Father, I have slipped a few ginger biscuits into my apron pocket. Might I tempt you?” Diana asked as she came into her father’s study where he was sitting alone after supper.

“I hope you did not tell your mother.”

“Sh-h-h… our secret,” she said as she handed the biscuits to her father and sat opposite him at his fire where he was puffing on his pipe and occasionally tapping it against the hearth grate.

Diana sat back in the chair and enjoyed the comfort of the fire as she smoothed out the apron on her lap.

“Father, I would very much like to know what has been troubling you financially. It is not as though I am an infant with an innocent outlook on life. I would like to see if there might be some way I could help out.”

Father contented himself with his pipe for a moment or two then said, “I expect you know what a leasehold is, am I correct in thinking?”

“You are. A freeholder owns the land and a leaseholder may own the property on the land but not the land. Yes?”

“And as you probably know we have this cottage as a leasehold.”

“I thought as much, but was not certain,” Diana replied.

“And our problem is that the term of our leasehold is about to expire. We have just three months before we need to renew the leasehold. And our freeholder wants at least a fifty-year renewed lease at twenty-five hundred pounds.”

“Oh, Father…”

“And that is what the bank loan was for—to renew the leasehold. And, as you know, a university fellow makes a modest salary at best. Your mother’s paintings bring in perhaps another couple of hundred a year, but I have no idea what your royalties might bring you?”

“Five hundred a year at the very best,” Diana answered despondently.

“Exactly. It is not a sum we can pull together easily without a loan or a windfall that I do not foresee.”

“What happens if we cannot make the payment?” she asked.

“We must leave.”

“But the house is ours. We paid for that,” she insisted, upset by what appeared to be the unfairness of the situation.

Father nodded in acknowledgement, “But it is a quirk of our system that allows one person to own the land and another to own the property on it. I suppose we could move the house, but how practical is that? And besides we would still need to find land to put the house on and that would cost us perhaps even more.”

“Oh, Father…” Diana was heartbroken and tried desperately to think of a possible solution. “And you have nothing set aside? No insurance policies that could be redeemed or assets that could be liquidated?”

“I am afraid not, child.”

They both sat staring into the fire looking for inspiration.

“I do have one thought,” he finally offered. “But I really hate to ask this.”

“Oh, please tell me.”

“Your beau, Adam… I know his father is quite wealthy. Might it be possible to ask Adam if he could broker a loan from his father for us?

“Oh, Father… I do not know… Adam is a good friend but nothing more at this point. That seems to be a terrible imposition to ask of a friend.”

“He is nothing more? I thought there was an imminent engagement in the works.”

“Alas, I know he would like that to be so, but I just cannot bring myself to enter into such an arrangement.”

“I thought you two were sweethearts,” he said somewhat surprised.

“I like Adam very much. He is a good friend and a loyal companion. We enjoy taking walks and chatting and discussing important issues. But to be honest, I do not feel any abiding passion for him.”

Father leaned his head against the back of the chair. “Ah yes, passion. Certainly, a concept most treasured by you young people today. But I can assure you, passion is not everything in a marriage. Why it was not that long ago that all marriages were arranged—and I can assure you, most were entered into with very little passion involved.”

“But that is not as true today,” Diana responded.

Her father nodded, then leaned in and said, “My dear child, let me assure you that I know of what I speak.”

“You and mother?”

“She may never have told you, but we were not what you call in love when we married. Our families, while not actually arranging the marriage, applied a great deal of pressure for us to become engaged. And to which we finally agreed.”

“I did not know.”

“And when you think about it, your situation is not all that dissimilar from ours. I was a promising scholar like your Adam, and Ann was an artist with a modest talent. Neither family had a great deal of wealth, but I was offered a fellowship at the university, and your mother was able to bring in an income from her paintings. And as neither of us had any other romantic prospects we decided to marry. More from a business standpoint and to please our parents than from any great passion. But I would also remind you that we did grow to love each other—very much.”

“I had no idea,” Diana said softly. “Let me think about all of this. I certainly want to help the family if I can. And if that means accepting a proposal from Adam in order to help then, I will certainly consider that.”

* * *

Diana was exhausted. She had tossed sleeplessly all night. Her mind had been consumed with thoughts about her family and Adam, and what she might be able to do to help solve her family’s urgent problem.

She sat on the edge of her bed after a sleepy breakfast and decided there was no way she would be able to attend to her writing this morning. Her head felt like raw wool that had not been carded—a tangled mess.

There was only one thing she could think to do, and that was to go visit her best friends, the twins, Miriam and Geoffrey Sinclair, who lived at the end of the cross street that ran along the side of the Browning’s house.

The Sinclair front door flung open. “Oh… it is you!” Geoffrey exclaimed and then turned and shouted into the house, “Our Di just appeared.”

There was a squeal from deep inside, and then the sound of running feet. Miriam appeared over Geoffrey’s shoulder.

“Look at you. Have you been run over by a cart?”

“Rescue, rescue,” Geoffrey shouted as he pulled Diana inside and grabbed her by one arm.

“Oh, my gosh, she needs a transfusion at the very least,” Miriam said grabbing her by the other arm.

Diana was then marched into the morning parlor and forced to sit between them on the sofa.

There was no question these two were twins. Both had curly blond hair—which they wore identically in a floppy, casual way. They had slightly round faces with blue eyes and blushing cheeks. And they flailed their hands and arms around with the same wild exaggeration.

The two turned to look at her. Geoffrey gestured with his finger in front of her face like he was making a sketch. Miriam fiddled with Diana’s hair.

“What can…”

“be done?” they both said.

Diana was almost too tired to resist, but she disengaged from their grasp and flung her arms out in a circle to clear her space from their intrusion. She stood.

“I am fine. Just fine. Well… not exactly fine, but I do not need fussing over.”

The twins leaned back away from her.

“But my dear…”

“it must be something,” the two said—one completing the other’s sentence.

Diana sat back down and sighed. She leaned her head against Geoffrey’s shoulder. “If I tell you, you must promise and swear that you will never, never, never tell another living soul.”

“Oh, my…”

“serious business,” the twins said.

“It is. Promise me,” Diana insisted.

They crossed their hearts simultaneously.

Diana then told the tale of her dilemma.

When she was finished the two sat mulling over what they’d just heard.

“Milk…”

“and warm muffins.”

They both shot up and went to the kitchen and soon returned carrying a tray with glasses of milk and a basket of muffins.

“How can…”

“we help?” they asked, determined to help Diana find a solution.

“I do not see how you can.”

“I know. Perhaps we could find a rainbow…”

“with a pot of gold at the end.”

Diana collapsed against the back of the sofa. “Realistically, it seems my only choice is to marry Adam. I know he would help out when the situation is explained to him—but only as my fiancé or husband.”

“But you like him, right?” Miriam asked.

“I do. But marriage? I am not ready for that. I have my writing. My parents still need me. I can’t just walk away from all of my responsibilities.”

“How could you…”

“sell more books?” they asked.

“I do not know,” Diana answered.

“What if you toured…

“and gave readings in London…”

“and around Britain?”

“I could speak to my publisher about that, but that would take time and we do not have that much time before we need to renew the leasehold.”

“You could always work the…

“streets in Soho,” the two let out in a scream of laughter.

“And that would earn me even less,” Diana countered with her own laughter.

“What if you explained the situation honestly to Adam in a friendly sort of way?” Geoffrey offered.

“And maybe he would help if you asked him?” Miriam concluded.

“That might be worth a try,” Diana said. “But then I—well, the whole family, actually—would feel obligated to him.”

“My dear, life is just filled…”

“with complications and compromises.”

* * *

Abigale had terrible arthritis in her hands and Kitty needed to walk with a cane because of her hip. They had no family, except for a nephew, Brandon Matthews, whom the sisters idolized. He was the manager of a prestigious bank in Bristol. He never visited, but occasionally sent a letter, and when he did, it was always a major event in their household. A daguerreotype of Brandon stood in a prominent place on the sitting-room mantel.

“We had a letter from Brandon,” Abigale greeted Diana and her mother even before they were inside the house. They had arrived bearing books from their home library, as George had thousands of books and the sisters had few. It was one form of entertainment both sisters enjoyed and Diana and Ann had promised to switch books with them every few weeks.

“I hope you have not read any of these titles,” Ann said, handing the books to Abigale.

She scanned the books. “Oh, no. These are all new to us.”

“Splendid.”

“We had a letter from Brandon.” Abigale enthused again, sitting the books on the kitchen table. “He’s just returned from traveling abroad. Would you like me to read the letter to you?” she asked then called out, “Kitty, will you bring Brandon’s letter? Diana and Ann have come to bring us fresh books.”

Neither Diana nor Ann wished to be subjected to a letter from Brandon—they were usually long and tedious and unrelated to anything they knew about.

“Thank you, but I must get back to my painting,” Ann said, laying her hand on Abigale’s arm, “and I cannot leave my gallery unattended for too long,” she added, backing toward the front door.

Diana had no such urgent excuse, so she was welcomed for tea and a lengthy and thorough reading of the letter at the kitchen table with added side comments along the way.

“You know Brandon received the MVO, did he not?” Abigale turned to Kitty for confirmation.

“No dear it was the OM.”

“Oh, was that it? Never mind. But it was some high order or other.”

“And his church made him a deacon, I believe, as well.”

“He is such a fine example of public service. We are so proud.”

“Yes, and let us continue with the letter, shall we dear?” Kitty insisted.

The sisters were surprised when there was a knocking at their front door.

“Better to see who that is,” Kitty insisted, not as easily able to get out of her chair as Abigale was.

“Look who is here,” Abigale said as she returned with Adam.

“Oh, Adam, hello,” a surprised Diana said

“Your mother said you were over here and might need a rescue,” he said, not thinking what he was saying.

“Well hardly a rescue,” Diana said, trying to cover for his thoughtless remark. “She must have said I need to recuse myself and get back to my writing.”

“Yes, exactly—recuse was the word,” Adam said, blushing slightly.

Diana stood. “I am so sorry, but I will need to hear the rest of the letter another time. It is true I must get back to my work and I must also have a word or two with Adam. I do hope you will enjoy the books we found for you.”

The sisters’ faces registered a brief disappointment at her parting, but smiled and thanked her for the books.

* * *

“Oh my, what an ass I can be sometimes,” Adam said as they left the sisters’ house and he took Diana’s arm, tripping on a stepping stone as they headed toward the street.

Diana giggled, “Yes, but you were totally accurate. I desperately did need rescuing.”

“Yes, it’s been a few days and I wanted to stop by and see how you were.”

Diana was not sure how to proceed, or if she should even bring up the topic, but she decided she must, as the family was in such a desperate bind.

She looked up at him and said, “Might we take a short walk in the meadow? I have something I very much need to discuss with you. Do you have the time?”

“I do,” he said squeezing her arm.

They headed down the side street past the Sinclair’s house and over the stile that lead to a meadow bordered by a wood where they frequently walked together. It was a partly cloudy morning and a little chilly. Adam put his arm around Diana’s shoulders and pulled her tightly against him to offer her some of his warmth.

“My dear Adam, I need to tell you about a situation my family is in.”

“Nothing serious, I trust,” he asked with some concern.

“Yes, I am afraid it is.”

She proceeded to tell him about the expiration of the leasehold and their inability to secure a new one.

“Oh, Diana, that is sad news. What is your family going to do?”

“I have discussed this with my father and the only possible idea we can come up with is to see if you might ask your father for a loan—for my family.” Adam was silent. “I know it is a lot to ask but we could secure the loan with the house and we would be willing to pay a generous interest.”

“Then why not go to a bank for that sort of loan.”

“My father has, but our request was denied.”

“I see,” he said.

“Might you be able to help? I cannot tell you how much we would appreciate any help you could offer.”

“Diana… I don’t think it would be fitting for me to go to my father with such a proposal unless…” He hesitated.

“Unless what?” she asked, but feared she knew the answer.

“Unless we were at least engaged,” he said giving her a quick sideways glance.

“Hmm. I thought you might suggest that.”

He stopped and turned her to face him. “And what do you say? Will you accept my hand in marriage?”

Diana bowed her head. Her mind racing with all the possible ways her family might find a solution to their problem without her having to accept Adam’s proposal. And her heart was beating rapidly as she tried to assess exactly what she felt for Adam.

Then she looked up at him and leaning her forehead against his chest softly said, “I will have an answer for you in a few days.”