The Healing Season by Ruth Axtell Morren Page A

after they had placed their order and the waiter left them.
    He smiled at her enthusiasm. “If they are fresh, and the place is a reputable one.”
    “Oh, these are very fresh. And this eatery has been here as long as I can remember. You shall see, they make the best oyster pie in puff pastry.”
    They sat at a window side table overlooking the busy street. Many late-night theatergoers sat at the surrounding tables.
    “I haven’t received your bills yet for Betsy’s care,” she said after a moment. “Please send them to Ten Bedford Place, right off Bloomsbury Square.”
    He shrugged. “I hadn’t planned on billing Miss Simms, since she won’t be able to earn her living for some time.”
    Her eyes widened in astonishment. “You saved her life, she owes you a great deal.”
    “I simply did what I was called to do. The Lord saved her life.”
    “I shall not refine too much upon the matter, but I do insist on paying her medical bills. It’s the least I can do after all you did for her.”
    Ian made no reply as the hot pastries and tankards of porter were set before them. As soon as the waiter left them again, he bowed his head to ask a silent blessing over the food.
    “You are a pious man,” Mrs. Neville remarked as he was unfolding his napkin.
    “I was raised by some very pious people and I work with others at the mission. As for myself…” He shrugged. “I don’t think of myself as pious, only as God-fearing.”
    “I have little time for piety.” She lifted her tankard. “Tonight is a night of celebration for me.”
    “So you mentioned,” he said, going along with her change of topic. “What is the occasion?”
    “I have been offered the part of Leporello in Dibdin’snew burletta of Don Giovanni, or The Spectre on Horseback. ”
    “ Don Giovanni, isn’t that an Italian opera?”
    Her laughter tinkled over the sound of cutlery. “A travesty of the opera. In this play, Don Giovanni kills Donna Anna’s father and must escape to London. He ends up falling into the Thames and is rescued by some fishermen, at which point he immediately tries to woo their wives, whose names are Shrimperina and Lobsteretta.”
    Her laughter died when she noticed he hadn’t joined in her amusement. “Don’t you think that’s funny?”
    “It sounds ridiculous.”
    “It is. Don’t you see? The humor is found in the rhymed couplets we sing. The story itself is a silly version of the Don Giovanni story, but it’s Dibdin’s libretto and our rendition of the lines that bring amusement to the audience.
    “The Don pursues every woman he meets before being caught in the end. It’s all quite droll. I read a bit of the script earlier today, when the manager told me about the piece. In this version, Donna Anna is bent on revenge, but another part of her wants Don Giovanni for herself even though she is engaged to another.”
    He frowned. “Isn’t that a bit capricious?”
    She shrugged. “It’s a better role than many. Most of the heroines in today’s melodramas and burlesques aresuch simpering fools, always needing to be rescued as you could see from tonight’s piece. Donna Anna is another stamp altogether.”
    She took a healthy bite of her oyster pastry and washed it down with a swallow from her tankard. Then she laughed afresh, and he could see nothing he said could dampen her spirits.
    “We shall be rehearsing next week to open in a fortnight,” she continued. “I hope you come on opening night.”
    “After what I saw tonight, I think I was right in staying away from the theater.”
    She drew herself up. “What do you mean?”
    “I was brought up to believe the theater was devoid of morals. What I saw tonight has not disabused me of this notion.”
    She flicked aside a flake of pastry from the tablecloth. “Morality is for those who have the blunt.”
    “Your young Miss Simms might have saved herself a lot of trouble if she’d had a higher moral standard.”
    “Betsy is young and ignorant. She’ll