One could see at once that the Keep residence (the Bliss residence) had been newly painted and the windows freshly glazed. I passed through a gate and approached a large paneled door. A manservant opened it. I stated my business. He asked me to wait in a parlor.
Despite my nerves, I could not help but notice that the parlor was in considerable disarray. All about the room were ladders and drop cloths and putty knives and paintbrushes laid out upon newspaper; the smell of turpentine was much in evidence. It seemed obvious that Josip Keep, having taken up residence as the largest creditor of the Bliss estate, was now making repairs that the late Mrs. Bliss had been unable to afford in her declining years.
I heard footsteps on the stairs and turned.
“Professor Van Tassel, you surprise me very much,” Etna said.
She had on an extraordinary dress of navy and cream that set off the color of her hair in a marvelous way and seemed to give it hues I had not noticed before. Her eyes, above her pronounced cheekbones, appeared wary. I had interrupted her in the act of fashioning her hair, for I saw that loops and curls were suspended from a knot at the back of her head, the sight of which stirred me greatly, for I had never seen her with her hair down.
“I could not stay away,” I said at once. “I must speak to you.”
She did not seem precisely alarmed to see me, but neither did she appear pleased. It was difficult for me to determine exactly how my arrival was being received.
“We are shortly to leave for church,” she said.
“I don’t have much time,” I said. “I must be back at Thrupp for my classes tomorrow afternoon.”
“You are well?” she asked.
“As well as can be expected.”
“Why have you come?”
“You must know why I have come.”
From the hallway, behind Etna, I could hear rustling on the stairs. I saw her stiffen at the certain interruption.
A diminutive woman entered the room, and Etna turned politely.
“Etna, you have a guest,” the woman said with some surprise. And then added, “Your hair is not done.”
“Miriam,” said Etna, “this is Professor Nicholas Van Tassel. He has come from Thrupp. Professor Van Tassel, this is my sister, Miriam Keep.”
It seemed scarcely possible that the two women before me could be related. Where one was dark, the other was fair; while one was tall, the other was petite and delicate in her look; while one had arresting features, the other was truly beautiful in a more conventional manner: that is to say, she possessed the nearly perfect beauty of wide green eyes, naturally pink lips, and skin so luminous it seemed to have the sheen of marble. She held herself with the bearing of a woman who had used her beauty to advantage, and I surmised immediately that it had been her comeliness that had secured for her a rich husband. It would be interesting, I thought, to see if the man was worth so dear a sum.
“So you have come a distance,” Miriam said, taking a step farther into the room.
“Yes,” I answered.
“To pay a call on Etna, or are you engaged in business here?”
“My business is with Etna,” I said.
“Your timing is unfortunate. We are just on our way to services.”
“Yes, forgive me. I did not think,” said I (who had done nothing but think).
“Etna,” said Miriam, surveying Etnas’s coiffure. “Josip will not want to be kept waiting, not for church, which, as you know, begins promptly at ten o’clock.” I winced to hear Etna spoken to in this manner.
“Miriam,” said Etna, “would you be kind enough to entertain my guest while I go upstairs for a moment? I shall be right back.” I understood this as my cue to leave, but I could not. Etna left us — whether gratefully or in a state of confusion I did not know.
“So, Professor Van Tassel,” Miriam said, seating herself on the only uncovered chair in the room, “what brings you to our house so early on a Sunday morning?”
I heard in the question another mild rebuke for having disturbed a family on their day of religious worship.
“I have something of importance I must discuss with Etna,” I said plainly.
“Is that so?” she said, bestowing upon me a cool glance. I had the distinct sense of being in the presence of a diamond even as I preferred the golden glow of the lesser jewel, the topaz.
“I’ll not pry,” she said, though I could see that she dearly wanted to. “Unfortunately, I fear the Reverend Young will not wait upon our arrival at services. As for myself, I confess I could easily forgo the man’s dusty sermons, but my husband has a keen sense of piety and religious obligation. And though he has many excellent qualities, he is often impatient with tardiness.”