Isaac sat across from Lydia at dinner, trying to read her expression. She had been sullen these past few days when he’d come to call on her, and each time he’d asked her what was the matter, she would smile and say nothing, only that she hadn’t been feeling well. He could tell it was more than that, however. She wasn’t acting ill; she was acting as if something heavy was weighing upon her mind.
Her father and mother chatted about spring plantings over roasted duck, and Isaac did his part to maintain the conversation the best he could, though his worry over Lydia should’ve been evident to anyone who cared to notice. Mr. de Lisle seemed oblivious to his daughter’s state, and Mrs. de Lisle seemed content to overlook it, though she did fuss over Lydia eating more at one point during the meal.
