THE ARTIST'S EYE
time: Mid-morning
place: At the Fitzpercy estate in Palisade.
participants: Chrysanthemum Fitzpercy and Euphemia Lowe
premise: Chrysanthemum has invited Euphemia to her house for morning of sketching and light refreshment.
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Chrysanthemum Fitzpercy was not yet the mistress of her own household, but her dear Mama insisted that she learn. The chore was not at all taxing for her, as, much like that very Mama, she adored the company of others, especially when she was the hostess and they must all be obliged to pay notice to her. She helped Lady Lily organize delightful gatherings regularly now that she was nineteen, and it was good practice, but every now and then, she would also be given leave to plan her own get-togethers. Chrysanthemum was of the opinion that she had quite the artist's eye when it came to such matters- her taste, though eclectic, was excellent, and no one had ever questioned it. She preferred larger parties, of course-- The more guests, the more diversions there could be, and if there were enough, there could even be dancing, which was a pleasure that trumped all others at the age of nineteen. However, Chrysanthemum could also see the merits of more private meetings. Parties were delightful, but left barely any room for the natural intimacy that sprung from close association.
Thus, whenever she met anyone delightful at a dance, she was careful to invite them to the Fitzpercy Estate later on, so that she could get to know them properly. Hovering over one person at a dance was both boorish and dull, a waste of time when there were so many people to court attention from, but to invite them to the estate after! That showed a liberal and generous spirit, and a natural affection which could be gracefully nurtured into an enduring friendship. Chrysanthemum prided herself on being so sensitive to such matters. She was, she bragged happily to herself, quite a discreet, understanding, and modest young woman.
As was Miss Lowe, of course! Chrysanthemum had realized that at once when they first met, and had cherished the impression, having found it to be mysteriously difficult to strike up friendships amongst most of the noble daughters of the Palisade. This made Miss Lowe all the more delightful for her rarity, of course, and the thought of spending a morning drawing with her was delightful. Chrysanthemum fluffed a pillow eagerly as she waited for her guest to arrive, then scurried over to straighten Marigold's bow. "She shall be arriving any minute," she crooned eagerly to Marigold. "We will be our most delightful, and everyone will have a lovely time."
She thought about what way to best present herself when Miss Lowe was escorted into the room. Eventually, she settled upon picking up one of her history books and pretending to read it, eager to cultivate an air of absentminded scholasticism. "What do you think of this, Marigold?" she simpered, holding up the book daintily. Marigold grunted.
"It is my most sober and scholarly looking book," agreed Chrysanthemum primly. "And one day, I shall read it all the way through."
Cynnybun
