Two Loves

Chapter 2

ISAAC

As soon as we get out of the Hansom, Cym is beaming with excitement. Her eyes are glimmering and if she did not have her remarkable, almost military self-control, she would fidget.

She drags me over the lawn to the entrance of the luxurious house as if she could not await spending time with some dull lords and ladies.

I will never understand her.

It is not that I hate evening parties. Or people.

If I could spend some time alone with any of the guests, I might amuse them, or even start to like them. The main problem I have with this event is that there will be so many people at the same time.

And because dull old Lady Bracknell gave out the invitations, Cym, me and maybe that poor girl that should marry an adulter will be the youngest people. Everybody else will be about the age of tedious aunt Theodora.

I look down at my breast and sigh. Putting the green carnation in my button-hole was therefore a waste of time. Everyone will be too old or conservative to understand its meaning.

We reach the doorstep and Cym shows the servant our invitations. With a nod, he opens the door for us.

Even the entrance hall is huge, with an impressive chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Lady Bracknell is obviously in favour of a combination plenty of old and rich ladies seem to share - a lot of money and remarkably bad taste.

On the walls left and right, two paintings are hanging on the wall, both baroque so called 'art works', showing allegories of the virtues represented as arrogant-looking old virgins with judging looks and white wigs, accompanied by a ridiculous amount of chubby cherubs.

This is exactly how I imagined the house of this woman to look like. I just want to go home and throw myself face down on my bed.

But instead, I force a smile, give my scarf and overcoat to another servant and follow my sister to the next door that - finally - leads us to the salon.

The room is crowded with flickering candlelight from the chandeliers and dimmed by people chattering and laughing. Someone exclaims our names and Cyms smile seems to grow even brighter. She really cannot await to be part of this assembly of women in glimmering dresses and men in monochrome attire.

Bringing my sister into society is always like releasing a fish into water.

Of course she loathes and despises the attitudes and moral of almost everyone here; that's the reason why she can start conversations with them so easily.

She squeezes my arm - her way to give me a bit of encouragement - and smiles at me.

"Come on, Pygmalion. Everybody here admires you. I bet Lady Bracknell will show you around like a jewel she just received and all her friends will marvel at you as if you were one."

"Yes" I answer. "That is exactly what I am afraid of."

She rolls her eyes. "You are in the center of the attention for once. For Gods sake, enjoy it!"

Then she lets me go, grabs a champagne glass from a servants tablet and we both go our seperate, usual ways.

Cym dives into the room as if this was her party. By the end of the night, she will have found two ladies she can get interested into womens rights, will have quarrelled with at least one elder lord and make up uncountable paradoxons. I admire and hate her for her confidence.

I myself do what I always do at such events - I search the buffet.

As soon as I have a sandwich, I can search a quiet corner and look so exquisitely boring that no one will want me to talk.