For two people who shared the same birthday month, they were startlingly unlike each other, Rosamund considered, smiling from Angeline Malfoy to Tilda MacFusty and back again. Miss Malfoy was poised where Tilda was passionate, and Tilda was redheaded and rosy where Angeline was cool and blonde. Still, Rommy found she quite liked Miss Malfoy out of the company of her usual friends, and she had always liked Tilda, in school and out. Nor could she help chuckling at the notion of being sixty-five and poisoning oneself.
Privately, Rommy thought she was rather looking forward to being sixty-five. It seemed to her half the pressures of youth would be gone by then: no one would care if she was pretty or if she worked or if she had found an agreeable husband. She would have the freedom, she imagined, to fade out of people’s lives a little, to wander away with herself. But she doubted Angeline would fade out of society that way - nor Tilda fade out from anything.
Case in point, with the way the magazine had predicted something of her stubbornness, following her heart rather than her head. “Still, I think I’d rather have your regret, Tilda,” Rosamund remarked with a small laugh. “Mine is erring too often on the side of caution,” she explained, pulling a grimace in light of it; joke the quiz may be, but she felt a touch attacked by the notion - perhaps because it felt a little too true. “And yours, Miss Malfoy?” She glanced at the blonde next, wondering whether hers and Tilda’s were once again the same. “Better or worse?”
Privately, Rommy thought she was rather looking forward to being sixty-five. It seemed to her half the pressures of youth would be gone by then: no one would care if she was pretty or if she worked or if she had found an agreeable husband. She would have the freedom, she imagined, to fade out of people’s lives a little, to wander away with herself. But she doubted Angeline would fade out of society that way - nor Tilda fade out from anything.
Case in point, with the way the magazine had predicted something of her stubbornness, following her heart rather than her head. “Still, I think I’d rather have your regret, Tilda,” Rosamund remarked with a small laugh. “Mine is erring too often on the side of caution,” she explained, pulling a grimace in light of it; joke the quiz may be, but she felt a touch attacked by the notion - perhaps because it felt a little too true. “And yours, Miss Malfoy?” She glanced at the blonde next, wondering whether hers and Tilda’s were once again the same. “Better or worse?”
