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today, she’ll be disappointed. She’s always at the hospital on Monday afternoons.” He nodded, hesitating for a moment, looking pensively into space, and then back at Consuelo with a surprisingly intent look.
    “I actually didn’t come to see Annabelle today. I came to see you, on a matter of business that I wanted to discuss with you privately.” He looked proper and businesslike as he said it, as though he were on a mission from the bank.
    “Something about Arthur’s estate? Can’t you handle that with the lawyers, Josiah? You know how bad I am at all that. Arthur handled everything. It’s all a mystery to me.”
    “No, no, everything is fine. The bank is handling it with the attorneys, and everything’s in order. This is a more private matter, and perhaps I’m premature, but I wanted to discuss it with you, and I’m hoping you’ll be discreet.” She couldn’t begin to imagine what it was as she listened to him, nor why Annabelle shouldn’t be around. For a fraction of an instant, she worried that Annabelle had been right months before, and that he was paying court to her. She hoped not. She liked him enormously, but if he had any romantic interest in her whatsoever, Consuelo was going to decline. She had no leanings in his direction, nor toward anyone else. As far as Consuelo was concerned, that chapter of her life was closed.
    “I wanted to talk to you about Annabelle,” he said clearly, so that neither of them would be confused. He realized that he was much closer to Consuelo’s age than her daughter’s, but he felt no romantic spark toward Consuelo, only respect, admiration, and warm friendship. The Worthingtons had been extremely hospitable to him since Arthur’s death, and he had greatly enjoyed spending time with them. “I know you’re both in deep mourning for another six months, and that you’re concerned about her. It is a shame that she has missed this whole year since her debut, and all the opportunities that would afford. At first I thought I should say nothing to you, whatever my feelings. She’s extremely young, and I sincerely believed that she would be happiest with someone her own age. To be honest, I no longer think that’s true.
    “Annabelle is a very unusual young woman in many ways, intelligent, intellectual, thirsty for knowledge, and mature beyond her years. I have no idea how you would feel about it, but I would like your permission, when your period of mourning is over, to ask for her hand in marriage, and see how she feels. If you and I remain discreet about it, and keep this to ourselves, it will give her another six months to get accustomed to me. If you agree, I would plan to continue visiting you both often. But I wanted your permission first.” Consuelo sat there staring at him. In her eyes, he was an answer to her prayers and a dream come true. She had been desperately worried about life passing Annabelle by during this year, and afraid she might wind up an old maid. And although he was nineteen years older, Consuelo thought Josiah was perfect for Annabelle.
    Josiah was from an excellent family, well educated, exquisitely polite, charming, handsome, and had a very good job at Annabelle’s father’s bank. And from what she had seen, particularly over the summer, the two were becoming good friends, which Consuelo felt was a far more solid base for marriage than some starry-eyed girlish romance, which wouldn’t last anyway. This was the way she and Arthur had started out. He had been a friend of her family’s, had asked her father’s permission to court her, and they had always been friends as much as husband and wife. She couldn’t have thought of a better match for her daughter, and like Josiah, she thought Annabelle would do well with an older, more mature man. “I hope you’re not shocked, or angry,” he added cautiously, as Consuelo leaned over and gave him a motherly hug.
    “No, how could I be? I’m delighted. I think you and Annabelle would be