I'll give you a star...

Decency and respectability

The basic law of bourgeois society is to observe external decency.

London, British Empire
1815

It was a warm August day. A light breeze, playing among the emerald branches of trees, created a ringing sound of foliage in a city park in central London.

Young girls strolled along ornate paths among green flower beds and equally trimmed bushes, hiding from the sun's rays under openwork umbrellas, married couples, decorously pacing under the strict gazes of ladies of advanced age, the same, simpering folded their hands, hidden under the finest lace, conducted conversations in the shade of tall chestnuts.

It was noticeable that the walkers received sincere pleasure from the beautiful weather as if catching the last breath of summer, filled with a pleasant aroma of flowers.

Although, admittedly, it was more like a joke of the mistress of Nature, rather than her desire to please Londoners before the autumn melancholy of the upcoming long gloomy days under a low leaden sky filled with sad rains and dank northern winds.

But it won't be for a few weeks.Today, residents of London enjoyed the gentle charm of the surrounding landscapes and green arches uniting colorful flower beds into a single ensemble, in the center of which a fountain sparkled under the cheerful noise of falling water in the rays of the already tired sun. The elegant decoration of the park, surrounded by benches and slender elm trees, was a favorite place for young people seeking solitude for girlish heart secrets.

Two girls were sitting on one of these benches near the fountain. They talked quietly, fanning themselves with silk fans and occasionally hiding embarrassed smiles. A neat, but already well-read, brown-bound volume lay between them, like a mute participant in a conversation. Girlfriends, casting cursory glances at him, continued to share their impressions of the novel they had read, recalling interesting episodes and favorite characters.

"Clementine, why do you think that "Feeling and Sensitivity" is the perfect title for this novel?" the blonde girl asked, not hiding her disappointment. She adjusted the delicate yellow bow of her hat, fashionably tied under her chin, and looked at her friend.

"Charlotte, would you choose another name?"

The girl blushed, but immediately answered, "if I were an author, I would prefer something concise," making a light swing with a fan, she thought.

"And what is it?" Clementine, taking the book, opened it to the first page she came across and prettily tilted her head to one side, pretending to be focused on reading.

"The Dashwood Sisters", for example," Charlotte immediately took the volume from her friend's hands and returned it to the bench again.

"And everything would have become obvious to us, the readers," the sigh sounded doomed, but the sly smile that followed it testified that Clementine did not want to give up before the pressure of her friend, and the discussion of the novel was still far from over.

"I don't agree with you,"  she persisted.

The girls giggled fervently as if remembering a secret they knew. Black eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings, giving their looks a coquetry.

"This isn't a detective story," Charlotte said suddenly in a serious tone.

"I dare say that for the first novel you need a title that will attract readers," Clementine smiled and continued, "but the plot..."

But she didn't have time to finish her sentence when she was interrupted by a soft cough that attracted attention.

"Excuse me, lady."