Sally silently shook her head no.
“And what is your age?”
“Five and twenty.”
He glanced at Katherine. “Between five and twenty and five and thirty is the best age, wherein women are most temperate, healthful, and strong.”
Katherine nodded her understanding and he continued. “And your child’s age?”
“A half year.”
“Good. If her child be above seven or eight months old, then her milk will be too stale. It would also call into question whether she would have milk enough to nurse your son.”
Katherine again nodded, and Hugh Palmer continued, walking around Sally and eyeing her as one would a gown in a dress shop.
“She is a little tall perhaps. Not too fat nor too lean, however. Arms good and fleshly ...” He suddenly reached out and pinched Sally’s arm, and she gasped.
“... and firm.”
He returned his gaze to the book. “‘She must have a pleasing countenance, a bright and clear eye, a well-formed nose, a ruddy mouth, and very white teeth.’” He paused before Sally. “Open your mouth, if you please. Now smile. White, yes, but not very straight.”
He read on. “‘Her hair should be between yellow and black, ideally a chestnut color. But she especially should not have red hair.’”
Sally self-consciously touched her golden hair, pinned up in a classic twist by Charlotte herself.
“‘She must deliver her words well, and distinctly, without stammering.’ Please tell us something about yourself.”
Taking a breath and swallowing hard, Sally began in careful, practiced tones, “My name is Miss Sally Mitchell. I am five and twenty years of age ...”
From behind the door, Charlotte held her breath. Sally had already told her age. Charlotte hoped they wouldn’t find it odd that she was repeating it.
“I have one child. His name is Dickie. He’s a rascal but I loves him.”
Oh dear.She was extemporizing now.
Sally, apparently seeing the fine lady frown, returned to the rote speech Charlotte had prepared for her.
“My son is a half-year old and is in the care of my dear sister ...”
“Thank you. Moving on ...”
But Sally wasn’t finished yet. “Leaving me free to seek employment as a nurse.”
“As we see. Thank you.” The haughty man returned his focus to the book. “‘She must have a strong and big neck, for thereby, as Hippocrates said, may one judge the strength of the body.’”
Sally swallowed as three pairs of eyes studied her neck. She lifted her chin higher as though to accommodate them.
“‘She must have a broad and large breast... .’”
His gaze lowered and Sally’s strong neck turned bright red.
Katherine dipped her head, touching gloved fingers to her temple, her lowered hat brim no doubt concealing her face. Charlotte noticed that Mr. Harris had the good grace to turn his face away. He cleared his throat. Mr. Palmer looked up, oblivious to their discomfiture.
Mr. Harris said, “We shall leave it to you to examine, um, that aspect of her nature. We need not hear those particulars.”
“Ah ... yes. Very well.” Palmer moved on to the next page.
“‘She ought to be of a good behavior, sober, and not given to drinking, or gluttony, mild, without being angry or fretful: for there is nothing that sooner corrupts the blood, of which the milk is made, than choler or sadness.’”
