Salvation of Ignorance

Chapter 5: Let This Deter You

"Am I right in my attentions to such a subject?"

"Well...it certainly is a questionable subject."

Phoebe frowned as Elinor delighted herself with a sip of tea.

Two lots of distance were conquered on her attempt home before she felt inclined to enact upon her friend's services. While Rastco guarded the garden in slumber, the two ladies took beverage in the Wade household's parlor.

"It is uncharacteristic of me to pay particular attention to such matters," Phoebe provided logic for Elinor to see merit in Phoebe's concerns.

Elinor swallowed and cupped the cup in her hands. "It appears he wore the tailcoat within consecutive days. Not entirely odd within a two day time span."

"But as an associate of Mr. Talwin, it seems he would possess sufficient income to stock his wardrobe to prevent need for reuse, right?"

Elinor slid her thumb across the rim of the cup. "I suppose he may not be as fortunate in circumstance as Mr. Talwin."

Phoebe folded her hands in her lap and brought her shoulders to her ears. If such was the case, then Mr. Talwin was truly not a man to be forsaken. To be empathetic to the less fortunate, he was precisely the man to run the Barrettmore plantation. To husband.

"Was this all you called upon me for?"

Her hands held no match to Elinor's statement, but uneasy about facing the judgment in the jade eyes, Phoebe chose to rebelliously lean into her cup, which had been left untouched, and checked to see how the chips of chocolate fared the warm liquid. A murky success greeted her.

"May I not call upon you with inessentials?" Phoebe quipped before placing her tea spoon in her mouth for a sample of her success.

"You may, but it would be uncharacteristic."

The spoon was lowered, but the ridge it formed between Phoebe's lips remained. "Is it?"

Elinor placed the tea upon its saucer. "Not that it's a required trait."

"I could visit more often, if—."

"Please do not. My mother always frets when you do."

"Your mother knows?" Into the sea, Spartans should cast her.

"I've told her nothing of your concerns. She merely thinks you walk too much. And read too much. And stumble over your words too much."

"And visit too much."

Elinor smiled. "No, never enough."

Phoebe enjoyed a sip of the tea-flavored, chocolate beverage.

"What if I were to visit less frequently?" Phoebe confided. Elinor's silence persuaded Phoebe to continue, which she could not unless she glanced at the scenery through the adjacent bay window, "I have a grandmother."

"Really?"

Phoebe exhaled a laugh, and now had enough courage to bring her attention to the needle-work of the cloth protecting the table separating the two friends. "She wishes to see me...from—for me to go to London."

"London, England?"

"Do we have a London?" Phoebe was genuinely curious.

"I hope so."

"I'm not certain if I want—No, I would love to meet her, but I'm uncertain as to whether I will. As to whether...I should."

Elinor joined Phoebe in examining the table cloth, but was left unsatisfied until she peered through the window. Her head tossed left and right, and her body leaned forward, intent upon securing an object for review.