Page 127 of The Sisters of Sea View
Emily smiled at her sister, thankful for the renewed warmth between them.
Jessie knocked on the library door and showed in Tom Cordey.
Emily had not heard the front door knocker. Coming to the main entrance would have been quicker, and Emily wondered if Tom chose the back door—used by servants and tradesmen—because he saw himself that way, or because he believed it a neighbor’s privilege to stop by casually.
Then again, seeing Jessie’s blushing cheeks and shining eyes, maybe there was another reason he began his visits belowstairs.
“Good day, Tom,” she said, rising.
He nodded. “Miss Emily, Miss Viola.”
“Thank you again for coming to our aid the other day.”
“No bother.”
She gestured him inside. “Come in, come in.”
He stepped into the room with a few small pieces of wood in his hands.
“Thought I ought to show you two signs before I make the others. See which you like better.”
Viola sent her a questioning look that Emily interpreted as,Shall I go?But Emily wanted her to stay.
“Viola, come and give your opinion too.”
Tom set the four-by-eight pieces of polished wood on the top of the desk, and the sisters gathered around to study them. One was rectangular with beveled edges, while the other had rounded corners.
Both examples were carved with the name of one of their rooms, the letters darkened with stain for legibility.
And both were spelled wrong.
Emily stood there, awkwardness turning her stomach. She did not want to offend this good man, this neighbor, but nor could they hang a misspelled sign on their door.
Viola sent her another nervous glance, waiting for her to respond first, to take the lead.
Emily pressed her lips together, then began, “I really like the beveled edges, don’t you, Vi?”
“I do, yes.”
“Well done, Tom. This is even finer than I imagined.”
“Glad you like it.”
“One ... minor thing.” She pointed to the word,Berch.
He said, “You said I could leave off the silver, if it was too long.”
“Yes, that’s not a problem. But just so you know, birch is spelled with ani.”
His face stiffened and his tanned neck grew red.
“Everyone spells things differently,” she hurried to reassure him. “It was no doubt my fault. You were working from the list I wrote, and my handwriting is not all it should be.”
Viola added helpfully, “That’s true. It’s abominable.”
She wrinkled her nose at her sister. “Thank you for noticing.” Actually, Emily’s hand was as good as her spelling, but she would say almost anything to remove the mortified look from his face.
Tom rubbed the back of his neck. “Told you I were better at fishin’ and carvin’ than spellin’.”
