It had to be You

New Orleans on business, and agreed practically on the same day to marry him and come north. She regretted it the rest of her life, I think. She wouldn’t set a foot outside when it was cold. She even refused to ever buy a heavy coat or winter boots. She once went to a play in town in a blizzard wearing only her velvet cloak and had to take to her bed for three days after.”
    Miss Jones was making a “blab-blab-blab“ gesture with her right hand and holding on to the stitch she was knitting with her left.
    That’s when Lily realized that both of them had their hands occupied with knitting. She noted at the same time that there were shelves on the side wall with a great many hanks and balls of yarn as well as several projects that were completed and folded neatly. This, too, was a large bedroom, easily big enough for two ladies to share.
    Before Miss Smith could go on about her grandmother, Lily turned to Miss Jones. “And your name? Where did you get it?”
    Miss Jones took a deep, slightly raspy breath, and said, “My mother and father traveled to France for their honeymoon and loved the girls’ names.“ She managed it without coughing after she spoke.
    Miss Twibell rose to her feet gingerly and said, “Miss Brewster and I need to have a private talk.“ Goodbyes were said, in great detail by Miss Smith, before the other two women could get away. The young woman named Betty was sitting in the main room, reading a magazine. “Could you hold down the fort while I have a talk with Miss Brewster?“ Miss Twibell asked her.
    “I’d be glad to. I’ve read this magazine before. I just looked in on Mr. Connor again. He’s sleeping peacefully, but still running two degrees of fever.”
    Miss Twibell took Lily out into the hall and said, “We’ll go to my private sitting room. There are speaking tubes with bells everywhere in the place that can ring me there if I’m needed.”
    Lily remembered when Robert’s friend, known to them as “Mad Henry,“ had tried to set up a system like this at Grace and Favor. His idea had been a disaster, but had nonetheless helped to solve a mystery. Lily assumed that Miss Twibell’s speaking tubes worked more efficiently than Mad Henry’s.
    Miss Twibell’s sitting room was lovely in an old-fashioned way. Two large sofas flanked a big fireplace, and a group of chairs and a table were arranged by a large window through which Lily could see the grounds outside the back of the home. This is where Miss Twibell seated them.
    “I see that Mr. Farleigh, my other patient, is already doing his first mowing,“ she said, glancing outside. Lily looked. A thin man wearing corduroy trousers, a white shirt, a blue vest, and a brown tweed jacket was pushing a mower around below the window. She could just barely hear the snick of the blades as he moved.
    “Well, what do you think?“ Miss Twibell asked. She named a figure she’d pay each of them per day that was reasonable but by no means extravagant.
    “What will you expect us to do?“ Lily asked. “I’d like one or both of you to take the laundry down and bring it back. I have an assortment of wicker baskets. You could take some light loads down and back this afternoon if you’re free to stay the rest of the day.“
    “Of course I am,“ Lily agreed.
    Miss Twibell went on, “I think your brother, when he’s feeling better, could take bigger baskets, and entertain Miss Smith and Miss Jones.“ She immediately followed this with the beginning of an apology. “I know they’re charming, but if I hear one more time how Eulalia got her name—and you heard only a small portion of the story of her mother—I’ll go raving mad if these bunions don’t stop hurting.“
    “It’s right down Robert’s alley. He’s good with old ladies. Even ones he doesn’t like. He has a gift for acting as if he’s listening intently while his mind is somewhere else entirely.“
    “Good. Now that Betty is so occupied with Mr. Connor’s knee treatments, you might take on some of the dusting and mopping, if you don’t mind. It’s not hard. I also have a long dry mop for the cobwebs, which are always a problem in old houses. I’m convinced the webs hold on to germs.“
    “I never thought about that. They probably do.“ Lily knew that their maid, Mimi, was always after cobwebs. She wondered if it was because of germs or because Mimi hated spiders.
    “Fair warning, though,“ Miss Twibell went on, “I use a very strong soap on the floors.