said.
“We meet at midnight underneath the old elm,” Theresa said, nodding toward the tree under which Helen was now placing the tray. “Agreed?”
“Agreed,” Eliza said, placing her hand in the center of their circle. Catherine immediately clasped it, and Theresa did the same.
Reluctantly, Alice reached up from her seated position and placed her hand atop the others. “Agreed,” she repeated.
Late
That night Eliza and Catherine were silent as they dressed for the treasure hunt. Eliza donned her drabbest dress—a black, shapeless, long-sleeved frock her mother had bought her for her elderly neighbor’s funeral—and her fingers quaked as she fastened the buttons. Somehow she managed to clasp the gold locket around her neck, but not before dropping it four times.
Get a hold of yourself, Eliza. This is exactly the type of adventure you crave,
she told herself.
A sudden rap on the door startled her out of her wits, and Catherine actually yelped. They looked at each other and then laughed.
“I suppose I’m a bit on edge,” Catherine said, blushing.
“As am I,” Eliza admitted. “Come in!”
Helen opened the door, holding a package wrapped in plain brown paper. “This came for you, Miss Williams,” she said.
“For me?” Eliza asked with surprise as she accepted the package. She could tell by its weight that it was a book.
“Who’s it from?” Catherine asked, tilting her head to see the package.
“It doesn’t say,” Eliza replied. “But if it’s a book, it’s probably from my father.”
Helen hovered in the door, eyeing Eliza’s and Catherine’s dark dresses with suspicion. Eliza’s heart gave an extra thump. “Thank you, Helen,” she said firmly.
Helen flinched, then quickly curtsied. “You’re welcome, miss.” Then she was gone.
“You don’t think she’ll tell Miss Almay we were dressed this way at this hour, do you?” Catherine asked.
“Your friend Theresa seems to trust her,” Eliza said as she sat on her bed. “Isn’t that enough?”
“You don’t like Theresa much, do you?” Catherine asked. There was no trace of an accusation in her tone. She simply sounded curious. “Not that I’m surprised, considering.”
“Considering what?” Eliza asked, tearing the brown paper from the book.
Catherine hesitated. “Nothing. Just . . . nothing.”
“Oh my goodness!” Eliza exclaimed. All thoughts of Theresa Billings vanished from her mind the second her eyes landed on the book’s title. “
A Tale of Two Cities
! I took this book out of the library last year, but my mother found it and made me return it. She said the contents were far too scandalous for a young girl.”
“Oh, it’s an incredible story,” Catherine said, “I like your father already.”
Then Eliza noticed something odd. The book, it appeared, was used. The corners were frayed, and one of the pages near the front had been bent down. It looked as if it had been read several times over. But it was not at all like her father to buy her a used book. She opened the cover to see if he had enclosed a note, and her heart stopped, for the bookplate secured inside the cover read PROPERTY OF HARRISON B. KNOX.
Instantly, Eliza tilted the book so that Catherine would be able to see only the cover. She turned the page and once again, her heart caught. Harrison had written her a message near the top left corner of the cover page.
For my favorite tragedy lover. There will be something to interest you on every page. Enjoy it. Harrison Knox.
My favorite tragedy lover,
thought Eliza.
He used the word
my.
He implied that I am his! Harrison touched this book. He read these very pages.
Eliza was nearly breathless with bliss. She could think of no gesture more romantic. Then, suddenly, she felt foolish. Harrison was in love with Theresa; they were engaged to be married. He couldn’t have realized what this book would mean to Eliza. He was probably just passing along a favorite story to another book
“We meet at midnight underneath the old elm,” Theresa said, nodding toward the tree under which Helen was now placing the tray. “Agreed?”
“Agreed,” Eliza said, placing her hand in the center of their circle. Catherine immediately clasped it, and Theresa did the same.
Reluctantly, Alice reached up from her seated position and placed her hand atop the others. “Agreed,” she repeated.
Late
That night Eliza and Catherine were silent as they dressed for the treasure hunt. Eliza donned her drabbest dress—a black, shapeless, long-sleeved frock her mother had bought her for her elderly neighbor’s funeral—and her fingers quaked as she fastened the buttons. Somehow she managed to clasp the gold locket around her neck, but not before dropping it four times.
Get a hold of yourself, Eliza. This is exactly the type of adventure you crave,
she told herself.
A sudden rap on the door startled her out of her wits, and Catherine actually yelped. They looked at each other and then laughed.
“I suppose I’m a bit on edge,” Catherine said, blushing.
“As am I,” Eliza admitted. “Come in!”
Helen opened the door, holding a package wrapped in plain brown paper. “This came for you, Miss Williams,” she said.
“For me?” Eliza asked with surprise as she accepted the package. She could tell by its weight that it was a book.
“Who’s it from?” Catherine asked, tilting her head to see the package.
“It doesn’t say,” Eliza replied. “But if it’s a book, it’s probably from my father.”
Helen hovered in the door, eyeing Eliza’s and Catherine’s dark dresses with suspicion. Eliza’s heart gave an extra thump. “Thank you, Helen,” she said firmly.
Helen flinched, then quickly curtsied. “You’re welcome, miss.” Then she was gone.
“You don’t think she’ll tell Miss Almay we were dressed this way at this hour, do you?” Catherine asked.
“Your friend Theresa seems to trust her,” Eliza said as she sat on her bed. “Isn’t that enough?”
“You don’t like Theresa much, do you?” Catherine asked. There was no trace of an accusation in her tone. She simply sounded curious. “Not that I’m surprised, considering.”
“Considering what?” Eliza asked, tearing the brown paper from the book.
Catherine hesitated. “Nothing. Just . . . nothing.”
“Oh my goodness!” Eliza exclaimed. All thoughts of Theresa Billings vanished from her mind the second her eyes landed on the book’s title. “
A Tale of Two Cities
! I took this book out of the library last year, but my mother found it and made me return it. She said the contents were far too scandalous for a young girl.”
“Oh, it’s an incredible story,” Catherine said, “I like your father already.”
Then Eliza noticed something odd. The book, it appeared, was used. The corners were frayed, and one of the pages near the front had been bent down. It looked as if it had been read several times over. But it was not at all like her father to buy her a used book. She opened the cover to see if he had enclosed a note, and her heart stopped, for the bookplate secured inside the cover read PROPERTY OF HARRISON B. KNOX.
Instantly, Eliza tilted the book so that Catherine would be able to see only the cover. She turned the page and once again, her heart caught. Harrison had written her a message near the top left corner of the cover page.
For my favorite tragedy lover. There will be something to interest you on every page. Enjoy it. Harrison Knox.
My favorite tragedy lover,
thought Eliza.
He used the word
my.
He implied that I am his! Harrison touched this book. He read these very pages.
Eliza was nearly breathless with bliss. She could think of no gesture more romantic. Then, suddenly, she felt foolish. Harrison was in love with Theresa; they were engaged to be married. He couldn’t have realized what this book would mean to Eliza. He was probably just passing along a favorite story to another book
Similar Books
