund Kean, and to Gunter’s for ices. Jodie’s reams of notes were piled as high as Giles’s.
That was
Jodie hugged her. “What a darling you are, Emily. Tell me, do you think steam will ever replace sails as a way of crossing the oceans?”
“The engines would have to be very much improved. I read an article… Oh Jodie, you already know the answer!”
“Yes, but Thorncrest does not. Ask him his opinion.”
“I doubt he has one.”
“You cannot know until you ask,” Jodie pointed out. “Besides, I believe he is more intelligent than he chooses to appear. I told you he knew what he was talking about at the museum yesterday. Anyway, that does not matter. If he has no opinion, then tell him yours. Just try to pretend that he’s a normal person.”
Emily went off into whoops. “A normal person!” she gasped. “Neither abnormal nor subnormal? Oh dear, I wish you had not said that. I shall not be able to look at him without laughing.”
“And a very good thing too,” said Jodie, tying the ribbons of her hat firmly beneath her chin.
Chapter Nine
Giles was spending by far too much of his time at Lady Bestor’s house. Jodie was not jealous, she assured herself, especially since it turned out that Cassandra was engaged to Harry Font. But it was not healthy for Giles to concentrate on his calculations to the exclusion of all else. Every morning he went to Dover Street, and whether he returned for luncheon or not till dinner, he spent the rest of the day and evening in the book room, with his papers and his modernized slide rule.
He needed a break.
On the other hand, Jodie had been reading how Ada Lovelace’s scientific career was, or rather would be, cut short by interruptions. Family duties, illness, her mother’s bizarre behaviour, and finally a passion for gambling would distract her from her work after the one brilliant paper. Jodie had no desire to figure in future history as the cause of Giles’s failure to reach his full potential.
Roland rescued her from the dilemma by insisting that Giles must attend Lady Cowper’s ball.
Charlotte seconded him. “Since we called on Lady Cowper, she has kindly sent another invitation specifically addressed to you and Jodie. It will not do to offend her, Cousin Giles. She is one of the patronesses of Almack’s and though she is prodigious good-humoured you will not want to risk Jodie not receiving vouchers.”
“I won’t?” said Giles blankly. “What’s Almack’s?”
Emily hastened to explain. “It is a club where the most exclusive dancing assemblies are held every Wednesday during the Season. For a young lady, not to receive vouchers is to be banished to the outskirts of Society.”
“Heaven forbid that any act of mine should banish Jodie to the outskirts of Society.” Giles grinned. “All right, I’ll go to this ball of yours.”
“A noble sacrifice, dear Giles,” said Jodie.
That very evening he abandoned his calculations to go with them to a concert of the Philharmonic Society in Hanover Square. It was one of the items on Jodie’s list of “Things to Do in Town,” much of it culled from the latest edition of the Picture of London.
Jodie managed to cram several amusements into each day, from Bullock’s Museum and Mrs. Salmon’s Waxwork to a balloon ascension and afternoon tea with the Duchess of Richmond. For all her bashfulness, young Lady Faringdale moved in the first circles. Though the Season was scarce begun, Charlotte had obtained invitations to a rout, a ridotto, an informal hop, a Venetian breakfast and a card party (Jodie had strict instructions from Roland not to introduce pinochle). They had been to Drury Lane to see Edmund Kean, and to Gunter’s for ices. Jodie’s reams of notes were piled as high as Giles’s.
That was
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