But to which “girl” he referred, I still have no idea. Perhaps the doll had called to mind someone of whom he was fond, for a faraway smile slanted out beneath his mustaches.

28 September

“Who was it you walked with yesterday?”

“Was I walking, Sue?”

She flushed. “I saw you leaving from the stair window. I wanted to catch you up, but you disappeared so fast, it seemed, as if you went to meet someone.”

“I did.”

“Who? Tell me, Nell.” Her hand held fast to my arm.

“Myself.”

“Ha! I do not think so.”

“Well, it is so.” I stepped from her grip and walked the rest of the way down the staircase toward Grandfather Reuben’s library. But she ran quickly down beside me and drew her arm beneath mine, pulling me toward the open, sunny door. I let myself be led by her, half-loving being taken in this way, and also curious to see where she meant us to go, what new plan she had for us to follow.

We crossed the threshold and stepped out onto the porch’s protective cape. Sue meant to sit outside, her sorting basket already placed just to the side of the painted bench by the front door, and I noticed she had brought me a book to pretend to read by. I looked down the lawn and saw a brave scene indeed, for there they all were, clustered about a crop of rocks beside the boathouse. Hayden Gilroy crouched down at eye level with the rocks, and above him stood George, paying rapt attention, his hands on his knees, bending down to follow something our cousin explained. Mr. Ludlow Thomas stood a little to one side, his arms crossed, listening to Hayden but looking out to sea. For a time, we two sat in silence, watching this masculine tableau below us.

“Who is the better man?”

“George, of course.”

She slapped at my dress beside her. “Nay. Answer me.”

“Who is the better man, do you think, Sue?”

She squinted and tipped her head, looking for all the world like a holiday painter there by my side.

“The one is very tall and handsome, and seeming wise, I think. And, of course, with a considerable fortune.”

“And a fiancée,” I put in flatly. “What about the other?”

“The other is …” She did not continue. I watched the men.

“If he weren’t engaged, Mr. Thomas would suit you nicely, don’t you think, Nell?”

I answered contrarily for the fun of watching her color rise. “Nay, Sue.” I leaned over and whispered in her ear, my hand resting upon her neck. “The other suits me more.”

She whirled round her head to face me.

“Was it he you walked with yesterday, Nell?”

“How can you know there was a he?”

She colored.

Susannah, dear, are you reading this?

29 September