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Authors: Margaret Miles
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ministrations.
“It’s all right,” came his muffled cry through the linen. “I think it will be best if I walk it away! I’ll return in a while.”
Charlotte and Longfellow settled back as they listened to Benjamin Tucker’s footsteps cross the hall and ascend the stairs.
“It’s not often one has the pleasure of expecting to see his physician expire,” Longfellow commented. But Charlotte only stared at the brightly colored molding along the high ceiling.
In a moment, Tabby wandered back to investigate the cause of the physician’s hasty retreat. The cat’s trainer immediately produced the piece of string, and bent forward as Mrs. Willett asked, “How did you come to choose Dr. Tucker, Richard?”
“Tucker? He recently inoculated the boys attached to a bookshop on King Street. He spends a great deal of time there, as I do when I’m in town. Tucker, too, has a particular interest in scientific theory, and he seemed an honorable Virginia gentleman, if a little down-at-heels. He told me he’d welcome a rest, and gladly quit his rooms in Boston, for a generous fee.”
“I see,” answered Charlotte, wondering all the more.
AT THE END of the day’s final milking, Mrs. Willett left an unusually quiet Will Sloan to finish cleaning up on his own, as she walked from the dairy to the sun-touched side of the farmhouse. Phoebe was away from the closed study window, but Charlotte spoke briefly to Diana, who leaned out of her own room above. Before long, Mrs. Willett turned to walk through the pasture toward the Musketaquid’s marshes, with Orpheus loping happily by her side.
The pink air of the evening was cool; but with a countrywoman’s intuition she knew that when the sun was reborn it would produce an even warmer day, with a southerly wind to force the last reluctant buds. Already, she noticed, the meadow grew thick around frost-thrown stones, which made walking somewhat perilous.
She had to be careful, but Orpheus took no such trouble. Under Charlotte’s admiring eye, the dog bounded from boulder to bog, sniffing and prodding his territory like a proud and wary farmer. It pleased them both to know the long winter was finally over, and summer about to begin. To Charlotte, this meant freedom to walk farther into the countryside, to observe new life, and to cultivate andharvest from her gardens, orchard, and hay fields. To Orpheus, apparently, the season meant frogs, new nests in hedgerows, and suspicious holes in rock walls. Each soul, Charlotte thought again, had its own pursuits, its own happiness, its own way of defining home.
That idea turned her thoughts again to Benjamin Tucker. No one had ever gotten around to asking, at dinner, about Tucker’s family. But perhaps he, too, had suffered sad losses; maybe that was what had driven him to resettle in an unfamiliar place. By his speech and manner, she suspected he’d been brought up in proper, even prosperous, circumstances. Yet his lace cuffs were poorly mended, the ribbons on the garters at his knees did not quite match, and one of his stockings had begun to unravel at the back of his calf. These things could indicate a careless character—or they could as easily show only a need for a good wife … or at least an efficient housekeeper. Or, she thought, one could suppose Dr. Tucker suffered from financial difficulties. Whatever the cause of his untidiness, she was not about to embarrass him by asking, and knew of no one else who might be able to satisfy her curiosity. So she decided she would have to accept the physician for what he was in Bracebridge, no matter what he was, or had been, elsewhere.
Even so, he was a curious soul! For instance, why had he shown such an aversion to Richard’s song? Had love once been a thorn in Dr. Tucker’s side? Was it still? And could that explain his displacement from Williamsburg? There was also his interest in Phoebe Morris, whom he’d treated before. A curious coincidence, surely, to meet her again after
“It’s all right,” came his muffled cry through the linen. “I think it will be best if I walk it away! I’ll return in a while.”
Charlotte and Longfellow settled back as they listened to Benjamin Tucker’s footsteps cross the hall and ascend the stairs.
“It’s not often one has the pleasure of expecting to see his physician expire,” Longfellow commented. But Charlotte only stared at the brightly colored molding along the high ceiling.
In a moment, Tabby wandered back to investigate the cause of the physician’s hasty retreat. The cat’s trainer immediately produced the piece of string, and bent forward as Mrs. Willett asked, “How did you come to choose Dr. Tucker, Richard?”
“Tucker? He recently inoculated the boys attached to a bookshop on King Street. He spends a great deal of time there, as I do when I’m in town. Tucker, too, has a particular interest in scientific theory, and he seemed an honorable Virginia gentleman, if a little down-at-heels. He told me he’d welcome a rest, and gladly quit his rooms in Boston, for a generous fee.”
“I see,” answered Charlotte, wondering all the more.
AT THE END of the day’s final milking, Mrs. Willett left an unusually quiet Will Sloan to finish cleaning up on his own, as she walked from the dairy to the sun-touched side of the farmhouse. Phoebe was away from the closed study window, but Charlotte spoke briefly to Diana, who leaned out of her own room above. Before long, Mrs. Willett turned to walk through the pasture toward the Musketaquid’s marshes, with Orpheus loping happily by her side.
The pink air of the evening was cool; but with a countrywoman’s intuition she knew that when the sun was reborn it would produce an even warmer day, with a southerly wind to force the last reluctant buds. Already, she noticed, the meadow grew thick around frost-thrown stones, which made walking somewhat perilous.
She had to be careful, but Orpheus took no such trouble. Under Charlotte’s admiring eye, the dog bounded from boulder to bog, sniffing and prodding his territory like a proud and wary farmer. It pleased them both to know the long winter was finally over, and summer about to begin. To Charlotte, this meant freedom to walk farther into the countryside, to observe new life, and to cultivate andharvest from her gardens, orchard, and hay fields. To Orpheus, apparently, the season meant frogs, new nests in hedgerows, and suspicious holes in rock walls. Each soul, Charlotte thought again, had its own pursuits, its own happiness, its own way of defining home.
That idea turned her thoughts again to Benjamin Tucker. No one had ever gotten around to asking, at dinner, about Tucker’s family. But perhaps he, too, had suffered sad losses; maybe that was what had driven him to resettle in an unfamiliar place. By his speech and manner, she suspected he’d been brought up in proper, even prosperous, circumstances. Yet his lace cuffs were poorly mended, the ribbons on the garters at his knees did not quite match, and one of his stockings had begun to unravel at the back of his calf. These things could indicate a careless character—or they could as easily show only a need for a good wife … or at least an efficient housekeeper. Or, she thought, one could suppose Dr. Tucker suffered from financial difficulties. Whatever the cause of his untidiness, she was not about to embarrass him by asking, and knew of no one else who might be able to satisfy her curiosity. So she decided she would have to accept the physician for what he was in Bracebridge, no matter what he was, or had been, elsewhere.
Even so, he was a curious soul! For instance, why had he shown such an aversion to Richard’s song? Had love once been a thorn in Dr. Tucker’s side? Was it still? And could that explain his displacement from Williamsburg? There was also his interest in Phoebe Morris, whom he’d treated before. A curious coincidence, surely, to meet her again after
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