Chapter summary: Nervousness. Bella deals with it in her horse and in herself as she visits the Hale invalid. Although initially distant at the thought of her Edward going to the Swan's for dinner, 'Lillian' becomes very excited at the thought of having Bella for dinner at the Hale's, instead. After the visit, Bella does some digging at the library, finding more surprises about the newcomers.

As I rode to the Hales, I decided I wasn't going to allow Dolly to lead me about. She was the horse, here; I was the one in charge. But then she still started and froze when the Hale house came into view, and no amount of prodding, nor coaxing, nor eventually cursing and application of the crop would get her moving again. So, I was in charge, but she wasn't budging.

I compromised: I dismounted and led her up the house. Leaders lead from the front, after all. Right? I sighed. That's Bella the Leader, who can't even get her horse to do what she wants her to do. As I tied her to a post by the front porch, I gently scolded her: "See, Dolly, you silly horse, nothing to be afraid of. It's just newcomers from Rochester. See?" But she was afraid, and it took not a little while to calm her enough to leave her.

I knocked on the door, which Mrs. Hale answered, but before we could even exchange a 'howdy' Dolly was rearing up and whinnying in fear. Mrs. Hale stared at Dolly, frozen by the door, her eyes widening, and she swallowed convulsively. Apparently there was plenty of fear to spread around today. I excused myself to calm Dolly, and Mrs. Hale told me to come in when I had settled things, quickly turning back into the house and shutting the door. Stupid horse, what a great way to spoil the start of a visit!

I calmed Dolly, again, and let myself into the house after a brief knock at the door. It turned out Dr. Hale had started work today. So Mrs. Hale and I do-si-doed about a polite period of hospitality before I would visit the invalid Rosalie, no: Lillian, Lillian! that is, Lillian. After exchanging comments about the weather, which was foul today, Mrs. Hale motioned me toward Lillian's room and walked with me to Lillian's door. Mrs. Hale announced me, quietly, like Edward did, and we stepped into her room. Two wooden chairs flanked the bed. They had prepared for visitors this time. I looked at the invalid. It was Rosalie. It had to be Rosalie. I moved to one of the chairs as casually as I could, all the time swearing I would go directly home — not to the courthouse — after this visit to dig up that wedding announcement to see this face regarding me here in the clipping.

Let's get on with the visit. After greeting "Lillian" and complimenting her improved looks — the circles had disappeared from under her eyes, which seemed themselves also brighter, and her face looked slightly less pallid — I decided to use this part of the visit for a bit of what I hoped to be innocuous digging. I addressed Mrs. Hale: "We're so glad to have a doctor in town now, but how could you every leave Rochester to come here, to the middle of nowhere? Don't you miss the convenience of the city?"

Lillian looked as if she was about to say something, but Mrs. Hale answered immediately: "I like it here. City life is much too constricting!" Lillian seemed to be mutter something to herself, but I couldn't catch it, and Mrs. Hale continued without a pause. "There's so much for us to do here, too. As a doctor, my husband can help a lot more here than back in Rochester."

"He'll absolutely be put to good use here," I assured her. "What did he do in Rochester, though? Isn't a doctor that is saving lives performing a vital service no matter where he is?" I found this topic a much easier line to follow than any concerning the topic lying on the bed in front of me.

"Well, yes, I quite agree," she responded easily, "that's why we came here. There are plenty of doctors in Rochester. My husband was teaching at the University of Rochester, and he was anxious to start practicing what he'd been teaching."

That sounded plausible enough. I wondered, idly, what he taught there. "Oh? What did he teach, anything special?"

"My husband would say everything about the human person is special," she smiled kindly at me, "and he felt that the best way to help the most people would be as a general practitioner. So he taught human physiology to pre-med students."

"Well, the world could always use more good doctors, so it was nice of Dr. Hale to be teaching, ... but I'm glad you all are here, now." Thinking of Edward, I was really glad they were here. Speaking of which: "Has Edward gone out with Dr. Hale as well?"

Lillian narrowed her eyes at me. Good! I thought to myself — not the narrowed eyes! — thinking of her as "Lillian", not "Rosalie", will make this conversation (any conversation) easier. It also is better to think of her without putting quotation marks around her name. It'd be just like me to slip up in my nervousness and call her "Rosalie" without even noticing it. That is: I wouldn't notice, but I bet they would. I was determined to be careful. I wasn't interested in finding out how they would react to that.

"Yes, as the house needs several extensive repairs, Edward is doing a bit of shopping. I do apologize, my dear, he really was looking forward to receiving you today, but perhaps he may call on you this evening?"

Evening, Noon, or whenever, Edward could visit anytime he'd like! I thought, and then echoed that thought to Mrs. Hale: "That would be nice; would he like to join Pa and me for supper?"

She smiled. "I'm sure Edward wouldn't dream of imposing on your family time at dinner, nor would he wish to add to your meal preparation work."

"Oh, it's no trouble at all, Mrs. Hale. You know as well as I do that preparing a meal for one takes about the same amount of work as preparing for ten. I was asking so as to know if I should set out another plate and add some servings: it's chicken cordon bleu tonight."

Lillian laughed. "Esme, isn't that sweet!" she exclaimed. "Bella has cooked our Edward a special meal!" Apparently, Her Highness had deigned to join the conversation.

But I didn't like the way she said our Edward, and the tone was light but distinctly mocking. Nothing I could call her out on, but everything that caused my blood to boil. I covered that by smiling at her quizzically, but Mrs. Hale answered me, shooting Lillian a glare first: "Actually, I do need to borrow Edward through supper today to take care of some household work."

Huh? Something wrong with my cooking? Did Edward not like chicken? Who couldn't like chicken cordon bleu? It kept the blood thick for these cold winter days. Maybe I should also mention the mashed potatoes and gravy?

Maybe it had nothing to to with food at all, and something to do with Lillian? The crease in my forehead probably gave away some measure of my concerns, because Mrs. Hale hastened to add: "He'll be sorry to miss your supper, as I'm sure Edward would love to have anything you prepare, but we are going away for the weekend, so we really must take care of some household things before we go."

"Oh! I understand." And then I hated myself for offering: "Then I don't mean to impose on you. If Edward has to stay to work here, I don't want him to feel obliged to visit us..."

"Oh, no, no! I don't think Edward would last the weekend without at least saying hello, Bella, dear. As opposed to feeling obliged, Edward recounts to us the pleasant conversations when he visits." She paused, considering.

I couldn't help but notice the hint of Lillian's downturned lips. I knew it was mean of me, but I couldn't help feeling a bit smug about that. They were practically brother and sister, and I wanted their relationship to stay that way. Picturing this girl in front of me, the personification of Diana on Earth, was a thought too terrible to contemplate: she could sweep away any man with one raised eyebrow. I did not wish to think of what would happen if she were to consider me a rival for Edward's affections. He would fall over himself the minute she set her cap at him.

Mrs. Hale continued: "Actually, he's always been far too serious, in my view, and it's nice to see him in a brighter mood these days. I believe you're exerting a good influence on him."

I didn't know how to process her last declaration, and wouldn't know how to respond appropriately, anyway. My day was brighter when he was around — even though most of his visits were after dusk, in point of fact — but I didn't see how I could brighten his. I mean, seriously! He was a walking library wing that drove an expensive sports car like he was born into the driver's seat. I simply had nothing useful to add to his conversational musings, and had problems leading my mare to a hitching post just today, nevermind attempting to match his driving skills. I didn't see anything in me that would merit Mrs. Hale's assessment.

So I blushed out a "thank you" for politeness' sake. "But I didn't mean to be discussing mundane things like the Swan's calendar now. Lillian, I do apologize: I must be boring you to tears."

Lillian smiled and sat up straighter in bed. "Bella, you are such a sweet little thing!" She actually leaned toward me a bit and inhaled, a dreamy look settling on her face. What? Did this compliment make me a Hershey Milk Chocolate Bar? I couldn't imagine how I could possibly smell sweet, however. The smell of "horseback-riding country girl's sweat" couldn't be all that appealing, could it? I couldn't imagine that. On the other hand, when she had leaned closer, I did get a whiff of her perfume. Honeysuckle and rose. How appropriate! Her scent matched her name. And it was simply intoxicating, like Edward's cologne, but different. And I didn't even like the smell of those perfumes when the ladies got all gussied up around Christmas and New Year's. No, it wasn't those cheap, strong perfumes that knocked you over. It was subtle, but effervescent ... compelling. I bet she had her Eau d'whatever imported right from gaie Paris!

I had nearly lost myself in her scent, but her voice brought me back to the here and now. "Being cooped up in this house has made my entire existence so miserably dull. I am sick unto death of reading dead words on dead pages by dead people — if I read or hear one more Shakespeare sonnet, I'll scream!"

Here I couldn't help but laugh out loud with shock. Her outburst contrasted so sharply with my all-to-recent experience with said sonnets that I couldn't imagine how she could even form the thought. I guess Edward had been reading out to her in her convalescence, but her reaction was more in line with Pa's that with mine. Fine, I'll occupy his reading time if you don't need it.

She paused for me to recover myself and gave me a knowing look, rolling her eyes, and said with a smile: "Oh, he's subjected you to that torture as well? That Edward and his recitations!" Then she continued: "But look at you! Here you come, right into my room, and so vibrantly alive! I haven't been so entertained in ages! I don't care what subject you choose to talk about: I love listening to your day-to-day affairs and how you manage them. Your cares and concerns are so wonderfully human!"

As opposed to what? I wondered.

I realized this is the most I've ever had from Lillian: the most words and the most feeling. But I couldn't tell the intent. Was she being sincere or sarcastic? But she was on a roll now, it seemed, and was nearly vibrating with excitement as the words continued to flow.

"Esme!" she exclaimed, "I've just had the greatest idea in the world!"

Esme, that is, Mrs. Hale, looked at her ward more with caution than with enthusiasm. "Lillian, dear, calm yourself. Your recovery ..."

"Yes, yes, yes! My recovery!" Lillian snorted, dismissing that with a regal and swift wave of her hand. "My idea, since you couldn't wait to ask, dearest Esme, is this: since Edward cannot have dinner at the Swan's with Bella, let's have Bella for dinner here! Isn't that perfect?"

Mrs. Hale looked nonplussed.

"Well, that's very kind of you to invite me, Lillian, and I'd love to come, ..." I started, but was cut off by Lillian, whose eyes glowed with delight.

"Do you hear that, Esme?" Lillian beamed with delight, "Bella'd love that! ... and I would, too! Bella, you'd be so welcome here for dinner; please do come! Anytime!"

This house wasn't wired for electricity, but Lillian surely was.

"Well, the thing is, I kind of take care of supper for my pa, and ..."

"Oh! We'd take care of him, too! Like you said, once dinner gets going, one or ten are all the same amount of work, right? Right, Esme? No problem for us whatsoever!" Lillian's unabashed smile was beautiful and terrifying, all at the same time.

I had a flash of realization: Lillian and Edward were everything that I was not. They were perfect; I, plain. They were commanding; I, compliant. They were ... but while I was in the midst of this epiphany, Mrs. Hale asserted herself as the lady of the house.

"Lillian! That's quite enough!" Lillian's excitement froze on her face in shock. "You have excited yourself too much today. You need to rest, ... right now!" With that, Lillian's excitement imploded into a sullen sulk. Mrs. Hale stood and turned to address me. "Bella, shall we?" as she moved to the door. After greeting Lillian, and Lillian practically begging me to visit again soon, albeit in a much more muted tone, I followed Mrs. Hale out of the room. She closed the door quietly, yet firmly, behind us, and apologized: "We love having you over, but the house is not in any condition to host a dinner party just yet ... Lillian's idea is a good one, although premature. We'll host something once the house is presentable." Here Mrs. Hale nodded to the signs of construction and destruction circumscribing the new music room and the exposed framework.

Now that I was outside Miss Tornado's room, I found that I could think a bit more evenly. "Of course, Mrs. Hale, and how kind. I entirely understand. Thank you for letting me visit you and Lillian today, and I'm sorry to have imposed."

"No imposition at all, my dear; we're always happy to have you over." Mrs. Hale smiled warmly at me, meaning it.

I fully intended use this open invitation. But first I had to do some more thinking and checking, so I said my goodbyes to Mrs. Hale, and she saw me to the door, let me out, and quickly closed the door behind me. There was a chill in the air, so I could understand her avoiding the cold of the outdoors.

Dolly was still tied to the hitching post. Will miracles never cease? But she was still a bit nervous. "It's okay, Dolly," I cooed as a rubbed her neck and mounted. "It's not like they're going to eat you, or anything!" Dolly grew happier the further we got from the Hale's residence and broke into an unbidden trot. I directed her toward home.

When we got there, I ran into the house and pulled the folder of articles from under my bed, flipping it open when nervous hands.

Yes, no mistaking it: the girl at the Hale house was Rosalie.

The chill I felt was from more than the ride in the winter air. I thought for a while, lying in my bed, looking at Lillian/Rosalie in the clipping. Dolly was still saddled; I rode her to the library.

I dug into the college materials and literature. There was no Dr. Carlisle Hale on the faculty at the University of Rochester. I made sure: I looked three times through the medical faculty staff rolls. Then I read every name of the whole University faculty and staff. No Dr. Hale. I looked up pre-med. The teacher for Human Physiology had been a Dr. C. Cullen. "C" as in "Carlisle"? Or, "C" as in "I'm going Crazy"? I looked around the library surreptitiously and ripped out the page from the prospectus as quietly as I could. I felt just like that heroine Nancy Drew the girls in town twittered over. Perhaps I could join the newly formed club? I could sign up for the rôle of secretary, so I wouldn't have to participate, as I'd be taking notes, and such.

By the time I finally made it to the courthouse, it was time to close up shop. I felt sick with the thought of having to face Edward tonight, playing the part of a polite hostess, suspecting what I suspected. Knowing what I know. Actually, I was sick: Pa looked at me worriedly as we rode home. The horses were walking only, but I don't know how I stayed in the saddle. In the barn, my hands didn't work on the saddle knot, they were shaking that hard. Pa sent me inside. I couldn't fix Pa his promised chicken cordon bleu, which he loved, and that made me feel even worse. When Pa came in, he practically strong-armed me into bed which I collapse into, thanking God Almighty that I had somehow remembered to conceal the clipping under the mattress when I left the house earlier. There was no way I could even dream about sleeping — ha-ha.

But somehow I heard from a great distance Pa shooing Edward away at the front door as exhaustion claimed me.