CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
This morning unfolded in much the same manner as any other. As I took to the garden swing, enjoying the soft creak of the ropes and the hum of summer air, Papa sent the young maid, Vivian, to summon me. I inquired as to the purpose of his request, but she confessed she did not know the reason. We made our way toward the study, and I confess—I began to feel a curious unease settle upon me. The room remained largely unchanged, save for the letters strewn carelessly across the polished mahogany desk and a few sheets of paper scattered upon the floor. I noted, too, the presence of several new books upon his shelf. I curtsied lightly and said, “You sent for me, Papa.” There was a long silence. He did not answer at once, merely sat still, until he cleared his throat. I glanced up, and our e
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