TEARS OF THE FOOT GUARDS

SCHERZO - STAVE XLI

S T A V E

XLI

"Obedience," Mrs. Grisham called through the bedroom door, her face incandescent from the candle she held in the tin cake-pan holder. "Obedience." She tapped.

The latch clicked. Obedience behind the crack with eyes heavy. Firelight like dancers on the wall and the room hot with an odour of marigold. A chair at the window through whose panes glimmered the Manhattan night. "Sorry," her tired voice, "I was dozing."

"You've a visitor," Grisham said like a splash of cold water. "And I can see you're not in a state."

"A visitor?" Her eyes cleared.

"A soldier."

"MacEachran?"

"No, I would've told you if it were your husband."

Obedience winced, a vice in her abdomen. "What time is it?"

"Quarter past eleven and Grisham's away. We're alone and here you have callers . . . You need not see him . . . "

"An officer or private man?"

"An officer and by the look of him, somewhat drunk I'd say."

Not Elliot to her relief. "Did he give a name?"

"He did," Grisham said flustered, "but I didn't catch it. What stranger calls at this hour? What business is so pressing it can't wait until morning? This is a proper house."

"I assure you I invited no one. I'm so tired I fell asleep in the chair."

"If you did invite someone, I hope you would inform me."

"I respect this house and would not jeopardize my place in it and especially your good graces."

Elizabeth Grisham shook her head. "I'm not accusing you, my dear. But this city is full of soldiers wandering about the evening brawling, the officers worst of all – how can one feel safe in their very home?"

"I think I might know who it is."

"Shall I send him away?"

"No, I'll see him, but come with me. It will put him off."

Captain Dalrymple commanded the center of the parlour in a snowy watch-coat whose wool was already beading water. "Mrs. MacEachran," he said with a bow.

Obedience abashed. "Captain Dalrymple."

"My apology, ma'am. 'Tis late and you are not prepared for my call."

"Mrs. Grisham, this is Captain Dalrymple who takes music instruction from Mr. Tildon at the same lesson as me. Captain, Mrs. Elias Grisham, the mistress of the house."

"Madame." Dalrymple hazarded another bow, his eyes glassy. "And Mr. Grisham?"

"Away on business and back tomorrow," she replied standing like a sentry.

"I shall not keep you." He reached into his cloak. "I have this book of Italian and –"

"And you were in the neighbourhood," Obedience said.

"No, ma'am. I came out of my way. I found it at a bookseller on Ann Street this evening as he was closing up and when I saw it, I purchased it on your behalf. Captain Coote and I," he motioned toward the front door and the officer in the street, "have been to the lodge and then dined. We're now to the Tables. Tomorrow, I am a week in the lines and will not see you until my lesson with you another week hence. So rather than have you wait, I thought I might chance your inconvenience to deliver it. I believe Mr. Tildon has begun your lessons. Am I still