At the Sign of the Star Read Online Free Page A

been when he ought to have been dining with John Dryden. I knew what my great loss was going to be—my very inheritance. The only thing I didn’t know was how to head into the wind.
    I didn’t say anything to Hester. My tongue felt like a brick in my mouth. I knew there was no use lashing out, no use crying or ranting. What I needed was caution, and a plan.
    â€œCatching herself a husband, I suppose,” Hester said, answering my question.
    I did not speak, but my head felt hot from the fury of my thinking.
    *   *   *
    He did not look at me when he told me. He looked at his pipe, stuffing it and prodding it as he readied himself for a smoke. We sat together in the small parlor, Hester being busy with her duties.
    â€œI have news,” he said.
    â€œGood news, I hope,” I said, to torment him.
    â€œGood news indeed,” he replied, but he knew I would not think so. “I have decided to marry again.”
    â€œFather! My greatest congratulations. I have long awaited such news. Your betrothed must count herself lucky indeed to marry so fine a man.”
    My father looked surprised and much relieved.
    â€œThank you, Margaret,” he said. “I believe she does so. I am to marry Susannah Beckwith at the end of June. The banns will be read next week.”
    â€œSusannah Beckwith?” I repeated. I spoke as though I could not believe my ears. “Have you not heard—but it is not my place—Susannah Beckwith. Oh. I wish you both joy, of course. Susannah Beckwith.”
    He did not ask me what I meant, but I could see by the dismay in his face that he believed me. Why should he not? He had known me long, and knew it was not my custom to pretend what I did not feel. Neither is it my custom, however, to be cheated of what is mine.

THE LADIES’ CALLING
    1
    My father often dined away from home, but from time to time he invited others to dine with him instead. When company came, I used always to eat with Hester in the small parlor, whilst the apprentices and servants ate in the kitchen. But over the past year, my father had asked me more and more often to dine with him, and if I kept silence well through the first course, he sometimes invited me to speak during the second. I loved these occasions, for it is a fine thing to listen to wit and raillery, or even to argument, though keeping silence is not so easy.
    I did not find it easy on the Sunday that Mr. Pennyman and his wife came to dine after church.
    Everything was laid out most elegantly for the Pennymans. Jane had brought two chairs from the parlor, making four altogether. The napkins were of fine linen, the plates of china, and there were forks as well as spoons and knives. There was even one for me. It was a sunny day, and the afternoon light fell soft upon the wooden floorboards, while the kitchen smells floated pleasantly into the room.
    Cook had done her best to keep our tongues entertained with the dinner, for the bill of fare included stewed carp, a boiled pudding, a chine of veal, a calf’s head pie, a roasted chicken, and a salad made with the buds of herbs and violets. The stewed carp was not well seasoned, but the calf’s head pie had a tasty crust, and the chicken was golden and juicy. However, the food could not keep me happy. It was that morning that the banns had been read for the first time, and the Pennymans were full of congratulations for my father, which sounded harsh in my ears.
    My father and I had spoken no more about his wedding. After I planted in his head the idea that there might be scandal to be discovered about Susannah Beckwith, I hoped that he might delay the wedding while he made his investigations. But it is one thing to plant an idea, and another to make it grow. Still, the banns were to be read for two more weeks before the wedding could take place, and anything might happen in that time. I was most hopeful that my father’s intended bride had already been