A Lasting Impression

kind to me. I think the world of them both.”
    She dearly hoped Mrs. Acklen wouldn’t inquire about how long she’d known the Buntings. For the Buntings’ sake, as well as her own.
    With a queenly nod, Mrs. Acklen returned her cup to its saucer with a soft tink and set it aside . She arranged her hands demurely in her lap, as though preparing to sit for a portrait, then reached up and touched the pendant on the front of her dress.
    Only then did Claire realize she was staring at it. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Acklen.” She gave a nervous smile. “It’s just so beautiful. And distinctive.”
    “It’s a hunting horn and a hound’s head.” She fingered it delicately. “A gift from Emperor Napoleon and Empress Eugenie at Les Tuileries , following our fox hunt.”
    Claire blinked. France was her birthplace, and yet this woman went fox hunting with the emperor and empress? She felt more insignificant by the second. “It’s lovely.”
    “ Merci beaucoup, mademoiselle. ” Mrs. Acklen smiled, eyeing her with deeper interest. “Perchance, have you been to that lovely country?”
    “ Oui, madame, ” Claire said softly, not nearly so eager to reveal her heritage now that she knew the extent of Mrs. Acklen’s social connections. “I am originally from Paris. But I grew up here in America.”
    Mrs. Acklen nodded. “You’re not the first French girl to interview for this position.” She smoothed the sides of her upswept hair. “There have been several, as you might imagine.”
    “Oh yes. I’m sure.” Claire felt a sinking inside as a much-needed advantage slipped away.
    Mrs. Acklen resumed her poised position. “Now, let us turn to the business at hand, shall we? May I see your résumé, Miss Laurent?”
    Claire summoned her readied response. “Actually, I didn’t bring a résumé, ma’am. I learned about the position only this morning, so I didn’t have time to prepare one. However, with your permission, I’m prepared to tell you about myself and why I believe I would perform quite well in this very important position.”
    Claire smiled, hoping it would bridge the gap between expectation and reality. But her smile went unreciprocated.
    Mrs. Acklen raised a forefinger, not even a whole hand. But that tiniest of gestures carried a weight of displeasure. “Allow me to clarify my understanding of your situation, Miss Laurent.”
    Claire waited, finding the stiff cordiality of the woman’s tone less than reassuring.
    “Between the moment you learned of the position this morning and”—Mrs. Acklen briefly looked past her—“a quarter before five o’clock in the evening, you could neither find the time, nor pen and paper, I presume, to list your experiences and talents. To briefly define your individual, God-given characteristics that would aid in convincing me that you are indeed the right young woman to serve in this very important position. Is that the understanding I am to form from what you have relayed to me thus far?”
    Claire’s cheeks burned as though she’d been slapped. Every intelligible thought vanished.
    She broke out in a cold sweat, which only deepened her concern about the borrowed ensemble. She had to focus. She had to think of something to say. “I could have listed all of that on a piece of paper, yes, ma’am. But it wouldn’t have been a formal résumé, which I knew someone in your position would expect.”
    “So instead of bringing less than what was expected, Miss Laurent”—Mrs. Acklen’s old-soul eyes held hers without mercy—“you brought nothing?”
    Wordless with embarrassment, Claire felt a coolness on her tongue and realized her mouth was hanging open. She promptly closed it. She tried to take a deep breath, but her rigid posture—and the corset she’d tied extra snug in the hope of appearing more fashionable—prevented it. The image of seeing herself fainted dead away on Mrs. Acklen’s pristine floral carpet spurred her on. “If you will allow me to give account of my knowledge and skills, I believe they will prove to be more than adequate.” More than adequate! She barely masked her grimace. That’s not what she’d planned to say! “What I meant was . . . if you will allow me to expound on my strengths, I’m—”
    Irritation clouded Mrs. Acklen’s features, and Claire hastened to regain lost ground.
    “I’m thoroughly experienced in bookkeeping and am very detail-oriented by nature. I’ve organized a library.” She forced a smile, which died