request that she might borrow something suitable. She really had no extra money above that which was needed for the house. With new plasterwork, new finials, and several new fire tiles to be purchased, among a number of other things, every halfpenny must be put to the best use.
Emily was very happy to oblige, on condition, not open to negotiation, that Charlotte tell her every single detail of the case and include her in all future efforts. For this she would be willing to lend her any garment she liked throughout the duration of the endeavor.
Therefore at ten o’clock the next morning Charlotte was looking radiant, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright, when Caroline Ellison arrived in a whirl of chocolate-and-gold-colored silks and a hat reminiscent of a turban.
“Good morning, Mama!” Charlotte said in surprise, both at the hat and at Caroline’s unheralded arrival. It would be quiteneedless to ask if there were anything wrong; Caroline’s face was shining with well-being.
“Good morning, my dear,” Caroline responded, looking around Charlotte’s bedroom, where they were as Charlotte put the finishing touches to her hair. “You look very well, but I am afraid a little funereal. Could you not put a touch of something brighter, at least around your neck? All this somberness may be fashionable, but it is a little extreme, don’t you think?”
“It’s not in the least fashionable,” Charlotte said with astonishment. “Total black—in April!”
Caroline brushed it aside with a wave of her hand. “I have quite lost touch with fashion lately. Anyway, it still needs a little color. What about something different, unexpected? When I think of it, red is rather ordinary.” She glanced around. “What about—oh, what do people not put with black?” She held up her hand against interruption while she thought. “I know—saffron. I have never seen anyone with black and saffron.”
“Not anyone with a looking glass, anyway,” Charlotte agreed.
“Oh! You don’t like it? I thought it would be rather different.”
“Completely different, Mama. And as I am going to a memorial service, I think the family might well be offended. I hear they are rather conventional anyway.”
Caroline’s face fell. “Oh—I didn’t know. Who is it? Do I know them? I hadn’t heard …”
“You would have read the newspapers.” Charlotte put the last pin in her hair and surveyed the effect.
“I don’t read obituaries anymore.” Caroline perched on the edge of the bed, her skirts draped beautifully.
“No, I expect you read the theater notices and reviews,” Charlotte said with a shade of asperity. She was delighted to see her mother so brimming with life and so obviously happy, but she was never able to banish for long the fear of the misery when it all ended, as it would have to. What about trying to regain the old life then? But she had already said all these things before, as had Emily. This was not the time to pursue it again, especially when she was about to leave in a few moments and could not even try to see the subject to a decent end.
“They are a great deal more uplifting to begin the day than a list of the people one knows who are dead,” Caroline said with a half apology. “And even more so than of those one did not know. Obituaries tend to be rather repetitive.”
“This one wasn’t.” Charlotte enjoyed the drama. “He had his head cut off in Hyde Park.”
Caroline let out her breath in a gasp.
“Captain Winthrop! But you didn’t know him—did you?”
“No, of course not. But Great-Aunt Vespasia’s friend, Mr. Justice Quade, did.”
“You mean Thomas is on the case,” Caroline interpreted.
“I mean that also,” Charlotte admitted, standing up from her dressing table. “It really is very complicated and difficult. I might learn something of use. Anyway, I am going.”
“Yes, I can see that.”
“Why did you call, Mama? Was there some special reason?” She began looking
Emily was very happy to oblige, on condition, not open to negotiation, that Charlotte tell her every single detail of the case and include her in all future efforts. For this she would be willing to lend her any garment she liked throughout the duration of the endeavor.
Therefore at ten o’clock the next morning Charlotte was looking radiant, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright, when Caroline Ellison arrived in a whirl of chocolate-and-gold-colored silks and a hat reminiscent of a turban.
“Good morning, Mama!” Charlotte said in surprise, both at the hat and at Caroline’s unheralded arrival. It would be quiteneedless to ask if there were anything wrong; Caroline’s face was shining with well-being.
“Good morning, my dear,” Caroline responded, looking around Charlotte’s bedroom, where they were as Charlotte put the finishing touches to her hair. “You look very well, but I am afraid a little funereal. Could you not put a touch of something brighter, at least around your neck? All this somberness may be fashionable, but it is a little extreme, don’t you think?”
“It’s not in the least fashionable,” Charlotte said with astonishment. “Total black—in April!”
Caroline brushed it aside with a wave of her hand. “I have quite lost touch with fashion lately. Anyway, it still needs a little color. What about something different, unexpected? When I think of it, red is rather ordinary.” She glanced around. “What about—oh, what do people not put with black?” She held up her hand against interruption while she thought. “I know—saffron. I have never seen anyone with black and saffron.”
“Not anyone with a looking glass, anyway,” Charlotte agreed.
“Oh! You don’t like it? I thought it would be rather different.”
“Completely different, Mama. And as I am going to a memorial service, I think the family might well be offended. I hear they are rather conventional anyway.”
Caroline’s face fell. “Oh—I didn’t know. Who is it? Do I know them? I hadn’t heard …”
“You would have read the newspapers.” Charlotte put the last pin in her hair and surveyed the effect.
“I don’t read obituaries anymore.” Caroline perched on the edge of the bed, her skirts draped beautifully.
“No, I expect you read the theater notices and reviews,” Charlotte said with a shade of asperity. She was delighted to see her mother so brimming with life and so obviously happy, but she was never able to banish for long the fear of the misery when it all ended, as it would have to. What about trying to regain the old life then? But she had already said all these things before, as had Emily. This was not the time to pursue it again, especially when she was about to leave in a few moments and could not even try to see the subject to a decent end.
“They are a great deal more uplifting to begin the day than a list of the people one knows who are dead,” Caroline said with a half apology. “And even more so than of those one did not know. Obituaries tend to be rather repetitive.”
“This one wasn’t.” Charlotte enjoyed the drama. “He had his head cut off in Hyde Park.”
Caroline let out her breath in a gasp.
“Captain Winthrop! But you didn’t know him—did you?”
“No, of course not. But Great-Aunt Vespasia’s friend, Mr. Justice Quade, did.”
“You mean Thomas is on the case,” Caroline interpreted.
“I mean that also,” Charlotte admitted, standing up from her dressing table. “It really is very complicated and difficult. I might learn something of use. Anyway, I am going.”
“Yes, I can see that.”
“Why did you call, Mama? Was there some special reason?” She began looking
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