“Oh, yes. The doctor was quite certain that I had suffered an irreparable harm at the fright. I remember quite clearly: he said, ‘Madam, your nerves will never be sound, no matter what I do.’ My only hope is that I live to see my girls married. Preparing for a wedding will do my poor nerves in, but I would do anything for my girls.” She dabbed at her eyes with the tiniest, most delicate scrap of handkerchief. “Only imagine: my nerves will never be sound.”

“I am surprized that the doctor said that; to me your nerves have always seemed so strong. But then, to one who suffers as I do, anyone with greater health is to be admired.”

Melody set her fringe down suddenly. “I have just remembered that a tonic of rose petals is supposed to provide comfort for injured nerves.”

“May I help you with that?” Jane stood at the chance to escape the unvarying conversation which their mother had with Mrs. Marchand, one which revolved only around their various ailments and the marriage prospects for their daughters.

“Thank you, yes. I will definitely need your help, and of course, we would both do anything for our beloved mother.” So saying, Melody retreated through the drawing room door with Jane close behind her, neither girl giving either of the older ladies time to voice a word of protestation.

As soon as they were out the front door of the house, Melody lifted her skirts and ran for the Long Walk. Laughing, Jane ran after her, feeling as if their governess were chasing her with a tonic. In truth, the combined forces of her mother and Mrs. Marchand were almost as bad.

Turning into the maze, she chased her sister to the center, where a few blossoms still clung to the rosebushes. Melody collapsed onto the bench, laughing and breathless. Jane tumbled down beside her.

In the blush of their narrow escape, they were only capable of laughter. Anyone passing the maze would have thought a gaggle of schoolgirls had gotten lost in its midst. By gasps and hiccups they caught their breath again, only to look at one another and burst into laughter anew.

Jane knew that only a small part of this was hilarity at the supposed escape. More of it was a release of the tension which both had been under for days.

Throwing her head back and exposing her swanlike neck, Melody laughed anew. “I could not remain there for a moment longer.”

“We will have to go back, eventually.”

“Then let us delay as long as we might.”

“But if we stay too long, Mama will think that we have become lost in the maze, or, worse, that wild beasts have ravaged us.”

“Let her!” Melody sprang to her feet and ran to the roses. “Perhaps if I tear my gown on the roses, she will imagine wolves and tigers stalking the maze; then it will always be a place to which we can retreat.”