2
Once Emily knew of Maudeline, it was all she could think about. All night she wondered. The Wadleighs hadn't mentioned her, so she was a complete mystery. What did she look like? Was she kind? Did she know how to dance or speak French or paint? Did she enjoy hopscotch or chess? Tucked up in bed that night, Emily stared at the ceiling, visions of her next-door-neighbor drifting before her mind's eye. When she went next door to call, she would wear her blue dress, the grown-up looking one. It always paid to make a good first impression. Mother had always said so.
Emily felt the pang of a tired grief. She wished she could tell Mother all about the girl next door, and how much she longed to meet her. Maudeline must have arrived by now. It was bedtime. Perhaps Maudeline was tucked up in her own bed, thinking about receiving calls the next day. The thought made Emily smile, and she drifted off to sleep.
"Maudeline is out, dear," said Mrs. Wadleigh, ushering a disappointed Emily into the drawing room the next day. It might have been Emily's imagination, but something seemed funny about Mrs. Wadleigh's tone when she said it. Emily was about to inquire, but her hostess preempted her by offering tea and cake.
A quite charming visit, Emily thought when it was done, and she was going down the Wadleighs' front stairs. But it was like visiting her mother's friends had been back home. Cake, talk of the weather, compliments on dresses and bonnets. Emily wanted something a bit...more than that. Something fun. The kind of fun she used to have with her gaggle of girlfriends in her hometown. If this was what being a lady in society was like all the time, Emily almost thought playing piano and singing to herself was better.
The clip-clop of hooves on the cobblestones made her look up. A fine handsome black horse was coming down the narrow street at a stately pace. Emily, who loved animals, wished she could stroke that handsome coat, pet the soft nose, maybe feed it some sugar. It had been so long since she'd petted a horse. Her gaze moved up to the rider. It was a young woman, perhaps in her early twenties, clad in a brilliantly tailored black riding habit. Beneath her black hat her face was angular and she had a very big chin. She was...stately. Yes, that was the word that came to mind. She rode past Emily there on the curb, offering her only the briefest of looks. Emily openly stared.
"Maudeline!" she said to herself, watching as the horse and rider disappeared around the corner to where Emily figured the Wadleigh's carriage house was. Emily put her fingers to her lips. It had to be her! Emily hadn't been expecting someone so very grown-up and elegant. And riding! Perhaps she would teach Emily to ride. She hadn't known she'd always wanted to learn until just this very moment.
Expectant, Emily hung about at the bottom of the steps for a little while. She had hoped that Maudeline would walk past to go back inside, and then Emily could introduce herself and offer her card. Emily patted her thin little drawstring bag, and then peeped inside. She'd forgotten her cards. Oh well.
Eventually Emily realized that Maudeline had used the back entrance to the house, and wouldn't be by again. Only a little disappointed, Emily made her way back to her own house. Her mood and determination were both bolstered by the knowledge that Maudeline was just next door. Why, a meeting could happen anytime!
From that day on, Emily made a habit of spying on her neighbor—what else was there to watch from her window, after all? Besides, it was research. Best to learn all she could about Maudeline, the young woman who lived next door. If only, Emily thought wistfully, Maudeline could be induced to show interest in her.
At least three days a week Maudeline went out for a ride on her horse. Just like that first day. She cut quite the figure. Her expression, from what Emily could see, was usually an impeccably noble sort of grimace. It made Emily wonder what Maudeline would look like if she smiled. Other times Maudeline went for walks, always well-dressed in hooped skirts and dresses in flatteringly dark colors. She never walked for long, though, and was always accompanied by the maid.
Sometimes Emily would hear piano music from next door, most often just after lunch, after the Wadleighs had left for their daily walk. It was a little routine. Emily would be at the front window watering her potted fern. The captain and his wife would walk past, and Emily would smile at how they walked arm in arm. And then, the music. Back at home nearly every house had a piano, and on breezy afternoons music could be heard from all directions. Not so here. So it pleased Emily very much whenever she heard faint strains of waltzes and sometimes sonatas coming through the parlor window. Maudeline could play the piano! She became more completely interesting by the day, never mind that Emily hadn't spoken to her once.
Most fascinating of all was the one caller Maudeline seemed to receive. He was tall and trim with a little beard, and he looked just the way Emily's German master had back at school. Yes, Emily nodded to herself. He has the look of a professor. Or a German. He usually carried a satchel which Emily assumed contained music. After he arrived, every time, all through the late afternoons, different music would come from next door. Duets. Passionate ones.
Emily was intrigued. She simply had to visit, to catch Maudeline at home. But however would she manage it? Who would ever have thought making a friend could be so very complicated?