Part 9 (1/2)

”It's quite all right,” he said, though she noted he did make a quick examination of his coat.

”She's very beautiful,” Mr. Garritt said, petting the cat while Ivy held her. ”What is her name?”

Mr. Rafferdy looked at him. ”And how do you know it's a her?”

”Tortoisesh.e.l.l cats are always hers,” the young man said with a laugh. ”Didn't you know that, Rafferdy?”

”We never had cats at my father's house,” Mr. Rafferdy said, though the words sounded wistful rather than scornful. He hesitated, then scratched Miss Mew behind the ears. ”Where did you come by her?”

”Mrs. Murch brought her into the house,” Ivy said. ”She was the only tortoisesh.e.l.l in the litter, and so the only lady cat. I've always found it interesting that a certain trait-the color of the fur, in this instance-can be determined by whether a cat is male or female. I keep meaning to perform some research to see if there are any other traits similarly linked.”

At this Mr. Rafferdy gave her a curious look, and Mrs. Lockwell leaped from her chair. ”You must forgive her, Mr. Rafferdy. Mr. Lockwell is a man of science, and I fear he filled my daughter's head, when she was younger, with some peculiar notions.”

”There is no need to apologize, madam, it's fascinating,” Mr. Rafferdy said, at which Mr. Garritt gave him a startled look. ”And is Mr. Lockwell about today?”

Mrs. Lockwell sank back into her chair, raising a hand to her throat.

”I'm afraid my father is indisposed,” Ivy said. ”Please accept his regrets for not being able to come down to meet you.”

”Of course,” Mr. Rafferdy said, and the matter was dropped.

After that the visitors begged their leave, for the day was nearly done, and the Miss Lockwells bid the young men and their cousin farewell, asking them to return again whenever they liked; and if the invitation was more warmly extended to the former than the latter, no one made notice of it. Mr. Garritt shook each of their hands, and Mr. Rafferdy followed suit.

”It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Lockwell, Miss Lily,” Mr. Rafferdy said to each of them. ”And you as well, Miss Rose.”

”It feels like you've been holding lightning,” Rose said as Mr. Rafferdy took her hand in his.

It was clear he did not know what to make of her words-none of them did, as sometimes was the case with Rose-so instead he smiled and nodded. Then the three visitors were down the stairs, and the front door opened and shut, leaving the women to themselves in a parlor that suddenly felt large and empty and dim.

It was Mrs. Lockwell who found her voice first. ”Did you see how well they presented themselves and how terribly handsome they were?” she said, as if the rest of them had not been in the parlor for the last several hours. ”Who would have thought our own Mr. Wyble would have acquaintances of such quality!”

”It is no mystery to me that he sought them out,” Ivy said. ”Our cousin has ever been drawn to those whom he perceives to be superior. But that they should find a reason to reciprocate his interest I find to be something of a mystery.”

”It is no mystery at all!” Mrs. Lockwell said. ”That they can derive much from Mr. Wyble's companions.h.i.+p I doubt, as do you. But he had only to mention that he had three cousins, all exceedingly beautiful, and all of an age to consider marriage, and their interest in his friends.h.i.+p was a.s.sured. For neither of them yet wears a ring on his finger.”

”Do you think they will call on us again, Mother?” Lily said. She was flitting about the parlor. ”I thought Mr. Garritt was unbearably handsome. Do you not think he made for a perfect Antelidon? He understood-really understood-what the role meant.”

”Yes, he was excellent,” Mrs. Lockwell agreed. ”It would be impossible for a young man to present himself better. Though I thought Mr. Rafferdy did very well at his part too.”

”On the contrary, he could hardly keep himself from laughing during the most serious pa.s.sages,” Ivy said. ”Though I thought he was very indulgent of all of us.”

”Oh, yes!” Mrs. Lockwell exclaimed. ”Exceedingly indulgent!”

”Well, Ivy can have Mr. Rafferdy, then,” Lily said, ”and I shall take Mr. Garritt. He has the soul of a poet.”

”And likely the pocketbook of one as well,” Ivy said.

Mrs. Lockwell gave her a shocked look. ”Whatever do you mean?”

At several times during the visit, Ivy had come close enough to Mr. Garritt to notice that, while his clothes were impeccably kept and suited his figure very well, they were neither so new nor so fas.h.i.+onable as Mr. Rafferdy's attire. Also, each time Lily had asked a question about what exclusive parties or lavish affairs the two had attended, Mr. Garritt always referred the inquiries to Mr. Rafferdy. Ivy could only presume it was because he had few experiences of his own to relate.

As for Mr. Rafferdy, while he had appeared to genuinely enjoy himself during the course of the visit, it could only be due to the novelty of the situation, being so far from what he was used to. Nor could he be expected to find continued pleasure in the simple entertainments offered in the houses of the gentry.

Ivy related these observations with great care and delicacy to her mother and sister, not wis.h.i.+ng to upset their sensibilities. Still, the reaction she encountered was one of astonishment.

”What are you implying, Ivy?” Mrs. Lockwell said, quite agitated. ”Are you trying to tell me that you think these two were not as fine a pair of gentlemen as any young woman could hope to encounter in this city? For if you are, I will not hear of it!”

”Nor will I!” cried Lily.

Ivy took in a breath to steady herself. ”I am only saying that it would be prudent not to base too many hopes and expectations on a single meeting. Especially because I think it clear that, while both Mr. Rafferdy and Mr. Garritt are gentlemen of quality and worth, they do not both possess each characteristic in the same proportions. That is to say, I think it very clear that the one is far too rich to marry any of us, and the other far too poor. Besides,” Ivy went on more lightly now, ”there were only two of them, which meant there was not one for our dear Rose.”

Rose smiled and took Ivy's hand. ”But I don't mind, Ivy. I'll come live with you and Mr. Rafferdy.”

”There!” Mrs. Lockwell said. ”As always, it is Rose who sees the simplest truths. In no way could she ever want for anything if her sisters were well situated. I should never worry about Rose if you and Lily were married.”

A chill came over Ivy. But it was only the coming of night that caused her to s.h.i.+ver; the short day was all but spent outside, and she moved to light a few candles. All the while Lily continued to speak in an animated manner, though one would think from her talk that there had been only one man, by the name of Garritt, in the parlor that day. Mrs. Lockwell was hardly less enthusiastic, and even Rose could be heard laughing and clapping her hands.

Ivy smiled at their lively conversation, but her smile kept wavering, just like the candles she lit. Did she, too, feel some unseen movement of cold air that stole past shut windows and closed doors? As she set a candle on the secretary, she noticed several new receipts and demands her mother had stashed in a teacup. Ivy took them out, and a sigh escaped her. ”Perhaps we should just let Mr. Wyble take this house and be done with it.”

It was only after a moment that Ivy realized the room had gone quiet. She turned to see her sisters and mother staring at her.

”What are you talking about, Ivy?” Lily said with a frown. ”Are you mad? Why in the world would we give our house to Mr. Wyble?”

Ivy smoothed the papers in her hand. ”I did not say we should give this house to him. Rather, we might...that is, Mother might sell her interest in it to him. I know he has a rather large sum saved away, and I have no doubt he would be willing to part with a good deal of it to win the right of dwelling in this house early. And with the proceeds, we would have income enough to live very well for years to come.”

Rose's expression was suddenly worried; she sat on the sofa and petted Miss Mew.

”But where should we live?” Lily said. ”You don't expect us to move to Lowpark, do you? Mr. Garritt would never come visit us there.”

Ivy started to reply, but Mrs. Lockwell was quicker. Her usually cheerful face became hard, as it had that night when the two men in dark capes came to the door. ”I know what Ivy is thinking. She is seeking ways to economize. But our need is not that great. And even if it were, I would not hear of what I know she is proposing. When we left that house, I told Mr. Lockwell that I would never return there, and I will keep my word.”

Ivy knew it was not prudent, but the topic had been broached, and she might never have another chance to speak of it. ”I am only saying that the house on Durrow Street is not entailed to anybody. It is Father's outright.”

”Durrow Street?” Lily said, and it was clear she suddenly did not know what to think, and so she said again, ”Durrow Street!” And she sat down on the sofa next to Rose.

Before her mother could interject, Ivy finished her thoughts. ”The house on Durrow Street is Father's, and when...and in any event it will always be in our family. With the income earned from granting this house to our cousin, we could, if we lived modestly, dwell there as long as we wished and never have any fear of real want or need.”

Lily was still visibly struggling with this idea. No doubt the notion of giving anything to Mr. Wyble was unthinkable for her, yet the name Durrow Street held particular enchantment, for it was on Durrow Street that the city's theaters were to be found. At last she said, ”If we need income, why do we not sell Father's house?” Money, it had evidently been decided, was more likely than proximity to grant access to wonders such as theaters. ”We could sell the house on Durrow Street and live very well here, I am sure.”

And where should they live when they were spinsters and this house belonged to Mr. Wyble? However, Ivy did not voice this thought, and there were other constraints on that course of action. ”The house on Durrow Street is Father's alone,” she said. ”Only he could make a decision to sell it.”

They all knew such a decision was beyond his ability.

Before Ivy could press her argument, Mrs. Lockwell stood. Her cheeks had a high color to them. ”I will endure no more speech on this subject, Ivoleyn! Durrow Street is not a place where respectable families dwell. There is nothing for us in that old house. It is a horrid place, fit only for the likes of them.” She waved a hand at the darkened windows. ”And they should go there, rather than show up on our doorstep, when they come for-”

The color drained from Mrs. Lockwell's face, and she sank down into the chair.