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XXIII. Miss Lavendar’s Romance

           

           “I’msogladyou’rehere,Anne,”saidMissLavendar,nibblingathercandy.“Ifyouweren’tIshouldbeblue...veryblue...almostnavyblue.Dreamsandmake-believesareallverywellinthedaytimeandthesunshine,butwhendarkandstormcometheyfailtosatisfy.Onewantsrealthingsthen.Butyoudon’tknowthis...seventeenneverknowsit.AtseventeendreamsDOsatisfybecauseyouthinktherealitiesarewaitingforyoufurtheron.WhenIwasseventeen,Anne,Ididn’tthinkforty-fivewouldfindmeawhite-hairedlittleoldmaidwithnothingbutdreamstofillmylife.”

           “Butyouaren’tanoldmaid,”saidAnne,smilingintoMissLavendar’swistfulwoodbrowneyes.“OldmaidsareBORN...theydon’tBECOME.”

           “Somearebornoldmaids,someachieveoldmaidenhood,andsomehaveoldmaidenhoodthrustuponthem,”parodiedMissLavendarwhimsically.

           “Youareoneofthosewhohaveachieveditthen,”laughedAnne,“andyou’vedoneitsobeautifullythatifeveryoldmaidwerelikeyoutheywouldcomeintothefashion,Ithink.”

           “Ialwaysliketodothingsaswellaspossible,”saidMissLavendarmeditatively,“andsinceanoldmaidIhadtobeIwasdeterminedtobeaveryniceone.PeoplesayI’modd;butit’sjustbecauseIfollowmyownwayofbeinganoldmaidandrefusetocopythetraditionalpattern.Anne,didanyoneevertellyouanythingaboutStephenIrvingandme?”

           “Yes,”saidAnnecandidly,“I’veheardthatyouandhewereengagedonce.”

           “Sowewere...twenty-fiveyearsago...alifetimeago.

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