She felt joy as she wrote, but it was mixed with new fear. Would he want to hear from her? She’d not seen him in over a year. Perhaps he wanted to forget everything before the war. Or he was terribly busy, not the sort of person who wrote letters much. She had to admit she didn’t really know what sort of person he actually was. She wondered how badly the war had affected him. She wrote him a cheery letter, the letter of a good clear Boston girl. She sent it in February. In late April she had heard nothing.

One day at the Fenwicks’ for tea, Madelaine Fenwick mentioned in her bored way that the Vails had gone to see Walter in Paris and that according to them he had become quite parisien. He was thinking of writing a book about some aspect of French architecture.

Lilian, trying for the offhand, asked if he were still living at rue des Grands-Augustins and Madelaine stood up, not in the least curious why Lilian would want to know, and came back with a blue air mail envelope. Lilian looked at it as if an ancient relic had been unveiled. Madelaine languidly perused the envelope, looked inside at the small pages. Yes, she said, number fourteen, rue des Grands-Augustins. That was it. Then she cast a curious glance at Lilian.

Lilian mumbled something about a friend’s having seen him in Paris and leaned forward for more tea.

How is the old charmer? said Dolly Cushing. Not hearing a great deal from Lilian, she assumed the infatuation had passed. He was naughty, wasn’t he?

Lilian thought about this comment later and wondered about Dolly Cushing’s contact.

Madelaine shrugged. I suppose so, she said. Though I never saw the attraction. He’s amusing but I could never imagine being interested in him that way. She looked idly at the letter, let it drop on the table. Lilian considered how if it were in her hands she would have it pressed to her breast.

She could only assume, then, that Walter Vail had gotten her letter and chose not to reply.

She was sick over it. She sat with Jane by the pond and threw stones into it, growing morose. Lilian no longer had the same proud feeling of love for him. It had slipped toward embarrassment. Was it the war which had changed him? Look at the Searses’ hardly recognizing their son Bud or how when you got close you saw that Charlie Sprague shook. Maybe it was the war. Jane supported this theory. In that case, Lilian was the first to understand — she was an understanding girl.

Her mind went round and round, believing in him one moment, mortified the next. The worst thing was not knowing, she thought, but then, she still had hope.

16 • Lilian suffers

16 • Lilian suffers