“I didn’t let him. You don’t want ever to appear too eager, remember? I think that was womanly talk three. The more he longs for you, the more control you have. Once you surrender, even a little, they seize the reins. As I suspected, he wasn’t upset about it but not turned away from me because of it. He is wise enough to know that I’m a woman of character who is full of self-respect.”

“They said you said you kissed him a lot.”

“I told them what they wanted to hear. Besides,” I added, sipping the last of my coffee, “he disappeared after that, and I didn’t see him for the remainder of the gala.”

“Oh. Then maybe he was too disappointed.”

“I wouldn’t come to that conclusion, no,” I quickly replied. It was my own stabbing fear. “Actually, I might see him again, and soon, matter of fact.”

“How? Where?”

“I’m going to visit my great-aunt Nettie, who lives in Charlottesville, and he lives just outside of the city in his family mansion. I mentioned that I would write to let him know, and he was quite happy to hear that. He gave me his card so I would do so.”

She looked thoughtful and then unhappy.

“What’s bothering you?”

“I just knew one day you’d find an older man and leave me behind.”

“Maybe he has a friend. I could arrange a blind date. You could sneak off and join us.”

Her eyes widened. “I couldn’t do that. I mean . . . do you think I could?”

“You never know until you do,” I said. “Come on upstairs. We’ll talk as I put on my cycling outfit. I think I need to ride a little and clear my head. When you get this close to a real romance, you have to be extra careful, and that means constantly alert, reconsidering, reviewing, and questioning your own feelings.”

She nodded as if she had the experience.

I rose and put the dishes in the sink. When my mother saw them and chastised me for leaving them there, I would tell her I had planned to do it later, as I always told her. She would accuse me of knowing that she wouldn’t wait, she wouldn’t leave a dirty dish for someone to see. Of course, she was right about me, but it was her own fault that she was so obsessive about it. Besides, washing dishes and clothes damaged and aged your hands.

As I changed, I described Garland a little more, stressing how attentive he was and how polite. She sat on my bed, clinging to my every syllable.

“It’s nice to experience a mature gentleman. I doubt I’ll ever give boys our age a second glance again,” I said. “Being with someone older forces you to act older, too. But I think I told you most of this one time or another.”