"You will be strong - you will go out there, and you will face them all, because it was what your father would have expected of you."

Emily, watching this exchange from Trix to Richard, was robbed of delivering such an address - which, if in her own words, was sure to have as great an effect as it did now, on Richard, who nodded to his mother, and walked beside her out into the waiting mourners.

Emily, in walking out next, could scarce ignore that her place was at Richard's side, though she could not deny Trix her grief, if ever such an emotion could quell that woman.

Emily, who had only begun her growing dislike of Trix, turned at a tap on her shoulder and saw Marilyn.

"Oh, but Emily - such a tragedy - you do see how Lorelai bears up under all this - ah! And your husband - but I do say - you are holding up very well yourself."

This sentiment from Marilyn Emily could accept with well-bred acknowledgment; had it been delivered from Trix, her shoulders would instantly have stiffened.

"And, uh - " Marilyn glanced around, at the Hartford home which belonged now to Trix, if ever it had been considered Charles' even during their marriage, " - do you know, I happened to spy some book-ends that were particularly fetching - I was hoping to find their substitute in an estate sale I'm attending, er, outside of Hartford."

Emily, who was watching over Marilyn's shoulder at Richard who was bearing up well, and at Trix who dominated the conversation, returned to Marilyn at a remembrance of good manners, and her question, which was merely curious, sparked Marilyn's unease.

"Outside of Hartford, you say?"

"Er, yes," Marilyn nodded, fumbling with her pearls, not quite out of the trap yet though she was not a dullard to notice Emily's attention was all upon Richard and Trix, "A small place, I forget where it was - er, you know, a lovely small town - quite unheard of - I doubt you've ever been there - Scar's Hollow?"

"Oh, a lovely place," Emily replied at once, on autopilot, "Excuse me, Marilyn."

Marilyn, no more reliably informed as to the location of the book-ends, glanced around as she tapped the next mourner on the shoulder, and subsequently became Totsied.

Emily, whose initial attempts to stand by Richard's side had been rebuffed by Trix, now confined herself to performing that duty which she now begun earlier than expected.

Those who stood in Trix's home and mourned for Charles, Emily could only give the correct words and looks, and from a memory well served in the few years she had been Richard's wife and which she prized herself on, could she make those mourners feel as acknowledged as if this were any other business dinner, which she morbidly reflected on, this decidedly was not .

It was when it was to Trix's station to say goodbye to the mourners, that Emily had at last some time alone with Richard, as they watched the crowd file out the door with handkerchiefs and canes.

"My mother," began Richard, in a tone of gravity, quite forgetting in how he handled his grief that he was addressing his wife, and not one of the assembled gallery, "My mother is unwell."

"Well," cautioned Emily, for she had learned never to underestimate Trix, "I'm not surprised, you should call for the maid to bring her some tea - you know she'll only interrogate the maid as to who made such a request, and she can only fire one of you - or so the tale goes."

"What has got into you, Emily?" Richard turned, "I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologise - today of all days."

"I just - " Richard flexed his palms, "I feel so useless. I don't know where to begin. Will you help me?"

Emily softened. "Of course, Richard. Of course - "

"No, no - I meant with my mother."

"Oh - " Emily considered that , "Well, how could I refuse?"

Richard continued, "She must make an inventory of all her things, and you just know the maids will only be a panic - "

"An inventory? What on earth for?"

"Emily," said Richard, with all the emotion in his voice the cause of their current event must give rise to, "My mother is moving - permanently, mind you - to London."

Emily at once fled for the washroom. " - Richard, you must excuse me."

Marilyn, upon seeing Emily's departure, now saw cause to broach her inquiry with the likeliest of benefactors for the information she hoped to receive - aside from Trix, who she was careful to avoid.

"Rich-ard," Marilyn held tightly onto his hands, and espoused all that could only have a place on the stage, "And poor Emily! If I did not see her frighten just now, I would suppose she has some morning sickness."

Richard was roused from his reverie. "Surely - do you think so?"

Unconvinced, Marilyn nodded all the same, her beady eyes taking in the shelves and furniture. Yet by now, there was no way to bring up her chief purpose in conversation.

"Perhaps I'd better go check on her… "

Marilyn had no such opportunity to slip past the washroom and into the greater nooks of Trix's home; barred by one way from the shuffling of the maids, and seeing Trix's back in the archway of another, Marilyn caught Richard's eye and could only knock on the wash room and try the door knob which was unlocked.

"You'll forgive me, Emily - I have a great many friends who have been in this situation - "

Marilyn stared as Emily was doing a kind of jig, which the walls of Trix's washroom had never before been witness to. Emily, catching Marilyn's eye, flushed every shade that had not been present in the crowds of people wearing blank.

"Marilyn, ah - "

"I see ," said Marilyn, with a pointed glance, "You are not undergoing morning sickness - perhaps - perhaps some other ill of a most dreadful kind, to be sure."

Emily smoothed her dress, and raised her chin to Marilyn.

"You know ," began Emily, adopting a smile, "I do believe I can help find those book-ends, Marilyn."

Emily and Marilyn emerged from the washroom arm in arm, and headed for the basement.

"You know ," Marilyn cocked her head towards Emily, "There was a glass decanter which Charles gave Trix, but it was never really his, you see. There's been some awful mix up which I can only correct."

Emily smiled wider, and when Marilyn hugged Emily, they were now both Totsied.

Richard, left alone in the foyer and seeing those last few mourners out who could reliably make it to their car, turned to face Trix.

" Where is Emily ?"

"Oh, she's just excused herself for the moment," Richard replied genially, not wanting his composure to fail in the face of his mother, "I believe - I saw her with Marilyn."

"Awful woman."

Trix sniffed, and it was not in Richard to seek clarification, so he changed the topic.

"How are you ?"

Trix frowned as she glanced up at her son.

"You need never ask that of me ."

Trix glanced over, and caught Emily and Marilyn coming from the basement, and now heading to the kitchen. Richard, at this juncture, felt able to offer clarification.

"I've asked Emily to help you with the preparations for London," Richard puffed himself out, at a task he could delegate, feeling a little more himself as alike a superior at his firm, "She's very capable, I assure you."

Trix watched Emily and Marilyn come into view, and saw that Marilyn seemed to be walking oddly, and gesturing with folded arms and pointing, and turning on the spot ever so often, as she crossed from one hallway to the next, and all that was what Trix observed despite Emily walking beside Marilyn, blocking her from view.

"What an odd woman," Trix smiled, and glanced up to Richard, "I do so hope Emily will manage the inventory. How I would hate to find anything missing ."