Father leaned his head against the back of the chair. “Ah yes, passion. Certainly, a concept most treasured by you young people today. But I can assure you, passion is not everything in a marriage. Why it was not that long ago that all marriages were arranged—and I can assure you, most were entered into with very little passioninvolved.”
“But that is not as true today,” Dianaresponded.
Her father nodded, then leaned in and said, “My dear child, let me assure you that I know of what Ispeak.”
“You andmother?”
“She may never have told you, but we were not what you callin lovewhen we married. Our families, while not actuallyarrangingthe marriage, applied a great deal of pressure for us to become engaged. And to which we finallyagreed.”
“I did notknow.”
“And when you think about it, your situation is not all that dissimilar from ours. I was a promising scholar like your Adam, and Ann was an artist with a modest talent. Neither family had a great deal of wealth, but I was offered a fellowship at the university, and your mother was able to bring in an income from her paintings. And as neither of us had any other romantic prospects we decided to marry. More from a business standpoint and to please our parents than from any great passion. But I would also remind you that we did grow to love each other—verymuch.”
“I had no idea,” Diana said softly. “Let me think about all of this. I certainly want to help the family if I can. And if that means accepting a proposal from Adam in order to help then, I will certainly considerthat.”
* * *
Diana was exhausted.She had tossed sleeplessly all night. Her mind had been consumed with thoughts about her family and Adam, and what she might be able to do to help solve her family’s urgentproblem.
She sat on the edge of her bed after a sleepy breakfast and decided there was no way she would be able to attend to her writing this morning. Her head felt like raw wool that had not been carded—a tangledmess.
There was only one thing she could think to do, and that was to go visit her best friends, the twins, Miriam and Geoffrey Sinclair, who lived at the end of the cross street that ran along the side of the Browning’shouse.
The Sinclair front door flung open. “Oh… it is you!” Geoffrey exclaimed and then turned and shouted into the house, “Our Di justappeared.”
There was a squeal from deep inside, and then the sound of running feet. Miriam appeared over Geoffrey’sshoulder.
“Look at you. Have you been run over by acart?”
“Rescue, rescue,” Geoffrey shouted as he pulled Diana inside and grabbed her by onearm.
“Oh, my gosh, she needs a transfusion at the very least,” Miriam said grabbing her by the otherarm.
Diana was then marched into the morning parlor and forced to sit between them on thesofa.
There was no question these two were twins. Both had curly blond hair—which they wore identically in a floppy, casual way. They had slightly round faces with blue eyes and blushing cheeks. And they flailed their hands and arms around with the same wildexaggeration.
The two turned to look at her. Geoffrey gestured with his finger in front of her face like he was making a sketch. Miriam fiddled with Diana’shair.
“Whatcan…”
“be done?” they bothsaid.
Diana was almost too tired to resist, but she disengaged from their grasp and flung her arms out in a circle to clear her space from their intrusion. Shestood.
“I am fine. Just fine. Well… not exactlyfine, but I do not need fussingover.”
The twins leaned back away fromher.
“But mydear…”
“it must be something,” the two said—one completing the other’ssentence.
Diana sat back down and sighed. She leaned her head against Geoffrey’s shoulder. “If I tell you, you must promise and swear that you will never, never, never tell another livingsoul.”
“Oh,my…”
“serious business,” the twinssaid.
