Page 90 of Eleanor’s Earrings

“Briefly.”

“I have difficulty imagining it.”

“I was very responsible.”

Eleanor looked at him.

Nathaniel sighed. “Moderately responsible.”

Daugherty continued. “We got halfway there before one wheel came off.”

Rebecca leaned forward.

Lydia pointed at her. “Do not interrupt the story with repairs.”

“I was going to ask why.”

“Exactly.”

Daugherty explained that he and his brother had failed to replace a linchpin after greasing the axle.

Rebecca closed her eyes.

Nathaniel whispered, “This is painful for her.”

“I can see that.”

“We spent half the night searching for the wheel,” Daugherty said, “and the other half walking home.”

“Did your father punish you?” Samuel Turner asked.

“He made us repair every wagon on the farm for a month.”

Rebecca nodded approvingly. “Good man.”

Mrs. Bell said, “And did you ever reach the dance?”

“No.”

Lydia looked genuinely distressed. “That is the saddest part.”

Daugherty sat down to applause.

Mrs. Turner told a story about meeting her husband at a church picnic after he spilled lemonade down the front of her best dress.

“He blamed the table,” she said.

Her husband protested. “The table moved.”

“It was a table.”

“One leg was shorter.”

“For fifteen years he has maintained the table attacked him.”

Mr. Turner looked around the fire. “None of you saw that table.”

Nathaniel nodded solemnly. “A fair point.”