“Move to London?” he imagined where she might be headed with this line of questioning. “I am not planning to locate in London. My home, family, and responsibilities are in Dorset. If I am to be successful as an artist, it must be from the work I do there.”
“Ah…” She ceased her inquiry, and they walked on in silence for a few moments.
“And you, Miss Modesty, what are your plans for the future? You play the piano quite beautifully. Might you be on a path to a musical career?”
Modesty laughed. “Oh, George, how droll you are. Me? A career in music? I have never heard of anything so absurd.”
“And why is that?” he asked a little surprised by her bluntness.
“I have no intention of becoming a starving performer. I intend to marry—and marry well. I am highly positioned in London society, and I have any number of active suitors.”
“I see.”
They continued in silence for a while longer. Then Modesty said, “It is much warmer than I thought. Might we avail ourselves of an ice? There is a cart on the other side of the park.” Modesty removed her shawl and handed it to George to carry for her.
“Of course, however, not anticipating any expenditure, I did not bring any change with me.”
“What a bother. Very well, then it shall be my treat. I always carry a little pocket money in case of an emergency.”
George felt embarrassed and found that his first infatuation with this beautiful woman was rapidly beginning to fade. She had not exhibited the qualities of modesty—despite her name—grace, refinement or humility that he found so charming and endearing in his dear friend Lucy, for example.
“If you would like an ice I shall be happy to reimburse you upon our return to the house. I am a gentleman, after all, and cannot bear to think if you were paying for your own treat.”
“Very well. Then what shall it be—vanilla, chocolate or strawberry?”
* * *
Lucy, who was now in conversation with Aunt Hester, saw the two strollers when they returned to the house. George immediately went up the stairs as Modesty came in and sat in a chair near the piano. George returned and handed her a few coins.
“Oh, George, that was really not necessary. It cost practically nothing.” But she pocketed the coins, nonetheless.
“A true gentleman always pays his debts.”
“Did you have a lovely stroll?” Aunt Hester asked George.
“Most delightful,” was all he said without elaboration.
“Your Lucy and I have been having the most delightful conversation about children’s books,” Aunt Hester said, “It seems many have been around for a long time and are out of date with the interests of today’s children.”
George wandered over and sat in a chair next to Lucy. She gave him a quick glance, and he flashed her a most generous smile.
Lucy could not put her finger on it exactly, but it appeared that George was no longer fawning over the delightful Miss Modesty. The two strollers sat on opposite sides of the room and just as Lucy was about to engage in conversation with Aunt Hester, once again, Modesty stood and nodded to Aunt, and headed out the door without a look, a nod or a word to George.
Aunt Hester could not suppress a yawn. “Oh, dear… please excuse me. I am accustomed to an afternoon nap, which I have missed in greeting you. But I must retire until supper time which is at seven.”
George stood, offered his hand to Aunt to help her out of the sofa and escorted her to the sitting room door.
“Aunt, have a pleasant snooze, and we shall see you at supper.”
Aunt patted his cheek. “You have been brought up well and are a charming young man.” Then she left.
George turned back to Lucy. They were alone. He stood looking at her for a moment, but she did not regard him. She was still in turmoil over what she had witnessed between George and Miss Modesty. She had no idea what had transpired between them on their walk and could not bring herself to ask.
George came over and sat again on the chair next to where she was sitting. And he did not take his eyes off of her.
“You are very silent and inward. Are you feeling tired after the journey?” he asked.
She was not certain she could look up at him without bursting into tears. What was wrong with her? She had never behaved like this before. Had never felt the gnawing pain of jealousy twisting her insides. But with great effort, she calmed herself, looked up at him with no tears, and said, “I have been a little upset.”
