Afterwards he’d taken her up to the Athenaeum — he had a few minutes before getting back to the office of the shipping company — where they looked at portraits of his ancestors. Some of them were buried down the hill in back of King’s Chapel where some of Lilian’s relatives also resided. Judge Henry Gilbert Finch had pounded the gavel on display in the Old State House, the oldest gavel in the country. They stood in a marbled doorway of the Athenaeum looking into a reading area and saw a girl lift the pad of paper on which she’d been writing and kiss the bottom of the page. Lilian turned to Gilbert to catch his eye, but turned away not wanting to embarrass him. That he was blushing terribly she felt was a good sign.

26 • Mrs. Eliot is surprised

26 • Mrs. Eliot is surprised

SHE INVITED him to tea. He stood in the doorway when she opened it, holding a brown hat in his large soft hands. His coat was buttoned irregularly over a vest. He smiled without showing his teeth.

Lilian led him in, took his hat to the library, and brought him into the living room.

Pa, this is Gilbert Finch and, Ma, I think you’ve met?

Gilbert Finch shook their hands naturally.

Mrs. Eliot regarded him with confusion. Why, certainly, she said with a scattered look.

Knew your old man in school, Mr. Eliot said. Behind me.

Mr. and Mrs. Eliot were using the different voice reserved for people outside the family.

Tea? Lilian said.

They sat down. Gilbert Finch sat on the leather-cushioned guard in front of the fireplace, a spot usually taken by children. He stretched his legs out in front of him, showing his socks, balancing on his heels.

Mrs. Eliot smiled doubtfully. Mr. Eliot patted his watch pocket. Lilian felt Gilbert Finch’s pale gaze. She poured tea past a cup’s brim, drained it from the saucer, and fumbled with sugar tongs. The finer strands of her dark hair had loosened and were wreathed into a sort of web. No bones showed in her full face making her look younger than her twenty-six years. Her chin was slightly cleft, her lips were pursed.

Was surprised to see he’d become a doctor, Mr. Eliot said. Gilbert Finch looked at him blankly. Your father, I mean.

Gilbert Finch saw no reason to respond.

That is, Mr. Eliot went on. Always getting into mischief, your father. He let out a gruff laugh.

I can see how one might think that’s a surprise, said Gilbert Finch. He regarded Mr. Eliot with such a clear pale look that Lilian found her father looking muddled and, even more astonishing to the daughter, foolish.

Lilian handed Gilbert Finch a cup.