She could tell Miss Dashwood was young and excitable from all her eagerness of temperament – Estelle might suppose that would fade with age and time out in society, but since she had never been of that character, even in school, she couldn’t say for certain. Society, like an unflattering funhouse mirror, did have a way of dampening people’s hopes and exacerbating their flaws in front of everyone else. But Miss Dashwood evidently had a clever streak for arranging all this; so perhaps she would find herself married and settled quickly, before all her passions and free-spirited tendencies overtook her.
So Estelle hoped – they could be friends for now, but if Poppy Dashwood proved an inch of trouble, she would have to cut her from her circles at once. (Estelle said, as if she had any actual circles of her own.)
But for the moment, it was so very pleasant to have a younger girl looking up to her with such free admiration that Estelle’s cool nature thawed. (Her icy heart had not melted entirely – not even chicken from an icebox would be defrosted from so miserable a warmth – but it was a warmth, nonetheless.) “I am much obliged to hear it,” Estelle said, and indeed felt equally, unnaturally, obliged to show it. So – once Miss Dashwood had put down her teacup again – she reached across the table and patted Miss Dashwood’s hand, companionably. “I shall be quite delighted to have you for my friend. And we must keep writing to one another, to be sure. You must tell me of all your schemes.” The last was a joke, but the rest was sincerely meant – they really must be friends.
As long as she kept extolling Estelle’s virtues, at least!
So Estelle hoped – they could be friends for now, but if Poppy Dashwood proved an inch of trouble, she would have to cut her from her circles at once. (Estelle said, as if she had any actual circles of her own.)
But for the moment, it was so very pleasant to have a younger girl looking up to her with such free admiration that Estelle’s cool nature thawed. (Her icy heart had not melted entirely – not even chicken from an icebox would be defrosted from so miserable a warmth – but it was a warmth, nonetheless.) “I am much obliged to hear it,” Estelle said, and indeed felt equally, unnaturally, obliged to show it. So – once Miss Dashwood had put down her teacup again – she reached across the table and patted Miss Dashwood’s hand, companionably. “I shall be quite delighted to have you for my friend. And we must keep writing to one another, to be sure. You must tell me of all your schemes.” The last was a joke, but the rest was sincerely meant – they really must be friends.
As long as she kept extolling Estelle’s virtues, at least!
