The Body in the Gazebo by Katherine Hall Page

Father was convinced that their study sessions were the reason Theo had passed, and he was no doubt right. Theo called him ‘the Professor’ and soon everyone, even Father, did. I remember the first time I saw him. He had the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen—brown with tiny flecks of gold.”
    This brought a smile to Faith’s face. A crush. Growing up, she’d had many herself.
    “There weren’t any children my age, and except for the people I’ve mentioned, no one was living at the house that summer besides the servants, although those who were local went home at night. I didn’t mind. There was the whole outdoors to play in and my books to read indoors, and out. I also learned a new language—Martha’s Vineyard Sign Language. I thought it was great fun. There was an extremely high percentage of hereditary deafness on the island dating back to the eighteenth century, peaking in the mid-nineteenth, but still quite prevalent, especially in Chilmark, well into the twentieth. The gardener was deaf, as were several of the kitchen help. One of them, who was very young and very pretty, made rather a pet of me. I learned to sign by watching the servants talk—all of the ones from the island used it, even the ones who weren’t deaf. When I became adept, which was rather quickly—children pick up these things so much more easily than adults—I discovered that they liked my mother, feared my father, and thought Theo and his friends were very funny.
    “I thought all the grown-ups were endlessly fascinating and I became very clever at finding places where I could observe them undetected. Under the piano in the living room was a good place. And then there was my own special place—not so much a place from which to watch people, but a kind of fort I’d made for myself underneath the rhododendrons next to a gazebo. It was quite an elaborate one that the owners had had constructed in the woods—more like a summerhouse or folly—a screened-in octagon with a wide bench around the sides. When I first happened upon it, I thought it belonged in something like Frances Hodgson Burnett’s The Secret Garden, but upon reflection I decided it was more suited to Grimm. It was set away from the main house, deep in the woods down a dark, narrow path, nothing like a garden gazebo. It became my favorite spot. That hiding place by the gazebo . . .”
    “You just don’t trust me, Father! Dash it! The Professor’s a good chap and I’m all for helping him out, but I don’t need a tutor down at the Vineyard this summer. I’m more than capable of writing the papers myself, and as for the math, I would have passed the exam if I had felt better.” Theo stopped short. He didn’t want to go into the reason for the monstrous headache that had caused the numbers to swim before his eyes and the feeling that he might retch at any moment, which kept him from putting down what little he did know on the paper before him. It had been foolish to go off with Charles, but it was only going to be for a quick bite at Jim’s Place in the Square, and then Violet had appeared with a friend. It would have been rude not to ask them to a show in town and supper afterward.
    Violet. Theo tried to concentrate on what his father was saying. It should have been easy. The old man was shouting. But he kept seeing Violet’s face—that impossibly alabaster skin, ruby lips, flashing sapphire eyes. He wished he were a poet. Maybe he’d give it a try. “Thine eyes like pools of melted sky.” Not bad. Not bad at all.
    “Theo! Have you heard one word of what I’ve been saying?”
    “Of course, sir. You think I’m a ‘wastrel’ and need a watchdog. I give in. I’ll let the Professor keep my nose to the grindstone.”
    Theo had absorbed enough from his English courses to know he had muddled any number of metaphors. He found himself trying hard not to smile. His father was right. He wasn’t taking all this seriously. Slacker fellows than he was had