In all honesty, it still felt weird to her too. Still – “You can’t possibly miss it,” Jemima teased jovially, because she remembered her time as a debutante bemoaning and fretting about nearly everything, and she was sure Delilah had been bored sick of her as the seasons went on, particularly when she had other, better things to do. But, in spite of that, Jemima did hope a little that her elder sister missed her a little, now that she had been gone from home for more than half a year.
She looked at her sister over the tea she’d just been passed, pouring the milk and stirring without paying much attention to it. “I’m well,” she said brightly, feeling as though Delilah’s tone was very determinedly searching, but also feeling as though she was no longer pretending with an upbeat answer, the way she had had to in the earliest days of being married, and scrutinised by all of society for how she would lie in the bed she had made. She smiled back, feeling shy. In a lower, confidential tone, she added: “And I really do think I mean that.”
She looked at her sister over the tea she’d just been passed, pouring the milk and stirring without paying much attention to it. “I’m well,” she said brightly, feeling as though Delilah’s tone was very determinedly searching, but also feeling as though she was no longer pretending with an upbeat answer, the way she had had to in the earliest days of being married, and scrutinised by all of society for how she would lie in the bed she had made. She smiled back, feeling shy. In a lower, confidential tone, she added: “And I really do think I mean that.”
