Jane sat in silence, struggling to compose herself. If she had any hope of taming her sister’s notions of propriety, then she would have to find a way to mend this breach between them.

Nine

A Tonic in the Maze

It seemed as if Jane’s words to Melody had some effect, for Melody assayed a rapid recovery from her false injury. The next day she was declaring that she felt quite fit and that the injury had not been as severe as she initially thought. Jane heard her own words parroted back when Mr. Dunkirk and his sister came to call: “The shock of the fall made me think that the injury was greater than it was.”

His doubt was so apparent that Melody suggested they walk among the shrubbery to prove that she was quite steady on her feet. He ventured to question whether that would be wise, which only made Melody the more determined to go out. “The paths in the shrubbery are quite flat and well paved. There is not the slightest danger of injury, I assure you.”

Mr. Dunkirk appealed to Jane. “Do you think it is quite safe?”

Beside him, Melody’s face was a mute mask of appeal.

“If my sister says she is well, then I am quite certain she is able to walk,” Jane replied.

They set out to explore expanse of the shrubbery, as Miss Dunkirk had only previously been on the Long Walk. The tall yew hedges provided ample opportunity for the parties to become separated from one another. Jane, perceiving that the surest way to shew her sister that she had no cause to be jealous was by withdrawing and allowing her to walk alone with Mr. Dunkirk, contrived to draw Miss Dunkirk deeper into the twisting passages of the shrubbery and then into the maze carved into its center.

Miss Dunkirk exclaimed in delight upon learning of the maze and at once wanted to find the middle of it. They set off, leaving Mr. Dunkirk and Melody promenading down the Long Walk. Jane followed a few paces behind Miss Dunkirk, hiding a smile as they rounded one corner and then the next, knowing full well that it would lead to a dead end. Though she had long since memorized the maze, she remembered the satisfaction of learning the paths as a child. Now, she never led anyone straight to the heart of the maze, but rather let them find it on their own so that they might enjoy the same pleasure of solving a puzzle.

This same satisfaction came to her when she was trying to understand a particularly complicated bit of glamour or piece together the answer to a charade; puzzles in all their forms fascinated her.

After a happy wander, they came to the rose beds in the middle of the maze. Heavy blossoms still bobbed on their canes in a dwindling palette of pinks, reds, and whites.