seventh impression: confusion
"You're leading both men on," Mary Taft frowned at her daughter through the mirror's reflection as she helped her into an evening gown.
But Elizabeth disagreed. "I am friends with both of them, Mother."
"Ladies do not have gentleman friends." Elizabeth gasped as Mary tightened the corset. "They have suitors." Mary eyed her daughter critically. "You do have a preference?"
It was another deciding moment, one more attempt to bridge the understanding between them. They used to be so close.
But as Elizabeth stared into the mirror, she began to wonder with growing horror whether or not she still did.
