He looked in the eyepiece and promptly forgot she was there. Susanna left the hospital and started down the hill, pleased that the wind wasn’t blowing so hard, and wondering what compositions she would get tomorrow about overdue Christmas presents.
She was planning the rest of the week’s lessons in her mind and nearly overlooked Nick Martin, trudging up the hill. He looked so cold that her heart went out to him. She touched his arm as he passed her.
“You need to be indoors,” she said.
“That’s where I’m going,” he replied with considerable dignity. “Major Randolph tells me to clean out the ashes in your classroom and sweep the floor.”
“I wondered who my benefactor was,” she told him, pleased to see him smile.
He shivered and she waved him on, wondering how his mind worked. She stood still a moment after he passed, thinking of Maeve Rattigan with her own sorrows, and the cheerful Katie O’Leary, inured to snubs from other officers’ wives. Everyone bends and we try not to break, she told herself, looking back at the hospital and thinking about Major Randolph and the heartbreak of his life.
“I suppose no one is immune to misfortune,” she told the wind as she hurried down the hill and into the Reeses’ quarters, where Stanley was riding a new hobbyhorse, and her cousin was looking through a stereopticon, her mouth open with the wonder of it. Susanna smiled to think that in homes all over the garrison, Christmas had finally arrived.
Every student had a story to tell the next morning. Susanna set aside her routine and gave everyone an opportunity to describe new dolls with eyes that blinked, and a wind-up train with enough track to stretch from the front hall to the kitchen in a standard four-room quarters.
She wanted to compliment the Dunklins’ son on his excellent drawings of yesterday, but he was not present. She remarked about that to Emily over luncheon on new china—only three pieces arrived broken—that Captain Reese had ordered for his wife.
“That reminds me,” Emily said. “Mrs. Dunklin has invited you to a meeting at her quarters tonight.” She found the invitation, and held it out to Susanna. “She wants the parents to have a chance to meet you. Isn’t that kind? I don’t think the Dunklins have ever given even a card party before, and now this.”
“But their boy must be ill, so I wonder why she would do that,” Susanna said. She glanced at the clock. “You’re not invited?”
“No.” There was no denying the relief in Emily’s eyes, which made Susanna wonder even more. “It’s only the parents of students.” Her cousin frowned. “Does she mean to invite you to a house filled with contagion?”
“I doubt the matter is quite that drastic,” Susanna said. “Still …”
She thought about it when her older pupils were preparing their afternoon recitations and her little ones were attempting the alphabet without benefit of any help from the blackboard this time. Her mind was no easier when Major Randolph stopped by the schoolroom after her students had filed out, to invite her to accept his escort to the Dunklins’ that evening.
After spending an inordinate amount of time trying to decide between green wool and black bombazine, Susanna settled on the black, which struck her as more sober and teacherly. In one of his better moments, Frederick had remarked how nice she looked in black, with the contrast of her blond hair. Perhaps Major Randolph would feel the same way.
He did, apparently, if the look in his eyes when she opened the door to his knock was any indication.
“Mighty fine, Mrs. Hopkins,” he said.
Susanna blushed like a schoolgirl, and turned the conversation, remembering the microscope. “Have you made any earth-shattering discoveries with your microscope, Major?” she asked.
“No. A few years ago, I read a paper in a French journal about Louis Pasteur’s theory of germ disease. I thought a microscope of my own was in order, after that.”
“Why should that embarrass you?” she asked, curious because he seemed suddenly shy.
“I’ll share my little secret. I want to study germ theory in Paris with Louis Pasteur.”
“How did that come about?” Susanna asked, curious.
“My interest was always there. I was a long way through medical school before I admitted to myself that my favorite classes were the ones using microscopes, pond water and mold.”
“But you’re a good doctor of … of people.”
He bowed elaborately, which made Susanna smile. “Thank you! It’s theory that intrigues me the most,