“Thank you. Incidentally, this is why I feel entitled to tell you that you don’t owe your mother a thing, Alice.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Your mother.” Nellie looked over. “You see, my mother died when I was eight and I would give almost anything to get her back. But as much as I wish I had a mother—and believe me, I have spent many nights crying over it—I would not want yours. Do you understand what I am saying?”

“That your mother was not like mine?”

“Not all mothers belittle their daughters and make them feel small. You might not realize as much, but many mothers are loving and nurturing. Supportive. Friendly. Which is why you should not feel badly for cutting her out of your life when you marry. At all.”

“Cutting her—” Alice sucked in a breath. “I could never. She is family.”

Nellie reached over and clasped Alice’s hand. “Even a strong family can have a rotten branch or two. It’s better to cut those branches off for the tree to remain healthy.”

Alice considered this. Cut her mother out of her life? She hadn’t thought such a thing possible. “I would feel terrible.”

“Because you are a kind and decent person. But one thing I’ve learned over the years is that sometimes you must put your own happiness first—and women rarely have the opportunity to do so. Don’t squander your chance.”

Alice stared at her feet. Nellie understood. She understood the longing and frustration, the little ways that a person shoved their dreams aside because they were told they weren’t good enough. Or that it wasn’t proper. The thousand tiny cuts that shredded a person’s will until there was nothing left but blind obedience and surrender.

Alice said softly, “I dream of moving as far away as possible. Leaving New York and starting a family on another continent.”

“That would certainly be possible with Lockwood. But I suspect your interest lies elsewhere.” Nellie bumped her shoulder against Alice’s. “By the way, I saw you leave his room yesterday.”

Alice sat up, panic flooding her bloodstream and making it impossible to draw a breath. “What?”

“Don’t worry. I haven’t said anything to anyone. Save Kit, of course.”

“You did? What did he say?”

“That the two of you are merely friends. Business associates of a sort. Do you have feelings for him?”

“No,” Alice blurted. “Of course not. That would be absurd.”

“Why absurd? Has he hurt you?”

“No, absolutely not. I merely meant he is not the marrying kind.”

Nellie picked up a pebble and rolled it down the stairs. “In my experience, men aren’t the marrying kind until they are the marrying kind.”

“What does that mean?”