�I beg your pardon, precious�what kind of lessons?�
Kate frowned as she thought a moment. �Debordmen lessons, Papa. Mrs.Dubois is starting a class for us.�
Royce surrendered and turned to Victoria for help. She didn�t look up from the dress she was smocking for her daughter. �Deportment,� she interpreted, her tone of voice implying something more than disapproval.
�Ah.� Royce boosted Kate into his lap. �And just what will you learn in these classes, Kate precious?�
�Well�how to sit down and stand up and walk and hold a teacup and. . .�
�Don�t you already know how to do those things?�
She turned to her mother. �Do I?�
Victoria bit off a thread with more force than necessary. �You�ve been dining with our guests since you were four, Kate. I daresay your manners are better than Mignon�s.�
�But Mignon says that I have to learn how to be a lady.� Kate�s earnest demeanor brought a smile from her father.
�Ah, a lady. What does it mean�to be a lady?�
�How to sit down and stand up and walk and hold a teacup and curtsey.�
�Curtsey. To whom?�
�I don�t know.�
�Well, we are going to London in the summer. Perhaps you�ll meet the King of England and have use for that knowledge.�
�Royce.�
He smiled. �You understand that I�m teasing you, Kate.�
She giggled. �Yes, Papa. You said I�d see Big Ben and the Tower of London, but you didn�t say anything about the King.�
�Precisely. Now continue�what else does it mean to be a lady?�
Kate thought again and admitted that she didn�t know.
�Do you know any ladies?�
�Is Mother a lady?�
�She�s the finest lady I know�maybe the finest anywhere in the world.�
�Royce.�
He glanced at her. �Not only the finest lady I know, but the queen of my heart.�
�Nick says I�m a princess.�
�You are Papa�s princess, to be sure.�
Kate squirmed with delight.
�But getting back to the subject at hand�why do you think I said that your mother is a fine lady?�
�Because you love her,� Kate said without hesitation.�
�Besides that. For example, doesn�t she teach you many things?�
�Oh, yes! When we have tea every afternoon, she uses the little pot and lets me pour. I�m very careful, you know.�
�I�m sure you are. What else does she teach you?�
�Well, she says that well-brought-up-little girls don�t come down the stairs like a herd of cowponies on the ranch.�
�That�s true,� Royce replied, stifling his laughter.
�And she says that it isn�t nice to stare at people that don�t look like me�and that I should always talk to everyone the same way, and that I shouldn�t talk at all unless someone talks to me first.�
�Yes. Go on.�
�And when I stamped my foot, she used the wooden spoon on me,� Kate continued in an aggrieved tone.
�Why is that?�
�Because she said that well-brought-up-little-girls don�t let people know they�re mad�even if they�re mad for a good reason.�
�So your mother has been teaching you to be a well-brought-up-little girl.�
�I suppose so.�
�Did you know that well-brought-up-little-girls turn into fine ladies?�
�Do they really, Papa?�
�Oh, yes, most certainly.�
�Then why is Mignon�s mother starting a class to teach Mignon how to be a lady? Is she not a well-brought-up-little-girl?�
Royce opened his mouth, closed it, then glanced past his daughter�s head in the direction of his wife.
This time she looked up. �I believe you initiated this line of conversation,� she said with a wink. �Do continue.�
�Victoria, my love, I�m asking for. . .�
�Help?�
He raised his eyes in an attitude of surrender.
Victoria put aside her sewing. �Your papa is right, Kate darling. Well-brought-up-little-girls turn into fine ladies without deportment classes. I don�t presume to say what Etoile DuBois�s motives are, but you may not take the class because you already know what a six-year-old little girl needs to know�and when you are seven, I will teach you what you need to know then.�
�And when I�m eight and then nine and then. . .�
�Gently, gently, Kate!� Royce drew her head down onto his shoulder and stroked her hair. �I don�t want my princess growing up too soon.�
�Suffice it to say, Kate, that you will know everything you need to know when you need to know it.�
Kate sighed. �Debordmen didn�t sound like much fun anyway.�
Victoria muttered something under her breath.
�What was that, my love? I couldn�t quite make it out.�
�I simply said. . .well, never mind.�
�I didn�t know that ladies muttered.�
�All right, we�re even,� she said.
Royce laughed. �Touche?�
�A well-brought-up-little-girl might go into the kitchen and ask Isabel to bring our coffee now.� Victoria began to put her sewing things away.
As soon as Kate hopped down from his lap and disappeared in the direction of the kitchen, Royce rose and crossed the room to his wife. �I wouldn�t trade places with the King of England, you know,� he murmured, bending to kiss her.
�No?�
�Not for all the crown jewels in the Tower of London.�
�Nor would I trade places with the queen.�
He lifted her to her feet and held her close. �I do love you, Victoria.�
�I never get tired of hearing that.�
Kate reappeared, her small face lighting up as she saw her parents embracing. It was a sight that never failed to fill her with warm feelings and other emotions she had no vocabulary to describe. They called it the sharing love time.
They saw her at the same time. �Come, Kate,� Victoria said, holding out her hand. �We�re sharing love, and you must have some, too.�
She squeezed in between them and wrapped her arms around her father�s legs. �Mignon said sharing love time was silly.�
�What do you think?� Victoria asked.
�I think it�s not silly.�
Royce picked her up. �Someday, Kate precious, you�ll look back on these times and know how very important they were.�
�Well-brought-up-little girls are well-loved little girls,� her mother said.
�Like I am,� Kate said.
�Like you are,� Royce said. �And someday you will be a fine lady like your mother.�
Kate turned to rest her fingers on Victoria�s cheek. �Just like her?�
�Just like her.�
�And we�ll all share love forever?�
Royce didn�t hesitate. �Forever, Kate precious. Love is forever.� He leaned around her to kiss Victoria.
Victoria�s eyes misted. �Yes,� she murmured. �Yes.�
*******
From the journal of Dr. Katherine Barkley Wardell:
The sharing love times went on as long as Mother was alive. I vividly remember the last. She was already quite frail, but she had not yet given up coming downstairs for dinner in the evening. Papa refused my offers to help her dress, but I was useful for administering the medication that allowed her to spend the evening without too much pain.
That last evening�though we didn�t know it would be the last�we sat in the parlor after dinner. I served coffee and Silas�s poundcake which Mrs. Bonds had managed to get almost right. Mother�s eyes seemed as bright as the flames flickering in the fireplace, and she was more animated than I�d seen her in weeks.
�This room has always been a peaceful place,� she murmured.
�We�ve shared so many evenings here together. I�ll never forget them,� I said.
�You have good memories then?� she asked, stretching a hand to me.
I rose and went to sit by her, folding her hands in mine. �So good, Mother. I�m not sure that anyone I know has as many happy memories as I do.�
She smiled across at Papa in his chair. �We�ve been a good family.�
He nodded, and I knew he was struggling with his emotions.
�The best,� I said.
I could almost see the pain returning as the medicine wore off. �Would you like to go upstairs, Mother?�
She nodded, and I helped her to her feet. �I should�I should like for us to share love,� she said in a voice so faint that I almost didn�t hear her, but Papa did. He crossed to us and took us both in his arms.
�I think this is the best memory of all,� I whispered, fighting back tears.
She took my face in her hands and looked at me for a long moment. �From the first, we had so much love�enough to share�and when you came, there was even more.�
*********
When Teddy and I married two years later, I said that I was going to sell the house. He was clearly shocked.
�What better place to live?� he asked. �There was so much love here! I feel it each time I walk in the door�and our children will know it, too.�
�Are you sure? Papa always said not to hold onto the past�no matter how good or how bad it had been.�
�We�re not doing that, Kate. We�re building our lives on the foundation they laid. And if the memories are still here�all the better.�
I laid my head against his chest. �It would be hard to leave, but I don�t want any shadows on our marriage.�
�Good memories aren�t shadows, Kate. And we�ll make more memories for our children, and perhaps one of them will choose to live here when we�re gone.�
Many years later, our daughter and her husband made that choice. I think of Mother and Papa�and of Teddy�and feel that they are here with us still. I have never lived in the past and taught my children not to do so�but the past lives in me�in all of us�and it is good.