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“I’m going to like you. Now I must get back to the kitchen. I wanted to get a good look at you first, Phillip Baker.” Lizzie looked over at Quinn. “He’ll do just fine, don’t you think?”
“Lizzie, mum’s the word,” Quinn said.
“Yes, yes, quite right.” Lizzie curtsied and then scampered from the room. I wondered if she’d left fairy dust in her wake.
While I ate, Lord Barnes joined his wife on the couch. The little girls approached, shooting shy glances as me.
“Ah yes, come meet our guest,” Lord Barnes said.
Quinn gestured for them to come closer. “This is Delphia, our youngest, and Adelaide, who is seven. Girls, this is Philip Baker, Jo’s friend.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said.
Delphia peered at me. She was an exceptionally pretty child, with large blue eyes and hair the color of dried grass. “Did you come from far away?”
“Yes, New York City.”
“Papa and Mama went there once,” Adelaide said, then flushed, as if embarrassed that she’d spoken. She was also fair of skin but didn’t have the robustness of her sister. A little too thin, and very serious eyes made her seem older than seven. She had the same shade of blue eyes as her sister, but her hair was so blond it was almost white.
“Papa hates it there,” Delphia said. “Too many people.”
“Delphia,” Lord Barnes said, laughing. “When did you hear me say that?”
Delphia shrugged as she turned her gaze toward the cakes. “I don’t know. You say a lot of things. Can I have cake?”
“You two will have a sandwich first and then you may have a cake,” Mrs. Barnes said.
They climbed onto a wide easy chair and sat together. Delphia’s legs were too short to dangle over the seat and stuck out straight in front of her. Adelaide sat with her hands folded on her lap as Mrs. Barnes gave them each a square of sandwich. While they nibbled, they watched me.
“Girls, it’s not polite to stare,” Quinn said.
“Why?” Delphia asked.
“Because it might make a person self-conscious,” Mrs. Barnes said.
“What’s self-commerce?” Delphia asked.
“I’ll explain later,” Adelaide said to her sister. “For now, you should be quiet.”
Delphia’s eyes flashed with annoyance but she kept whatever retort she had to herself.
“How was your trip out here?” Mrs. Barnes asked me. “The train scared me to death the first time I took it from Denver to here. I thought I was going to die by falling off one of those steep tracks.”
“I thought the same.”
We were interrupted by Josephine’s arrival. She rushed in looking flushed and sat in the chair next to me. I caught a whiff of perfume that reminded me of jasmine. It was the smell from her letter to me. I’d been right. “I’m sorry I’m late. I lost myself in a book and didn’t realize the time.”
Delphia, having finished her sandwich, asked for a cake.
“I’m going to give you each one, and then you’ll go off to play and let the adults talk,” Quinn said.
“As long as we get cake, I don’t care,” Delphia said.
“Delphia, please mind your manners,” Quinn said.
“Sorry, Mama.”
The next few minutes we talked further of my trip out here. I mentioned that I’d met Martha Neal.
