Again Amala was bathed with relief. Now that the opportunity was before her, she couldn’t get out of here fast enough. Perhaps running away from problems would not solve them, but in this case, she believed it would. She exchanged a smile with Paulina and thanked God for bringing this wonderful woman back to her right when she’d needed her most. She did have an extra sense. And it had guided her to be the means of making a miracle happen for Amala. She left the bulk of her breakfast uneaten and hurried up to her room to get on her knees and thank God for providing such a miracle; then she rang for Pearl and began packing her things, pausing through the day only long enough to eat and to write Henry an appropriate note of explanation, which she sealed and put into her Everett’s hands for safe delivery. By evening she was mostly ready to go, counting the hours until she could remove herself from this place with all of its bigotry and piousness and social snobbery. And especially until she could get very, very far away from Henry. She believed it was the only way they could both truly heal and be able to find happiness in this life without each other.

Chapter Seven

DISTANT HEARTS

Henry avoided going to Willenbrock House for a few days, uncharacteristically overcome with the motivation to do many things that he’d been procrastinating. He took care of some estate business that needed his attention, met with the doctor in regard to his mother’s health issues, and made a formal visit to Chit’s home, since he’d been avoiding their dinner invitations—because he’d preferred being at Willenbrock House prior to the demise of his relationship with Amala, and since then he’d preferred being completely antisocial. Focusing entirely on business and practical matters helped him keep his mind off of his broken heart, except at night when he was completely alone, and then he felt as if he’d lost her to death—except perhaps this was worse. She was alive and well, and so was he—physically at least. But their separation had become a chasm that was apparently impossible to bridge.

Following a fine dinner with Chit and his family, the two friends went to a parlor in the house that had been a favorite of theirs ever since childhood.

“Now that we’re alone,” Chit said while he poured a small amount of brandy into two snifters, “I’m hoping you’ll tell me what’s really going on with you. Your ability to behave as if everything is normal is impressive; I’ll give you that, old boy. But I know you better than that, and I can see through it.” He handed Henry a snifter and sat down across from him, staring him down while he took a long sip of his drink. “Out with it, man.”