could open his mouth to say so much as a half-syllable. It would probably be offensive, anyway. She hurried back in to the parlor, giving Emma a haggered smile. She could only hope that the every-Saturday trip of his to visit her (or try to) wouldn’t become anything any more frequent than that.
Of course, the frequency of these trips was inconsequential if he was as persistent every time as he usually was.
Jane slid back into her seat in the parlor. Emma glanced up from a squealing Mary and smiled at her; Jane thought it looked almost predatory.
"Who was that?"
She shrugged. "Oh, nothing. One of those silly new door-to-door vendors. They’re ever so irritating, in my opinion."
Emma raised an eyebrow. "Really? You seem awfully flustered for it to be nothing but a traveling salesperson. In my experience, these traveling salesmen are not fluster-worthy. And it’s still very rude to slam doors in peoples’ faces. You really must learn to behave yourself in a more becoming way, Jane."
Jane zoned out Emma with the most reliable knew and had somehow clambered through the shrubbery at the side of the house (probably squished the rosemary with feet like his) and found the parlor window directly behind Emma. Now, he was obviously attempting to garner her attention a most ridiculous way: making pleading faces and mouthing things that Jane, a decidedly un-proficient lip-reader, could not make out at all.
And it wasn’t as if she was feeling particularly desolate about not understanding her anything but romantic paramour. At the current moment Jane was studiously avoiding eye contact when Emma was looking at her, shooing him away when she wasn’t and smiling in a way that was hopefully benign at the children.
From the expressions of everyone involved, it wasn’t working. Gregory looked anything but shoo-ed away; indeed, he seemed more persistent than ever. Mary had begun to whimper at the faces Jane was making at her because of their pained, grotesque nature. Simon was off in faerie-land, but Emma, unfortunately, was firmly in the here-and-now and finally gave an irritated tsk.
"Jane, I am fairly certain that you are not listening to me at all. In fact, I must admit that I am fairly convinced by the way you are terrifying my poor daughter that you are thoroughly concerned with matters completely unrelated to what I’m currently talking about! Now, I'm not saying that you are specifically not listening to me in order to particularly scare my child, however, you must admit, that - eek! What was that?"
Of course, the frequency of these trips was inconsequential if he was as persistent every time as he usually was.
Jane slid back into her seat in the parlor. Emma glanced up from a squealing Mary and smiled at her; Jane thought it looked almost predatory.
"Who was that?"
She shrugged. "Oh, nothing. One of those silly new door-to-door vendors. They’re ever so irritating, in my opinion."
Emma raised an eyebrow. "Really? You seem awfully flustered for it to be nothing but a traveling salesperson. In my experience, these traveling salesmen are not fluster-worthy. And it’s still very rude to slam doors in peoples’ faces. You really must learn to behave yourself in a more becoming way, Jane."
Jane zoned out Emma with the most reliable knew and had somehow clambered through the shrubbery at the side of the house (probably squished the rosemary with feet like his) and found the parlor window directly behind Emma. Now, he was obviously attempting to garner her attention a most ridiculous way: making pleading faces and mouthing things that Jane, a decidedly un-proficient lip-reader, could not make out at all.
And it wasn’t as if she was feeling particularly desolate about not understanding her anything but romantic paramour. At the current moment Jane was studiously avoiding eye contact when Emma was looking at her, shooing him away when she wasn’t and smiling in a way that was hopefully benign at the children.
From the expressions of everyone involved, it wasn’t working. Gregory looked anything but shoo-ed away; indeed, he seemed more persistent than ever. Mary had begun to whimper at the faces Jane was making at her because of their pained, grotesque nature. Simon was off in faerie-land, but Emma, unfortunately, was firmly in the here-and-now and finally gave an irritated tsk.
"Jane, I am fairly certain that you are not listening to me at all. In fact, I must admit that I am fairly convinced by the way you are terrifying my poor daughter that you are thoroughly concerned with matters completely unrelated to what I’m currently talking about! Now, I'm not saying that you are specifically not listening to me in order to particularly scare my child, however, you must admit, that - eek! What was that?"
