She happily agreed and could hardly sit still as I explained a few of the basics about cutthroat negotiations.
After another half-hour, she said she had to go.
I asked, “Have you any more treasures?”
“There are quite a few paintings my mother thinks should be valuable, and a few other things. I will try to sell them next year.”
I had no idea why I said the next and would revisit it from time to time while smacking my head, but I said it anyway, and was thus obligated.
“I will await you in this room one year from today, with a man I know who is in that business. He will give you an honest appraisal of what you have, and perhaps even purchase some of them. Make a rough sketch of each and write down the painter, year, and a description.”
She clapped her hands together and gave a huge smile that made her look more like twelve than fifteen, then jumped up, grabbed her companion, and headed out the door practically at a run, yelling over her shoulder as she left.
“I will see you in one year, Mr Jones.”
15th July 1807 11 o’clock
“Miss Smith.”
“Mr Jones.”
That was how our second annual encounter began.
The young lady, who I vaguely remembered must be nearly sixteen, had grown into herself enough that theladypart of the appellation was slightly stronger thanyoung. She was no longer a child, but certainly not a woman. She was still in between, but she looked back at me intently and without fear.
“Has your year been satisfactory, Mr Jones?” she asked politely.
I sighed in resignation at the news I had to convey.
“I fear not, Miss Smith. My father died after an illness of several months. I have been coming to terms with my inheritance from dawn to dusk every day for months.”
“I am sorry for your loss, sir, and apologise for dragging you hence. You must have more important things to do, but I presume you feel a need to honour your commitment, and I respect you for that. Such reliability is not universal.”
I kind of missed the little hellcat of the previous year, but the evening was young, and I had plenty of time to get her ire up yet.
“Think nothing of it. I appreciate the break. What does the proverb say, ‘All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.’”
“I suppose I know more about you now. Your name is an alliteration, and I feel proud to know you, Mr Jack Jones.”
We laughed together, and it was not terrible. She was an engaging young lady when she wanted to be.
“Have you brought what we discussed?”
“I did. My sister is learning to draw. She was terrible at the start, but we found a book on drawing in my father’s library, and we spent the last year making sketches together. They are still not great, but probably good enough.”
I glanced at a few of the drawings, along with the names, dates, and descriptions in another list she made in a neat hand. The descriptions were well done, and trustworthy looking. They included notes of any damage to frames or painting, and each note was marked on the sketch with a number.
“This is a clever system and well done, Miss Smith,” I said honestly.
“I thank you, sir,” she said, though without the blush most other ladies I knew would give at a compliment from me. She treated me as if I had just stated a fact that was obvious to anyone, rather than a compliment.
Her manner made me wonder if she was accustomed to praise. She had said her elder sister was—what was the term?— five times prettier than anyone, or something like that. I wondered if she was giving her own assessment or parroting others.
“Was this the sister who is eighteen or the one who would be eleven,” I asked curiously. I was enjoying the exchange, and almost anything beat brooding and cursing more about my former childhood companion, who was vexing me over his inheritance.
“No.My elder sister is worse than terrible, and my mother would never let her out of her sight long enough to do this amount of work anyway. The eleven-year-old would not work a tenth that hard. This one is twelve.”
I nearly gasped and barely kept my countenance neutral. Good lord, there werefoursisters, with no brothers. I could not say what the odds of such a thing were, but they seemed exceptionally long.
