February 12th, 1888 — Someone's Tea Room

Although Ophelia was not technically the hostess for the event this afternoon, she still felt responsible in the main for how splendidly it was going. She had, after all, been the one to contact Mr. Honeyduke about providing the instruction for the truffle-making workshop, and had given the actual hostess a gentle nudge in the right direction on several key points. The only reason she wasn't hosting it herself was that she felt it best to reserve all of her energies with Armando for her coming nuptials, which he had (so far) been relatively cooperative about. Probably because he knew it would be the end of his having to pay for her lifestyle, and was therefore willing to invest a good deal of capital into ensuring that it went off without a hitch.

At any rate, the party was coming along very nicely, and there were several neat rows of magically crafted truffles lined up on wax paper already, waiting for their finishing coats to dry so that they could be taken home (or, in the case of some of the pudgier guests, eaten on the spot, she suspected). She herself had already finished three, which was far more than enough for any lady trying to maintain her figure, though she might make a few more as presents for the maids, perhaps. At the moment, however, all of the supplies seemed to be occupied by other women, and she was at leisure to survey how things were progressing from a more social standpoint.

She had rather purposefully invited Miss Swift to this event — not, of course, because Miss Swift needed chocolates (no women who was unmarried needed chocolates), but rather because she had already been working as steadily as she knew how to throw Mr. Honeyduke and Miss Swift into each other's way, with rather limited success. She had thought putting them side by side at a dinner party would be enough to see them at least very amicably interested in one another, but had not heard so much as a whisper on the subject from any of her contacts (and she tended to have a good deal of rumor-spreading contacts in this department). Today did not seem to be faring much better; Miss Swift was engaged in conversation with another young lady and Mr. Honeyduke was off by himself, surveying how the truffle production was coming along. Didn't either of them understand that they had not really been invited to make truffles, no matter what the invitations might have said?

Well, a little helpful intervention wouldn't go amiss. Approaching Mr. Honeyduke with a smile, Ophelia exchanged some pleasantries about how well the event seemed to be going, thanked him for his time (although he had been paid for both it and the materials involved), and then delved right in to business. "Are you planning on sending out any special chocolates on St. Valentine's Day?"

  

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Quincey was by no means a teacher. Today however, with many thanks to Miss Dippet, seemed to be going better than expected. Honestly when he'd bee approached about a little workshop of sorts, he'd almost said no. He was not a neat chef, nor did he have an exact process per ce, but when it came to making truffles, he could at least streamline it enough to show other people. It wasn't always pretty and that was probably more his fault than his pupils today, but it was better than expected.

He complimented one lady's truffles before Miss Dippet caught his attention. "Not that I'm aware of." Quin answered before the thought about her question. He supposed he should be, and would likely send some to Percy's sisters and his mother, but it was highly unlikely that even his mate's sisters would take it like that. "Oh of course, my sweet mum." Quin added with a quick smirk and a chuckle. He always sent her flowers or perfectly muggle sweets on holidays, especially when he couldn't visit.

Though Miss Dippet seemed to have made a pet project out of him (because he could use all of the help he could get), he seemed to have made little progress, which was very much his own fault an no one else's.

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Apparently, her subtle hint had been a bit too subtle for Mr. Honeyduke. He had warned her that he was rather hopeless at this, and it was clear now why he'd needed her help in the first place! Still, Ophelia could not believe that her earlier efforts to throw Mr. Honeyduke and Miss Swift together had gone entirely unnoticed by both parties. Perhaps if she just nudged him in the right direction, he'd be able to put the pieces together and act on them appropriately.

"Oh, such a pity!" she gushed, glancing down at her glass of champagne and twirling it lightly between her fingers. "I know at least one young lady who will be monstrously disappointed to hear as much."

Monstrously disappointed, of course, was rather hyperbolic given that she had yet to gauge Miss Swift's feelings on the matter in even a casual way, but a little exaggeration had never hurt her social chances (in fact, she thought it tended to help matters greatly to portray them about seven times larger than life).

  

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Though Quin was not the neatest of cooks, he realized he was not in his own kitchen and so proceeded to start tidying up as he moved, keeping Miss Dippet within earshot as he collected utensils and bowls from the ladies that were finished. They weren't his dishes, though some of the utensils were his and necessary for the process... was he supposed to clean them or would the house staff? That was a hostess question, though he couldn't immediately see her either.

He piled and listened, though paused do cast a curious eyebrow at Miss Dippet when she said something about a particular young lady being disappointed by a lack of Valentine's sweets. Puzzled, Quin wasn't even sure as to whom she would even be referring. Was he really that oblivious. "I'm sorry?" Perhaps he hadn't heard her right. Maybe she was just teasing him about lack of prospects, which he could certainly understand.

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So Mr. Honeyduke really was oblivious to her efforts — or if he wasn't, he was doing a bang up job of pretending he was. How utterly disappointing! Surely not all men could be this clueless when it came to matters of the heart? Then again, she supposed that he had warned her, back when they had danced together on Halloween. He had described himself as a challenge, and she had claimed she could rise to the challenge. She still felt that she could, but really — if he was to gather nothing from being purposefully sat next to a single lady for an entire dinner party, how much more transparent could she really be about this whole thing?

"Oh, Mr. Honeyduke," she chided lightly, hovering nearby him as he collected bowls and things but of course not deigning to do anything resembling housework herself. "I can't possibly believe that you haven't noticed!"

  

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Quin paused his cleaning to look at Miss Dippet with a confused raise of his eyebrows. Was he really that unfocused on such things? How could he miss something like that? Honestly he hadn't even thought about courting or anything of the like since Miss Teague and even then the possibility hadn't crossed his mind until she'd faded from view. He really needed to learn to pay better attention.

"Have I neglected to follow up on something?" Quin knew Miss Dippet was helping him out in this respect, helping him to meet eligible young ladies, but perhaps he needed real coaching on the matter. Quin was capable of conversing with just about anyone, but he realized that was mostly superficially. He would think that he would need to hold conversations of actual substance other than sweets and how people were doing that day.

Really he needed some direct advice otherwise he was  going to be a dolt about it.

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"I'm sure it's not too late," Ophelia said in a tone that, although it retained the veneer of chastisement, was almost something of a sing-song. Perhaps by dancing around the issue enough, she could lead him to the correct solution? It would hardly count for anything if she just had to tell him who he ought to be flirting with! That wouldn't seem organic at all, and was bound not to last.

"Young women can hold on to hope for quite some time," she remarked, as though she were a third party in her observations on 'young women' and had never been a part of that very same group. "I imagine today might be an excellent day to follow up on the acquaintance," she suggested, with a significant eyebrow raise and a quick glance at the nearest crowd of young women — which happened, of course, to contain Miss Swift as one of its members.

  

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Certainly he wasn't that oblivious? Though if Quin were being honest with himself, he supposed that, yes, he could be. Damn. He was learning quite a bit about this whole thing thanks to Miss Dippet, but apparently his people skills only extended so far.

He nodded along, and followed her gaze to a gaggle of young ladies of which he only recognized one, but that still didn't mean he knew who she meant. Just what was he supposed to do, saunter over there and interrupt their discussion? "And now what should I do?" Quin was the kind of guy who needed specific directions, otherwise he would surely flounder in trying to figure it out for himself.

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Ophelia let out a slight huff, as if to say and do you expect me to do everything? Pretended exasperation aside, however, she was rather glad that he seemed to have finally caught on to which woman she was referring to, at least; she would have to take that as a sign of progress, however mild.

"You could always start by talking to her," she suggested, her tone lightly teasing. "And a compliment or two never goes amiss."

At that particular moment the group nearest them dispersed, two towards the truffle-making table and the third — Miss Swift, as fortune would have it — apparently headed in the direction of the water pitcher and punch bowl that had been set out on a side table. This path put her on a course to intercept the two of them, and though Ophelia might have wished for another moment to more thoroughly prepare Mr. Honeyduke for the interaction, she was delighted by the serendipitous circumstance all the same. Surely he'd get the hang of it once he'd actually said something to her, wouldn't he?

"Oh, Miss Swift," she greeted brightly as the other girl approached. "We were just speaking of you. Your truffles today have all been so terribly artistic, I believe you could give Mr. Honeyduke a run for his money were you to go into business." She had no idea whether Miss Swift's truffles were any better than the rest of the guests', as she hadn't been paying particular attention, but that didn't really matter — she wasn't trying to woo Miss Swift. Hopefully this would be enough to get Mr. Honeyduke started down the right path!

OOC: Fade out? Unless Kayte has plans to app Ismene soon I think we've reached the logical conclusion. xD

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   Elsie Kirke

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