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By Root 601 0

forward a little across the table, the pearl embroidery on her gown catching the light. “My dear, take that play we saw the other evening, just for one example. It is amazing what can become acceptable if one sees it often enough, and in public. There are ideas which you and I would find appalling and which undermine all the values we most cherish, and if we were among our trusted friends we would all feel free to express our outrage when they are mocked or violated.” Her face was creased with earnestness. “And yet when it is done with wit and we are made to laugh, it feels different. No one wishes to seem without humor, to be pompous or out-of-date. We all laugh. No one looks at anyone else. No one knows who is really embarrassed or offended. And sooner or later we become used to whatever it is, and it no longer offends us. It becomes more and more difficult to say anything. We feel isolated, as if the whole tide of what everyone thinks has moved on and left us behind, alone.”

Caroline knew precisely what she meant. She was correct. One grows less sensitive to vulgarity, to coarseness of thought or perception, even to witness of other people’s pain. The initial shock wears off. Anger finally dies.

And yet she heard herself saying what she knew Joshua would have were he there.

“Of course it does. That is why we must constantly explore the boundaries and find new ways to say things, precisely so people will not become used to them and no longer care.”

Mr. Marchand frowned. “I am not sure that I follow you. What new things must we say?”

Her husband set down his wineglass, his expression tightly controlled, his eyes very steady. “I admit to being old-fashioned. I believe the ideals of my father and grandfather were high, and I have no desire to see them questioned, let alone flouted,” he replied. “They believed a man was bound by his honor, and his word, once given, was unbreakable.” His voice warmed. “They held duty sacred, thought of others before self, service the highest calling. They treated all women with gentleness, and those of their family they were not only bound to protect from all violence, coarseness of thought or word, or vulgarity, but it was their pleasure as well. Surely that is what love is, the desire above all things, no matter at what cost to oneself, to protect and make life joyous and rich and safe for them?” He looked at her earnestly, his blue eyes unclouded.

Caroline thought of Edward, and of Samuel Ellison, and heard Joshua’s voice in her ears. Oddly enough, she also heard Pitt.

“It is a kind of love,” she answered gently. “Is it what you would wish for yourself ?”

A shadow crossed his face. “I beg your pardon?”

“Is it the kind of love you would wish extended towards yourself ?”

“My dear, our circumstances are entirely different,” he said patiently. “It is my place to protect, not to be protected. Women are uniquely vulnerable. If they become coarsened by what is violent and destructive in life, what devalues innocence, reverence for the beautiful and precious, for intimacy and the finer emotions, they pass it on to our children, and then what is there left for anyone? There must be some hallowed place where there is no mockery of the sacred, no belittling of tenderness, no willingness to injure or take advantage, where the spiritual always outweighs the carnal.”

Caroline felt a strange, painful mixture of shame and frustration, and at the same time, of comfort.

“Of course there must,” she agreed wholeheartedly. “I wish I knew how to keep it without at the same time closing my eyes to everything that is uncomfortable or questioning. How can I keep innocence and yet also grow up rather than remain a child? How can I fight for what is good if I have no idea what is evil?”

“You should not have to fight, my dear,” he said with intense feeling, leaning toward her, his face very earnest. “You should be protected from such things! That is society’s duty, and if those whose charge and whose privilege it is were honoring their callings, then the question would never arise. As it is, the Lord Chamberlain