“The symbols intrigued him. He took out a book from the library, but what he’s learned so far is the Greek alphabet.”
Roen chuckled. “Many of those letters are used as mathematical symbols. He’s making a good beginning. I had no idea.” He sat back in his chair. “Does he get his aptitude for math from his father?” The question was hardly out of his mouth when he saw Lily bristle. Before he could correct what he now realized was a mistake, she was making sure he knew he was wrong.
“Why do you assume that?”
The way her delicate chin jutted forward, Roen knew she was daring him to lie to her. He didn’t. “There was only one woman in my applied mathematics class at the Institute and only a handful in the general student population.”
“So you take those impoverished numbers as evidence that women do not possess the aptitude for mathematics when it is more likely that what they lack is opportunity.”
“I won’t make that error in judgment again.” He paused a beat, and because he couldn’t seem to help himself, he added on a dry note, “Not in your presence at any rate.”
One corner of Lily’s mouth lifted in a scornful smile. “Did you mean for me to hear that?”
“I suppose I did, since I said it.”
“Are you reckoned to be a wit back in New York?” she asked pointedly. “Or a half-wit?”
“The latter,” he said without hesitation. “I accept it.”
The other corner of Lily’s mouth tilted upward, and scorn was no longer there in the shape of her lips.
“You ought not to look amused,” he said. “I am not to be encouraged. Everyone in my family says so.”
“Indeed, you are not.”
Roen watched her primly set her lips. It should have put him off, but the effect of that butter-wouldn’t-melt mouth was incongruent with the gleam in her eye. He preferred to study the gleam and, for once, ignore her mouth.
“It’s you, then, who has a head for figures,” he said.
“Yes. And little opportunity to advance my learning.” She said this without heat or bitterness. It was merely a statement of fact.
“And if you had the opportunity?”
Lily shook her head and waved the question aside without answering.
“Mrs. Salt?” he asked. “If you had the opportunity?”
“I save my dreams for my children,” she said quietly. “I have lots of reasons to hope there.”
Roen guessed she was already regretting saying as much as she did because her eyes slid sideways and she stirred uncomfortably in the rocker. Fearing she would put him out before the matter of Clay’s job was settled, he did not press the question again.
To that end, he asked, “Do I have your permission to propose the job to Clay?”
“I’d like some time to think it over.”
At least she was not saying no out of hand. Roen took that as a very good sign. “How much time do you need?”
“I’ll send a note round to your house tomorrow. There’s no call for you to come here.”
He was disappointed, but upon reflection he realized he should have expected that she would not invite him back. “Of course. If you agree, where should I discuss this with Clay?”
“If I agree, Mr. Shepard, I’ll send Clay with the note. If not, it will be Hannah at your door.”
So either way, he could anticipate a visit before the headmaster rang the school bell. “Very good,” he said. He swept his hat off the table and started to rise.
“Another moment, if you will,” said Lily.
Roen sat.
