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both eyebrows, but a cagey look lingered in his eyes.
    Theran didn’t have time to try to figure out what that meant. “Yes, I couldn’t wait around for the draft board. I like to be in the thick of things.”
    “Then your suit is most certainly out of the question,” Mrs. Kimball declared.
    “I won’t be gone long.” Theran turned to her. “The Germans are hanging on by their fingernails. A few sorties by fresh American troops and they’ll lay down their arms and surrender. Germany is nearly bankrupt.”
    “I honor you, young man.” Kimball used the same voice Theran had heard him use at yesterday’s speech. “Europeans will be no match for our doughboys.”
    “That is neither here nor there,” Mrs. Kimball snapped. “I’m sure you are a patriotic and even admirable young man, but my daughter will marry a gentleman—”
    “Mrs. Kimball—” Theran interrupted, but to no avail. The grande dame marched on.
    “The Carlyles, my family, have lived in this house for over two hundred years. Our ancestors arrived on the
Dove
, one of the first two ships to arrive in Maryland.” She lifted her voice and squared her slender shoulders. “We have connections to the peerage in England. Who are your parents, Mr. Black?”
    “My father owns a grocery store in Buffalo, New York.” Theran looked her directly in the eye. “He’s of Scottish descent. My parents don’t appear on any social register.”
    “A grocer?” Mrs. Kimball looked aghast.
    “It’s an honest way to make a living.” Theran was stung by her expression. “My father has a large library and is an intelligent man but circumstances prevented him from fulfilling his dream of a college education. I’m benefiting from his ambition and so will my sister. I am not now nor will I ever be ashamed of my parentage.”
    Mrs. Kimball frowned and glared at the same time. “No doubt, but Chloe has been to finishing school.”
    “Well, I won’t hold that against her.” Theran grinned. He couldn’t be too angry with Chloe’s mother. After all, his mother wouldn’t be thrilled to hear he’d fallen in love with a girl she’d never even met.
    Chloe smiled then, sparkling suddenly like a diamond catching the light.
    Mr. Kimball burst into dry laughter. “I always told you, Lily, you make too much out of pedigree. If you’d held yourself to the same ambition you have for Chloe to marry a gentleman”—Kimball’s tone taunted his wife—“you wouldn’t have married me. May I remind you that you had Ivy Manor, but I had money?”
    This exchange, as before, made Theran uncomfortable. He’d never heard his dad use that tone to his mother or anyone else.
I don’t like you, Kimball,
he thought suddenly.
    Her face rosy, Mrs. Kimball pursed her lips. Theran felt a little sorry for her, even if she was a snob. “Mr. and Mrs. Kimball, all I want is your permission to get to know Chloe. May I correspond with her?”
    “No.” Chloe’s mother raised her voice.
    “Yes, of course.” Mr. Kimball raised his louder. His wife averted her face. “There’s no harm in a few letters. You’ll be leavin’ for France soon and a patriotic American girl should give a soldier all the encouragement she can. I think I can reply for my Chloe that she’d be honored to receive your letters and write a few of her own.”
    Theran moved forward to shake Kimball’s hand.
Maybe he’s just an old blowhard after all.
Perhaps all politicians were like this. “May I take Miss Chloe for a short walk?”
    “Certainly, certainly.” Mr. Kimball waved them away.
    Mrs. Kimball scowled but said nothing, refusing even to look his way. He didn’t really care.
    Outside, Chloe walked silently beside Theran. She led him into the garden at the rear of the manse. High, blazing-yellow forsythia bushes shielded them from the windows. Red and yellow tulips edged flower beds and the sun warmed Theran’s back. The pastoral setting suited Chloe. She was as achingly lovely as she had been the