Crestfallen, I scanned my brother’s letter first.

“Dries says Theo has thrown himself completely into the Bohemian lifestyle.” I summarized as I read. “He’s running around with his young painter friends and ruining his health. He avoids Dries’s company.” Cutting guilt had me lowering the page. “I fear it might have to do with my rejection of him last year. I feel responsible. Dries has been lonely in Paris. And now I’ve ruined even this friendship for him.”

“And what does Theo have to say?” Anna removed her hat and held her hand out for mine to hang them both. “I can’t believe he still writes you.”

“Frequently. I am even corresponding with one of his sisters, Wilhelmina. We share a love of literature. Theo encouraged her to reach out to me.”

“Leave it to you to make a new friend just to talk about books.” Anna’s laugh was indulgent. “Does Theo still profess his love?”

“He writes about art and politics for the most part. And books,” I added, knowing it would elicit a groan from Anna. It did. “He challenges my views. His friendship might be good for me. Dries always says being challenged is the only way to grow.” I finished Dries’s letter and looked up. “Does Jan challenge you?”

“Goodness no. And neither should he. I wish for nothing but peace and harmony in my marriage. I should not like to be put out by wild ideas.”

I cut Theo’s letter open. He and I had been discussing the institution of marriage, and he continued where he last left off. “You know, Theo believes as you do, that love and deep affection in a marriage is built day by day.”

“While you wish for passion described in those silly novels.” Anna’s indulgent smile widened. “You are supposed to enjoy them, Jo, not believe them.”

“I think a couple should be in love before saying their vows.”

“Have something like you have with Eduard?”

Just hearing his name on Anna’s lips made my soul ache. I silently nodded.

“But do you, Jo?” Distress clouded Anna’s bright eyes. “Do you truly have anything with him?”

I had to grit my teeth so I wouldn’t say anything that would offend my oldest friend.

Easy for her to belittle my thwarted love when she was so close to matrimony. What did she know about the agony of endlessly waiting and hoping? Resentment lodged in my throat like one of Dr. Hollinger’s dry, course-ground peasant rolls. I had to work to swallow it all down.

I escaped to the window with my letters and stared out at the sea, feeling as if the gray waves were churning inside me.

Anna came to lay her narrow hand gently on my arm. “I didn’t mean to vex you.”

“I must hold on to hope.”