again—this time it was a sadness going down, and anguish was plainly visible in his face over all he had done. “I don’t want you to be just my mistress.” The ship rose and fell with the water and, a little beyond them, across the blond boards of the deck, the two soldiers watched the scene of the huddling sweethearts as though, even now, they might take their chances overboard. But Diana had never felt steadier, surer. The sick feeling was completely gone now, and she knew she must be a great deal older for seeing, all of a sudden and so clearly, how men could be the weaker sex. Even a fellow like Henry was too sensitive in moments like these, and she understood that it was she who had to be brave and lay out how it would be.
Now Diana’s smile was one of patience. She went on as though she were telling him a story: “But it won’t be forever, nothing ever is, and anyway I don’t mind being a mistress so much if I’m your mistress.” They leaned in to each other, so that their foreheads touched. Suddenly the prospect of sacrificing any amount of dignity for him, for the whole grand romance, seemed very heroic. “How could I mind being your mistress, when I love you so?”
He only nodded, their heads bobbing against each other to the rhythm of the ocean. A gull swooped, cawing, just behind her, and Diana found she was surprised that they were still close enough to land for all that. The sea was green-gray around them, and the place they were leaving was obscured by streaky clouds through which a few blades of fading sun shone for the last time that day. Or any day, as far as they were concerned. The place they were going, the stares they were in for—well, she couldn’t imagine that yet. She clung to Henry in the in-between place, and found there was plenty of joy all over her little person right where she was.
file://C:\Documents and Settings\nickunj\Desktop\book.html 10/28/2009
Page 39 of 128
Twelve
Elizabeth,
A most miraculous, most unforgivable event has occurred. Your sister has just been returned to my care, by two army men, arrived this day from Cuba. She will be punished, of course, and not all owed out of the house or my sight. I am relying on you to show her the error of her judgment. We are coming to your home for dinner this evening, and I want you to impress upon her how poorly your adventures outside of New York indeed proved.
Yours, Mother
IN THE CAIRNS BROWNSTONE, ON AN EMINENTLY respectable stretch of Madison, everything was in its place and an air of prosperous well-being floated throughout the rooms. The cook was preparing dinner, for all the Holland women would be dining there that evening. Elizabeth had had a busy week, but she’d finally managed some rest that afternoon, and now that order had been established, and the place was looking so much more like a home, a healthy aspect had returned to her cheeks. So Elizabeth thought, anyway, as she lingered a little while longer in front of the ormolu mirror with the embossed ribbon detail in her bedroom. Behind her in the frame were the white-canopied bed and garnet-colored wallpaper. Her complexion had always been pale, but as she studied her reflection, she thought she detected a hint of the pinkness that Will used to like, too. Ever since she had heard about the success of his oil field, she had been wearing black in a secret act of devotional widowhood, but it did not—she couldn’t help but notice—make her look any smaller.
Soon Diana would be coming through the door—Elizabeth could almost imagine how her soft little arms would be thrown wide in the expectation of an embrace, as she cried out: “But you’re so gigantic!” Despite the tenor of their mother’s note, Elizabeth knew that the old lady was relieved, as she was, to have Diana back. That was the main thing, and Elizabeth felt extra lucky to have such a nice home to welcome her little sister into. She had not paused the hectic business of making a
Now Diana’s smile was one of patience. She went on as though she were telling him a story: “But it won’t be forever, nothing ever is, and anyway I don’t mind being a mistress so much if I’m your mistress.” They leaned in to each other, so that their foreheads touched. Suddenly the prospect of sacrificing any amount of dignity for him, for the whole grand romance, seemed very heroic. “How could I mind being your mistress, when I love you so?”
He only nodded, their heads bobbing against each other to the rhythm of the ocean. A gull swooped, cawing, just behind her, and Diana found she was surprised that they were still close enough to land for all that. The sea was green-gray around them, and the place they were leaving was obscured by streaky clouds through which a few blades of fading sun shone for the last time that day. Or any day, as far as they were concerned. The place they were going, the stares they were in for—well, she couldn’t imagine that yet. She clung to Henry in the in-between place, and found there was plenty of joy all over her little person right where she was.
file://C:\Documents and Settings\nickunj\Desktop\book.html 10/28/2009
Page 39 of 128
Twelve
Elizabeth,
A most miraculous, most unforgivable event has occurred. Your sister has just been returned to my care, by two army men, arrived this day from Cuba. She will be punished, of course, and not all owed out of the house or my sight. I am relying on you to show her the error of her judgment. We are coming to your home for dinner this evening, and I want you to impress upon her how poorly your adventures outside of New York indeed proved.
Yours, Mother
IN THE CAIRNS BROWNSTONE, ON AN EMINENTLY respectable stretch of Madison, everything was in its place and an air of prosperous well-being floated throughout the rooms. The cook was preparing dinner, for all the Holland women would be dining there that evening. Elizabeth had had a busy week, but she’d finally managed some rest that afternoon, and now that order had been established, and the place was looking so much more like a home, a healthy aspect had returned to her cheeks. So Elizabeth thought, anyway, as she lingered a little while longer in front of the ormolu mirror with the embossed ribbon detail in her bedroom. Behind her in the frame were the white-canopied bed and garnet-colored wallpaper. Her complexion had always been pale, but as she studied her reflection, she thought she detected a hint of the pinkness that Will used to like, too. Ever since she had heard about the success of his oil field, she had been wearing black in a secret act of devotional widowhood, but it did not—she couldn’t help but notice—make her look any smaller.
Soon Diana would be coming through the door—Elizabeth could almost imagine how her soft little arms would be thrown wide in the expectation of an embrace, as she cried out: “But you’re so gigantic!” Despite the tenor of their mother’s note, Elizabeth knew that the old lady was relieved, as she was, to have Diana back. That was the main thing, and Elizabeth felt extra lucky to have such a nice home to welcome her little sister into. She had not paused the hectic business of making a
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