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Chapter Thirteen: Reflections

  It was now just a short time before the Somersets were to head to Bath. One day, Matthew found his daughter in the garden outside their house. Seeing her, he sighed, knowing that she was depressed over George's interest in the war.  ''Helena, dear,'' he began. ''My dear, sweet daughter. You must listen to me.'' He led the young woman into sitting on a stone bench behind their persons . Surrounded by the many flowers beneath their feet, there was no warmer place to discuss trivial affairs than here.  ''Helena,'' he began again, ''many officers are headed off to war. Another young gentleman, however, seeks such positions. George wishes to defend his country's honor.''  With tears in her eyes, the young woman faced her father. ''Is that all that he is defending?'' she asked.  Matthew looked down. ''He feels the pressure of his fellow officers,'' he returned. ''He will do wh...
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Chapter Eleven: The Letter

  On one late Spring night, a party was held at the Somerset's house. Here, several of George's friends were present, including a few highly respected officers. Helena, meanwhile, was surrounded by the company of local ladies, who conversed with her about fashions and hairstyles.  Seeing his son and daughter with new acquaintances, Mr. Somerset smiled, hoping for a wife and husband for his son and daughter. In the past three years, he had given up hope on Basil's potential union with Helena. After all, Mr. Lee had long been dead now, and it was not like any of his children had contacted them since. While he wondered why Basil had never again reached out to his daughter, considering that they had once been so close of friends, he didn't wish to bring attention to Basil's absence from their home, knowing that it would hurt her heart.   Matthew was a caring man. He loved both of his children. He was in tune with their feelings, knowing their minds well. He sensed...
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Chapter Twelve: The Maturing Young Woman

 It had been a long week in Oxford. Isabelle and Felicity Barton were most grateful for the presence of their aunt, who now had the opportunity to attend church with them. Having remained the week at Lady Anne's, Margaret Weathers had never been to a Baptist service. Though Anglican, she also had the unfortunate pleasure of visiting their local congregation.   The service started out with plenty of singing. One young girl, a notable large redhead, cried throughout the singing. Margaret was not used to this sentiment in church service; for Mrs. Weathers, the liturgy of Anglicanism pointed one toward God, yet she observed the Baptists clinging to their emotional reaction----the emotions were always more definitive to the service than any attention to Koine Greek or New Testament theology.   The sermon was even more shocking. Reverend James was as short as he was round. Sweating throughout the course of his preaching, he exhausted himself and all else by his insist...
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