To my surprise, Viviana’s hat ended up looking much better than I had anticipated. It was bold, daring, and a much brighter purple than I would have chosen, but I had to admit that there were many ladies I knew who might look very well in it.

One young lady seemed particularly interested, though as soon as her papa saw the hat he frowned and shook his head.

“You cannot think of buying that, Virginia,” he said to her. He was tall and thin, and wore clothing that was so finely made that it seemed ostentatious, even for one of my customers. His hair was thin, and he bared his teeth in a way that reminded me strongly of a wolf.

“Indeed,” said a taller young lady who accompanied them, and whose green dress was much bolder than young Virginia’s white muslin. “What we should be talking about is how to help the wounded from Peterborough, not spending money on hats.”

“The wounded?!” said the older man. “What you fail to see, my young niece, is that it is precisely hats like this that you young women must avoid. The fashion today is to be as ridiculous as possible, with nothing of the decorum that befits a young lady or a gentleman. If we did not have fashions like this, those ‘wounded’ of which you are speaking would have known their place, not gone out and caused all kind of havoc.”

“You’re saying that this purple hat has something to do with the massacre at Peterloo?” said the young woman in green, wrinkling her nose. “Uncle, please be serious. One tinge of purple and you think that the whole country is going to the dogs.”

“I said no such thing,” he snapped. “Although when young people think it fit to riot in the streets, rather than respecting traditions they know little of, you may be sure that we all ought to be concerned about the direction of our country.”

“And when those same young people are butchered by the army,” said the young woman, “We must all be doubly concerned.”

“Please, cousin Kitty,” said the other young woman, speaking for the first time and looking up at the tall woman. “We must take care not to upset papa.”

The woman in the green dress shook her head, and though she turned so that I could only see the back of her, I surmised that her eyebrows continued to perform much of the work, animating her face as she refused to let the issue go. Indeed, she was like a dog with a bone, just as I might have been. “People out of work, and dead, and starving? I agree, we oughtn’t to upset anyone. There is great hazard in it.”

Though part of me still wished the woman might do me the great favor of purchasing some item, I could no longer resent her. And the man, who had been so insistent on purchasing a great many hats, suddenly seemed like my enemy.

“Please, my dear niece,” he said. “I realize that this men’s world must seem rather brutal to you. But you mustn’t believe that you understand it. After all, it is quite outside your experience, and your education, of course.”

“That is because you and my father have seen that nothing of any import dare enter my education. What I have learned of the massacre, I have learned myself in between dancing lessons and sessions with our Latin tutor. I do not see the use that Latin will have to anyone, least of all myself,” she breathed.

With a twinge of guilt, I thought of my daughter and her Latin verbs. Perhaps I had been neglecting some part of her education, favoring respectability over substance. I should have to remedy this immediately. Vivi was always asking me about broadsheets that she saw, and I realized with some shame that I rarely took the trouble of discussing them with her.

The young woman, whom I only knew now as Kitty, continued. “I am a citizen,” she said. “I am just as much a part of this ‘brutal men’s problem’ as anyone else. Since nobody in this government cares to work for the public, I’m sure that I ought to see if I can do things better. At the very least, perhaps I could think of a way for Parliament to govern without striking down my fellow citizens in the street.”

At this, her uncle laughed aloud, much to her consternation. “I have served in the House of Lords for longer than you have been alive, my dear,” he said, “And you must trust me that I have worked tirelessly for the public.”

This time, the smaller of the two women had a face frozen in a smile, and young Kitty was so angry that she could not speak. As the hostess, in a manner of speaking, I decided it was time for me to join them.

“Indeed, young lady,” I said to Kitty, though she could not have been more than ten years my junior. “We must all be attentive to our duty to serve the public, particularly in these tragic times.”

This made Kitty perk up a little, but the man only laughed once again. “Tragic?” he said, not believing me. “That is not at all what I would call it. Well, you may not understand this, as you are young, and a woman. But those slow people of Manchester needed to learn a bit about their country, see.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Then it is your view that such knowledge should be achieved through deat?”

He straightened himself up. “There are many honorable young men who have died for their country, madam,” he said. “Surely you do not intend to slight them.”

I shook my head. “Certainly not. I am mindful of their sacrifice.”

The man must have thought that I was quite finished, for he turned toward one of my top hats. But I smiled and kept speaking to him.

“I also feel that we ought not to worry night and day about our children dying in public squares, here on our very own soil,” I said, endeavoring to keep my tone polite and my voice completely level.

I thought that by identifying myself as a mother, I might find a way to calm down this particular father. But he only grew redder. “Well, I hope you do not have to worry about such a thing, although I do not believe you are clever enough to avoid it,” he snapped. “My daughter would never disgrace herself with such foolishness, and after I am through with her, my niece will have nothing to do with it either. Good day!” he said, shepherding both of the young women out of the shop.