14 August, 1892 — Daphnel Home, Wellingtonshire
Victor recalled having a frank conversation with Miss Dempsey the day before, and being generally satisfied with how it had gone. Unfortunately, even by the end of the party that night he was having trouble recalling exactly what he'd asked her. He hadn't planned on having a direct conversation with her (he supposed that had been the alcohol), and in the clear light of the next morning couldn't fathom which questions he might have asked her to determine her suitability as a wife. He could not press forward on the blind assumptions that he'd managed to cover all the bases in one spontaneous conversation while a little drunk.
Of course, this train of thought was only putting something else into stark relief: he didn't actually know what he wanted in a wife. He had a laundry list of things he knew annoyed him, which he wanted to avoid, but beyond that... how had he begun this process without coming up with a particular list of traits to seek out?
He wanted to talk through this with someone, but his options were limited. A friend would have teased him or lost patience with him. His mother might have taken it as a sign that she needed to be more involved in directing the process, which wasn't his intention. His younger brothers were, Victor generally thought, too ignorant in the ways of the world to have good advice about anything; neither of them were looking to marry soon, so they likely hadn't given the matter more thought than he had. There was someone in his home that he knew must have given the matter a great deal of thought, though — only from the other side of things.
"Bea," he said over breakfast that morning, after lingering long enough that their mother had left the table. His brothers hadn't been at breakfast; one was sleeping off a hangover and the other was staying with friends at the moment. "What do you think makes a good marriage?"
Of course, this train of thought was only putting something else into stark relief: he didn't actually know what he wanted in a wife. He had a laundry list of things he knew annoyed him, which he wanted to avoid, but beyond that... how had he begun this process without coming up with a particular list of traits to seek out?
He wanted to talk through this with someone, but his options were limited. A friend would have teased him or lost patience with him. His mother might have taken it as a sign that she needed to be more involved in directing the process, which wasn't his intention. His younger brothers were, Victor generally thought, too ignorant in the ways of the world to have good advice about anything; neither of them were looking to marry soon, so they likely hadn't given the matter more thought than he had. There was someone in his home that he knew must have given the matter a great deal of thought, though — only from the other side of things.
"Bea," he said over breakfast that morning, after lingering long enough that their mother had left the table. His brothers hadn't been at breakfast; one was sleeping off a hangover and the other was staying with friends at the moment. "What do you think makes a good marriage?"
Fabulous set by Lady!