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Snowley was grinning as he described her. “As for your freckles, they are adorable.”
    “My sister would say I am flippant, frivolous and fractious.” Cordelia waited for her sister to disagree, but an objection never came. “And I will have to disagree with you, Mr. Snowley, as my freckles are anything but fetching. They ruin a perfectly good complexion.”
    “And I will have to disagree with you , Miss Waverly,” Alexander echoed her sentiment. “Your freckles are irresistible!”
    “You spoil me with compliments.”
    “Every woman should be spoiled with compliments, provided they are worthy of them,” Mr. Snowley said. “And you are most certainly worthy.”
    Hester was rescued from her growing feelings of envy by the arrival of a second guest. He did not come with flowers, but Cecil Hargrave looked every bit as handsome as the gentleman who came before him—in Hester’s eyes, anyway. A very tall man, Mr. Hargrave had to stoop to enter the room. His once-unkempt hair had been brought to order, and his wide shoulders displayed his tan greatcoat to perfection.
    After seeing both gentlemen, Frank groaned into the palm of his hand. He assumed Mr. Hargrave was a second suitor of Cordelia, and was a bit surprised when he addressed the older Miss Waverly.
    “Good day, Miss Waverly,” the older gentleman said. “I hope I find you in good health?”
    “Quite good. I am pleasantly surprised to see you again so soon,” Hester said. Nearby, her sister and Mr. Snowley were engaged in their own conversation.
    “Is it too soon?”
    “Not at all. You are always welcome.”
    Frank, who had been excluded from both conversations, was now clenching both of his fists until he was white-knuckled and shaking. Frank eyed his walking sticks and considered making an angry exit, but he knew his flight from the room would only attract attention, pity and sympathy. He closed his eyes and listened to parts of both conversations.
    “Your hair looks beautiful in the light,” Mr. Snowley said to Cordelia, “it is as if there is fire in it!”
    “I have been thinking of you since the moment we parted ways,” Mr. Hargrave confessed to Hester. “I hope it is not too forward of me to say that?”
    Now that they were getting attention from other men, Frank knew he would be shunned. The arrival of the sisters secretly made him so elated. Their presence gave him purpose. Was he foolish to think they would actually care to spend time with him? The arrival of the other gentlemen made Frank realize what a fool he had been. Hester and Cordelia had better ways to spend their time, and more worthy men to see. They would forget all about him.
    When Mr. Hargrave suggested a turn around the garden, Frank breathed a sigh of relief. He wanted them— all of them—out of his sight.
    “Frank,” it was Cordelia who addressed him, “Hester and I are to go for a walk in the garden with these gentlemen. Would you care to join us?”
    Frank shook his head and stayed silent, praying that no one would mention his affliction. Being unable to walk without assistance was not something that filled him with pride.
    “Very well. I shall find you later and think of some way to improve your mood. You have been sulking all day,” Cordelia accused him. Then she took Mr. Snowley by the arm and headed out to the garden, followed by Hester and her beau. As they stepped outside, Cordelia said, “My aunt’s garden is small, but rather pleasant. The hydrangeas are particularly lovely.”
    “I confess I have no idea what a hydrangea looks like,” Mr. Hargrave whispered to Hester. “I suspect Mr. Snowley is thinking the same thing, but he is not brave enough to say it.”
    “Mr. Snowley brought her a gift of flowers,” Hester quietly replied, “He cannot confess an ignorance of them now, or his gift would seem disingenuous.”
    “Every man is at least somewhat ignorant of flowers,” Mr. Hargrave claimed. “Beyond a rose, I could not tell you what any of