She mentioned her hands were getting cold, meaning they should go in, and before she knew it Walter Vail had stopped her on the ice and taken one glove in his bare hands to rub at her fingers in a smooth, natural way. It was clear this was not out of the ordinary for him to be warming a girl’s hand. Her whole body had a strange relaxed feeling.

Over Walter Vail’s shoulder she saw Arthur down at the other end of the pond near the curling players. He was up on the bank, talking to some young people she’d never seen before. One girl was dressed in a long cape, and the other boys wore hats set at angles. All were smoking. Around them was an air of raciness, and decay.

6 • Tea

6 • Tea

WHO WERE your friends? Lilian asked Arthur. They were on their way to Fairfield Street where they’d asked Walter Vail for tea.

Arthur had learned from his father to ignore questions of no interest to him and talked about the curling game. Did she know that the Finch brothers were national champions?

Of curling? Lilian said, kicking open the heavy door.

The house on Fairfield Street had two halls, one a narrow entryway where light from a lead-starred window made patterns on the floor, then the wider proper hallway with a standing grandfather clock and green Chinese urns standing empty. White shelves in the corner displayed china, a plate and two vases on one shelf, a pair of parrots flanking a tureen on the next, china baskets and so on. Plates were decorated with eagles, arrows crossed beneath their claws, or trimmed with borders of blue and gold. The Canton china, blue and white pagodas and bridges, was in the dining room and got used. On a narrow table with wood inlays, beneath a distorting mirror, was a shallow china dish with straight sides where the mail was placed twice a day.

The library had the smell of smoky tea. There were chairs with leather seats and backs attached to wooden arms and legs by brass studs. A low sofa faced the fireplace, a potted palm leaned toward a corner window.

The living room did not look so different though it was larger, with bookshelves lining the walls and two blue Sheraton sofas facing each other. There was a standing lamp with a ruffled trim, Persian rugs on the floor, and if it were summer a side table holding a glass bowl of rhododendrons from the bush outside. On the desk near the green blotter with leather sides, the leather-handled letter opener and the decorative cut glass inkwells were pieces of driftwood dotted with carved sea birds in different poses. Some were simply standing, others had wings spread, posed to take flight.