“Then,” Jameson paused a moment, as if he might have left his courage in the little box. “I am horrified! I am appalled! He is master of an estate. Hechoseto have daughters. He does not have to work for his bread, beyond making certain his tenants are productive. I have learnt the outlines of his perfidy from Jane, and I say I cannot respect a man like that.”
“There now! That was not so hard, was it?” Elizabeth smiled.
He chuckled. “To tell the truth, it was liberating.”
Elizabeth noticed they were out of sight of just about everybody, though they remained in public view, so she had no concerns for her reputation. She dragged him to a stop and faced him.
“Now we come to my first crucial point about boxes. You will assure me, right here and now, that youare notlike that. Jane has endured enough indolent men for one lifetime.”
Angered, he practically shouted, “What do you take me for? I will not stand for—”
She boldly grabbed his arm and shushed him. “Very well. That is the exact response I need. Thank you for rememberingnotto moderate it.”
“I feel like a violin. You play very well.”
Elizabeth coloured. “A drum is a better analogy. I know you think of that as a compliment, but it is not; it is the truth, so I cannot complain unless I want to return to the shrub and open the box to get some pride back.”
They relaxed; she faced forward, took his arm, and started walking again. “Now, let us talk about the little box you and Jane are in.”
He nodded nervously.
“You have both been hurt and betrayed. You were betrayed in a much worse manner than Jane was in the recent past; her betrayal by her family was of lowermagnitude, but of much longerduration. I also assume there may have beenotherbetrayals in the past. Betrayal has a cumulative effect, so you are both damaged by it to a greater or lesser extent. Would you agree?”
“Yes.”
“Both of you were raised to be private people. Jane was the beauty of the family who was supposed to save us all. Our mother pounded the need for her to save the family into her head relentlessly for a decade. You were raised as a man and probably taught to be private because that is the normal course for your sex. Am I correct?”
“You have it just right.”
“So, both of you have put yourselves in your own little boxes, full of hurt, betrayal, expectations, and privacy. You met, and each foundsomethingin the other box. However, neither of you knows whether you see someone you might love, or just another person carrying similar injuries—you worry that two wrongs do not make a right. Is that a fair assessment?”
He was silent for at least a dozen yards, but finally said, “That is the conundrum. Are we drawn to each other becauseof some innate quality we both admire, or because misery loves company? I do not believe the latter is the case, but cannot discount the possibility.”
“My thought exactly. I said the same thing to Jane yesterday. That you ask the question is significant, I think. Few things are all good or all bad. Your willingness to admit the possibility shows a capacity for self-reflection that will serve you well if you ever work out the answer. Even so, your inability to get past it is not auspicious. You should not need my help.”
He thought a moment. “It is as if we both built a box around ourselves with a maze inside. We both know the other is there somewhere, and we both believe the maze must have a solution, but we keep stumbling around, knowing someone else is in the maze only because we hear them through the walls, and neither of us has enough sense to stop and let the other find us.”
Elizabeth laughed gaily. “You really take to this analogy business with gusto. Are you this competitive in everything?”
“Apparentlyalmosteverything.”
“Now we are in my area of expertise. Did Jane tell you I used mathematics to engineer the marriage between my sister and brother?”
“She gave me the broad outlines, but she was too embarrassed to tell the details.”
“Let me tell you the whole story.”
She did so, and when she finished, he laughed. “Who would have thought that compound interest was the key to domestic felicity?”
Elizabeth laughed along with him. “Do not forget the supreme value of multiplication and addition—which brings me to the simplest of all mathematical concepts.”
“Which is?”
“Comparisons, thresholds, and proportional scaling. Wait here.”
During the story of Mary’s odd courtship, Elizabeth had worked them back to the duck pond; she ran around the corner and returned a moment later, dragging Jane.
Mr Jameson stood near another shrub, looking pensive, so Elizabeth dragged Jane to it and pointed. “There is the box, Jane.”
