“Hortensia,” said the old lady wearily, “I assume you invited me, at my great age, to an extraordinary conclave in order to hear my opinion. Isn’t that so?”
“Of course, my dear.”
“Absolutely, Lulu,” concurred Herminia cautiously. “It’s just that there can be so many ways of approaching a situation like this. I’m sure Hortensia and Emma had the best of intentions when—”
“Of course they did, Herminia. Don’t be silly. Nobody’s questioning that.” The tiny old lady straightened and fixed the librarian with a beady stare. “Pay attention, Miss Prim: you have before you a woman who’s buried three husbands. In my view, this gives me authority to speak on the matter, and from that standpoint I have to tell you that equality has nothing to do with marriage. The basis of a good marriage, a reasonably happy marriage—don’t delude yourself, there is no such thing as an entirely happy marriage—is, precisely, inequality. It’s essential if two people are to feel mutual admiration. Listen carefully to what I’m about to tell you. You must not aspire to finding a husband who’s your equal, but one who’s absolutely and completely better than you.”
Miss Prim was about to object, but the steely glint in the old lady’s eyes gave her pause. From her seat by the fire, Virginia Pille suppressed a smirk.
“Does that only apply to women,” asked Miss Prim, “or must men also marry women they admire?”
“Of course they must. They must seek women who, from one or several points of view, are better than them. If you look back over history you’ll see that most great men, the truly great ones, have always chosen admirable women.”
“But in that case admiration does not exclude equality, Mrs. Thiberville. If I admire my husband and my husband admires me, then we’re equal,” she retorted, elevating her nose a couple of degrees.
The old lady turned her head with difficulty and looked at Virginia, who smirked again.
“My dear Miss Prim, if you reflected a little more deeply you’d realize that you can only admire that which you do not possess. You do not admire in another a quality you have yourself, you admire what you don’t have and which you see shining in another in all its splendor. Do you follow me?”
“We follow you, Lulu,” said Herminia, and the other ladies nodded.
“Well, good. And this isn’t wisdom, it’s basic logic. If two people admire each other, they’re not equals. If they were, they wouldn’t admire each other. They’re different, as each admires in the other what they don’t find in themselves. It’s difference, not similarity, that fosters admiration between two people. Similarity has no place in a good marriage. Difference does. Claiming otherwise is pure foolishness, which is so prevalent nowadays and typical of people who haven’t been taught to reason.”
Miss Prim lowered her head, meekly accepting the scolding.
“In any case, Lulu,” Virginia’s adamantine voice filled the sitting room, “what Miss Prim wants is our view of her present situation with her employer and her attraction to him.”
“Do you admire him, child?” asked the old lady, suddenly less severe.
“In many ways I suppose I do, but in others I detest him deeply.”
“Ah, that’s no impediment, not in the least. I detested all my husbands intensely and it didn’t stop me loving all three very much.”
Herminia cleared her throat discreetly, and Miss Prim turned to her. Meanwhile Lulu leaned back in her armchair and closed her eyes.
“Prudencia,” said Herminia, “I’d like to say something. I’ve observed you more than once with your employer and I think it’s more than possible that the attraction is mutual. I truly believe it.”
Miss Prim slowly picked up a lemon biscuit and leaned forward as if the better to hear.
“Do you mean it?” she asked. “I know you and he are close friends.”
Lulu opened her eyes and coughed loudly. At this, her hostess rose quickly and fetched her a glass of water from the kitchen.
“We are, now. But years ago we were considerably more than friends,” said Herminia.
Miss Prim tensed, gritting her teeth.
“Oh!”
“It was a long time ago, of course. It’s all over now.”
“Oh!” she said again. And, making a huge effort to control her uneasiness, she asked: “What happened?”
Herminia drew her chair up to the fire and, after a pause, as if weighing each word, she began.
“I won’t go into the details of our relationship because it’s not relevant, but I think you should know why we parted. We spent a wonderful time together, but then the man I was in love with turned into the man you know now, and everything changed.”
“You left him?”
