A Banter

              London 1842



         “Greg.” The giggle came from a smiling mouth below gleaming eyes. “Stop it. You’ll get us both in trouble.” The girl tried to get the hands of the gentleman off of her though they both knew the struggle was not intended as anything more than a joke.

         “Miss Carlisle,” A gentleman’s smile. “Would you really like me to depart?” A feigned, but just as convincing frown. “It would be my pleasure if it be yours.”

         “Don’t be silly, Greg.,” The woman wrapped a piece of his hair around her finger. “If you leave now, Mr. Strom will see you and then where will we be?”

         “Not in incredible standing with your father, Miss Carlisle.”

         “Poor standing, truly.”

         “Quite.” Greg moved away from the girl who almost lost her footing trying to follow him without moving her legs. “I should be going, you know.”

         “Haven’t we just decided you shouldn’t? Bad standing - and all?”

         “Your lesson ended nearly an hour ago.”

         “And we were so absorbed with Pythagoras, we lost track of the time.”

         “You do have a way with curves and angles, Miss Carlisle.”

         “Anne, Greg. For goodness sake.”

         “Yes, Miss Carlisle. I will see you in two Mondays?”

         The girl batted her eyes as if she thought she could convince the man to stay longer.

         “I’m riding to Paris for business.”

         “And why, Mr. Lefevre?”

         “It is not to be discussed, Miss Carlisle. I will see you Monday. Goodbye.” Before a word could escape her mouth he had turned and walked through the door, past Mr. Strom, and to his carriage, coat tails floating behind him.