was so young, not more than twenty-two or twenty-three.',
Charlotte looked from one to the other of them, waiting for an explanation.
'Oh, you wouldn't know her,' Mina said, seizing the chance. 'She was Ambrosine Charrington's daughter- Inigo's sister. Really a most tragic affair altogether. They were away for a few weeks during the summer. Ottilie was in perfect health when they left-at least she seemed so. And then within a mere fortnight she was dead! Quite dreadful! We were all completely at a loss!'
'I'm so sorry.' Charlotte meant it; the story of life cut short was suddenly sobering in the midst of all the silly chatter and games of social superiority. 'How very painful-for her family, I mean.'
Mina's slender fingers roamed over her skirt again, laying it even more smoothly over her knees.
'Actually, they have borne it with the greatest fortitude.' Her fine eyebrows rose as if she were still surprised by it. 'One cannot but admire them, most especially Ambrosine herself- that is, Mrs. Charrington-she has risen above it so magnificently. If one did not know of it for oneself, one would almost believe it had not happened at all. They never speak of her, you know!'
'No doubt the wound is still there,' Charlotte answered. 'One never forgets, no matter how brave one's face.'
'Oh dear!' Mina crumpled. 'I do hope I have not inadvertently said something distressing, my dear Mrs. Pitt? Nothing was further from my mind than to cause you some painful memory.'
Charlotte smiled at her, pushing Sarah from her thoughts and hoping Caroline could do so too.
'I would never imagine that you might,' she said quietly. 'I expect everyone has suffered some loss or another. There cannot be a family in the land that has never had death rob them of someone.'
Before Mina could.search for a courteous acceptance of this, the withdrawing-room door opened and a very elderly lady came in, her face creased with irritation, a fine lace shawl drawn round her shoulders, and her black boots polished like glass.
'Good afternoon, Mrs. Spencer-Brown,' she said curtly.
'Didn't know you were entertaining this afternoon, Caroline.
Cook said nothing at luncheon!' She looked at Charlotte, then took a step closer. 'Good gracious! It's Charlotte!' She snorted
slightly. 'Decided to come back into decent Society, have you?'
'Good afternoon, Grandmama.' Charlotte stood up and offered her the most comfortable chair, which she herself had been occupying until that moment.
The old lady accepted it after rearranging the cushions and dusting the seat. She sat down, and Charlotte found herself a hard-backed chair.
'Better for you anyway.' The old lady nodded. 'Get a round back sitting in one of these at your age. Girls always sat up properly when I was young. Knew how to conduct ourselves then. None of this gadding about without chaperones, going to the theater, and the like! And electricity all over the place! It must be unhealthy. Goodness only knows what's in the air! Gas lamps are quite bad enough. If the good Lord had intended it to be light all night, He would have made the moon as bright as the sun.'
Mina ignored her and turned to Charlotte with excitement. 'Do you go to the theater alone, Mrs. Pitt? How thrilling! Do tell us, do you have adventures?'
Grandmama pulled out a handkerchief and blew her nose loudly. Charlotte hovered on the edge of pretending that she did do such a thing, to annoy her grandmother, then decided the embar shy;rassment it would cause Caroline was too great to balance the pleasure.
'No, no, I never have,' she said with a touch of regret. 'Is it adventurous?'
'Good gracious!' Mina looked startled. 'I have no idea! One hears stories, of course, but-' Suddenly she giggled. 'I should ask Mrs. Denbigh! She is just the sort of person who would have the courage to do it, if she wished.'
'I daresay,' Grandmama glowered at her. 'But I have often thought that for all that she is a widow and ought to know her place better, Amaryllis Denbigh is no better than she should be! Caroline! Are we going to have tea this afternoon or sit here till dusk chattering dry?'
Caroline reached out and rang the bell.
'Of course we are, Mama. We were merely waiting until ybu joined us.' Over the years she had grown accustomed to calling the woman 'Mama,' although she was in fact Edward's mother.
'Indeed,' Grandmama said skeptically. 'I hope there is some cake. I can't bear all that bread cook sends up. The woman has a mania for bread. They used to know how to make a decent cake when I kept servants. Trained them properly-that's what it all comes down to. Don't let them get away with so much-then you'll get cake when you want it!'
'I do get cake when I want it, Mama!' Caroline's temper was wearing thin. 'And keeping a good staff these days is a lot harder than it used to be. Times change!'
'Not for the better!' Grandmama glared at Charlotte. She refrained from saying anything about respectable women who married into the police, of all things! But only because there was an outsider present, who, please God, knew nothing about it. If she did, next thing it would be all over the neighborhood! And then heaven knew what people would say, let alone what they would think!
'Not for the better,' she said again. 'Women working in offices like clerks when they ought to be in good domestic service. Whoever heard of such a thing? Who looks after their morals, I should like to know? There aren't any butlers in
offices. Not that there are many women, thank heaven! Women's place is in a house-either their own or, if they haven't one, somebody else's!'
Charlotte thought of several answers and held her tongue on all of them. The conversation degenerated into pleasantries about fashion and the weather, with only occasional references to other residents of Rutland Place, and Grandmama's dour comments upon them. They were almost finished when Edward came in, rubbing his hands a little from the cold.
'Why, Charlotte, my dear!' His face lit up with pleasure and surprise. 'I had no idea you were calling or I would have come home sooner.'' She stood up and he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. 'You look extremely well.'
'I am, thank you, Papa.' She stepped back and he noticed Mina for the first time, her pale lace almost blending into the brocade of the sofa and its cushions.
'Mrs. Spencer-Brown, how pleasant to see you.' He bowed. 'Good afternoon, Mr. Ellison,' she answered brightly, her eyes moving from Edward back to Charlotte, interested that he had not been expecting her. 'You seem cold,' she observed. 'Do you care to sit next to the fire?' She moved her skirt to allow him more room on the sofa beside her.
He could not decline without discourtesy, and anyway he considered the spot nearest the fire to be his right. He sat down gingerly.
'Thank you. It does appear that the weather has changed. In fact, I fear it might rain.'
'We can hardly expect better at this time of the year,' Mina replied.
Caroline met Charlotte's eyes over the low table in a glance of helplessness, then reached for the bell to send for a fresh pot of tea for Edward, and some more cakes.
Edward received them with obvious appetite, and they all engaged in only the barest conversation for several minutes.
'Did you find that brooch you lost, my dear?' he said presently, head toward Caroline but his attention still on the cake.
Caroline colored very slightly. 'Not yet, but I daresay it will turn up.'
'Didn't know you'd lost anything!' Grandmama exclaimed. 'You didn't tell me!'
'No reason why I should, Mama,' Caroline replied, avoiding her eyes. 'I'm quite sure if you had found it you would have mentioned it to me without my asking.'
'What was it?' Grandmama was not going to let go so easily.
'How unfortunate!' Mina joined in. 'I hope it was not valuable?'
'I've no doubt it will turn up!' Caroline replied with a note of increasing sharpness in her voice. Charlotte, glancing down, saw her hands twined in the handkerchief again, white where the tightness of the linen bit into her flesh.
