Jemima bit the inside of her cheek to try and stop her eyebrows lifting in – either disbelief or apprehension, she wasn’t sure. Eager to meet her? She had always liked the thought of being bosom friends with any sisters her fantasy-suitors might have had, had always wished her friends had better brothers for prospects, but she couldn’t help but think it was a rather far-fetched idea now, things being what they were. There would be – work to do, if she had any hope of undoing a bad first impression.
So, in her braver moments of accepting her fate – submitting to it as a necessity, to spare her reputation if nothing else – she had begun to do her homework. (She had never been Hogwarts’ sort of homework, but she had been in society for enough seasons to pay mind to things that were said, and in clearing out her room she had found countless old copies of Witch Weekly to peruse, so...)
“Not very well,” Jemima answered, as he finally sat, trying not to feel as though she were being tested (she probably would be, later, but this Mr. Greengrass could not expect any expertise from her yet). “Of them, mostly,” she explained, because she certainly knew more about the Greengrass girls than she did about their brother sitting here. “I remember Miss Verity was – Head Girl,” but a few years older; and charming and pretty in the way that she had always looked up to from a safe distance. Of course, Jemima had heard a few things about her since then – about her coming out, oddly, at the same time as her sister, and her going missing, and then her own swift marriage – but none of those things were particularly complimentary to point out, and she hardly wanted Mr. Greengrass to think she thought herself in any place to judge. (She absolutely did not.)
“And Miss Grace,” had always seemed friendly to her, though they hadn’t ever gotten to know each other; but the latter two sisters were not yet married, so they did see each other on the society scene, “and Miss Clementine. She was a year below me.” A Hufflepuff too, friends with Miss Bonaccord, and a little too clever for Jemima to have been particularly at ease in her company. She certainly didn’t know her any better nowadays than she had then.
So it wasn’t a fount of knowledge to impress anyone, Jemima thought mournfully, but at least she knew their names. “And you have a brother, too...?” She couldn’t recall his name, but they looked alike enough for her to be sure of it – both brown eyed and brown haired and tall. The other brother was perhaps a little more rugged or confident, she thought. Or something. (What insight she thought any of this could possibly give her about how much or how little they might hate her as a sister-in-law, she wasn’t sure. But maybe it was useful to have something to focus on, for now. Little coping mechanisms for life.)
So, in her braver moments of accepting her fate – submitting to it as a necessity, to spare her reputation if nothing else – she had begun to do her homework. (She had never been Hogwarts’ sort of homework, but she had been in society for enough seasons to pay mind to things that were said, and in clearing out her room she had found countless old copies of Witch Weekly to peruse, so...)
“Not very well,” Jemima answered, as he finally sat, trying not to feel as though she were being tested (she probably would be, later, but this Mr. Greengrass could not expect any expertise from her yet). “Of them, mostly,” she explained, because she certainly knew more about the Greengrass girls than she did about their brother sitting here. “I remember Miss Verity was – Head Girl,” but a few years older; and charming and pretty in the way that she had always looked up to from a safe distance. Of course, Jemima had heard a few things about her since then – about her coming out, oddly, at the same time as her sister, and her going missing, and then her own swift marriage – but none of those things were particularly complimentary to point out, and she hardly wanted Mr. Greengrass to think she thought herself in any place to judge. (She absolutely did not.)
“And Miss Grace,” had always seemed friendly to her, though they hadn’t ever gotten to know each other; but the latter two sisters were not yet married, so they did see each other on the society scene, “and Miss Clementine. She was a year below me.” A Hufflepuff too, friends with Miss Bonaccord, and a little too clever for Jemima to have been particularly at ease in her company. She certainly didn’t know her any better nowadays than she had then.
So it wasn’t a fount of knowledge to impress anyone, Jemima thought mournfully, but at least she knew their names. “And you have a brother, too...?” She couldn’t recall his name, but they looked alike enough for her to be sure of it – both brown eyed and brown haired and tall. The other brother was perhaps a little more rugged or confident, she thought. Or something. (What insight she thought any of this could possibly give her about how much or how little they might hate her as a sister-in-law, she wasn’t sure. But maybe it was useful to have something to focus on, for now. Little coping mechanisms for life.)
