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Chapter 22
A few weeks passed, and Lucy spent them at home. She and Aunt Joan settled back into their usual routines, with Aunt Joan leaving the house to do charity work or to visit her friends (of whom she had many), while Lucy stayed at home, reading or painting.
Lucy assumed that she would never see Silas again. Perhaps, only in passing, when she went to visit Dinah. She allowed herself to feel relief about the situation. The mourning period for the Sweet family would put Lucy in the clear, with plenty of time for her to fall out of any sort of feelings that she once had for Silas.
She was just putting the finishing touches on her painting of the apples. She was quite pleased with the results and planned to place it in the tiny dining room, where she and Aunt Joan took their meals. It would look cheerful over the red brick fireplace. At the moment, they had a horrible painting that Lucy had done when she was just starting out—a bowl of peaches that looked sad.
Far off, there was a knock on the front door. Her heart rate sped up as her mind came to the conclusion that it must be Dinah, who had promised to call. Perhaps, she had brought Silas, as well. That thought caused Lucy to panic.
She wasn’t prepared for such a visit. Her hair was pulled back in a simple bun, and she was dressed in one of her plainest grey muslins. She smoothed her skirts, pulling off her paint-splattered smock as she walked quickly to open the door. To her surprise, Susan Hamm stood there.
“Lucy!” she greeted. “You haven’t called, so I thought I’d call on you.”
“I—I’m sorry,” Lucy said. “I’ve been finishing a painting. Do come inside. I can fix some tea, if you’d like.”
“Yes, please.” Susan smiled. She was wearing a very fine dress of mauve, which made Lucy feel drab beside her.
“We haven’t a servant,” she explained. It had been several years since they’d had one, in an effort to save money. “You can wait in the parlour, if you’d like, while I go and fetch the tea-things.”
“I can come with you,” Susan offered. “I can help, or just keep you company.”
“Thank you.” Lucy knew that Susan had never boiled herself water for tea before. Her father was a well-to-do London solicitor, who had always been able to keep a housekeeper, a cook, and several housemaids.
They stood awkwardly in the kitchen while the water heated. Lucy made sure to keep up a steady stream of activities, fetching different things and setting them onto the little silver tray that had once been her mother’s.
As soon as the water was boiling, she poured it into the pot, which Susan had filled with tea leaves. They both went to sit in the parlour, Lucy setting the tray down on the coffee table. In silence, they sat across from each other, waiting for the tea to steep.
Susan was looking around the room. Lucy waited patiently, wondering how it must look to her. She and Aunt Joan hadn’t been able to do any updates to it. They just kept it clean.
“It certainly has been a long time since I’ve been in this room,” Susan commented with a smile. “It hasn’t changed at all.”
“No,” Lucy agreed, awkwardly. “We keep it clean and tidy, though there’s not much money for changing things.”
“It’s such a dear, cosy room. I’m glad that it’s the same,” Susan remarked.
It had been a long time since Lucy had had a friend over, and the mere presence of someone new in the home made her feel on edge.
Not to mention, without the jovial and talkative presence of Aunt Joan, Lucy wasn’t sure what to do. So, she poured them both cups of tea.
Susan, herself, seemed uncomfortable. They both sipped their tea in silence.
Lucy wanted to ask Susan what had happened, why she had stopped calling on Lucy. She wondered how to say it without seeming bitter. She sat, staring into the distance while she attempted to work up the nerve.
“Well,” Susan said, suddenly breaking the silence. “Thank you for the tea, but I must be on my way. My mother expects me home soon.”
Lucy smiled, secretly relieved. “Thank you for calling on me,” she said. “I don’t have many visitors.”
Lucy showed Susan to the door. They both said goodbye, without making any plans to do it again soon. When Lucy closed the door after Susan, she let out a deep breath, leaning her forehead against the door.
That was painful! Why did she come? she wondered wretchedly.Why don’t people ever say what they mean?
She walked back up the stairs and gathered the teacups, setting them onto the tray. She took it down into the kitchen, where she began to wash everything. Her mind was full, wondering why Susan had come. Her aunt found her there when she got home.
“Did you have a visitor?” Aunt Joan asked.
“Susan Hamm called.”
“Oh! How lovely!”
