“It is. Look here, Emma, ye have ter come to the concert; ye promised David. Ye can’t stand him up like this. He’ll be hurt.”

“I must finish the gown,” she said calmly. “I thought I could do it by last night, but I haven’t been able to get it done, I’m afraid.”

“Surely ye can be a few days late,” Blackie said, staring at her. As he looked at that beautiful face, now somewhat pinched and tired, he noticed a sudden obdurate expression settle on it; her green eyes were steely. His heart sank. He knew how stubborn she could be, and that once her mind was made up it wouldn’t change. She had a will of iron, which she exercised often.

A rush of anger mingled with impatience rushed through him, but he held his temper down. “What shall I say ter David?” he asked in a clipped tone, glaring at her. “What excuse shall I give?”

“Tell him I’m sorry I can’t come, but I will make it up to him, and have supper next week,” Emma answered, still in her steady, calm voice. “Say that’s a promise.”

Blackie and Laura walked down to Armley Park together, taking the Ridge Road route. Laura’s hand was tucked into Blackie’s arm, but both were silent, lost in their own thoughts, preoccupied.

Blackie was fuming inside, still angry with Emma; Laura was upset for David, who she knew was enamored, had a real crush on Emma, even wanted to marry her. He would be disappointed when they arrived without her.

By the time they reached the gates of the park, Blackie had managed to shake off his anger and he turned to Laura and smiled at her.

“Do ye want a lemonade, mavourneen? Or a cordial? Or another sparkling drink?”

“Thanks, Blackie, a lemonade would be nice.”

“I’ll have one too,” he said, going up to the drinks stall outside the gates, putting his hand in his pocket for the pennies, chatting with the stall holder in his usual jovial manner.

Once inside, Blackie’s dark eyes sparkled. “Look at this, Laura, we’re early and there are plenty of seats at the front. Come on, mavourneen, let’s get settled before the rush starts.”

The two of them headed for the second row in front of the bandstand, where the musicians were starting to get set up. One of the musicians bumped into the cymbals, which made a clatter, while another was testing his brass trombone. Noise, but good noise, and expectations of a wonderful afternoon.