Thirty-Nine, Considerations

Thirty-Nine

Considerations

12 June 1824

I am still thinking of why it is I wish to see more of Mr. DuBois, but I am spending even more time wondering of my hesitation, and the most time of all wondering when it is that Mr. DuBois will be next calling upon me.

I have, as I have noted, an amusement toward Mr. DuBois' seemingly childish and overbroad enthusiasm for his faith.  I am beginning to be a little superstitious, however.  I wonder if perhaps it is my own faith that is wanting, and that perhaps I should be a bit more circumspect.   

As to my hesitation in seeing more of Mr. DuBois, slight though it was in the final analysis, I would note the aforementioned view of his faith.  But I have a much more practical hesitation.  How do I explain my familial circumstances?  Or do I approach the subject at all?

On the other hand, there is very much to be said in favor of the gentleman, not the least of which is that he is close to my age, my station, my education (or so I believe), and my social status were it not in question in some quarters. 

I might be surmising too much, though.  I am judging him on the basis of his speech and dress, and the manner in which he carries himself.  He is reasonably tall, of dark curly hair, and somewhat thin.  His brown-green eyes I have already noted a few weeks back when I was less able to think objectively.  And the other night, I noticed the hint of dimples, or more, rather, of a crease along the same lines as where dimples might be, sort of like elongated dimples, more distinguished than charming.

His speech is that of one who has studied carefully, perhaps like a foreigner would, and not of one who was born into the wealthier classes.  He is thus easier to be acquainted with than someone who is judging you as to your worthiness.  His clothing is reasonably clean, almost fastidious, but as I have seen him in only the same outfit, I suspect that he is given over to a very limited wardrobe.  Whether this is due to a practical nature, or one of necessity, or one of thoughtlessness on the matter, I do not yet know.

That such a man should be present here in this small corner of the world, where wilderness still reigns, and where the prospect of an educated man who is clean, unattached, attentive, polite, and, my goodness, handsome, is a wonder.  I assume that he is also sober and industrious, and there is thus far nothing to make me think otherwise.

What would he see in me, then?  I suppose, for one, that he could see me as one of three available white, educated women of any reputable station, my own two sisters being the other two.  Oh, I suppose there are a very few others, but they do not live within twenty miles of here.  My sister Nancy has already taken up with Mr. Houck, and my sister Patsy is only sixteen, and with an eye for someone else.  Plus, she has not been in the company of Mr. DuBois except once, and then only fleetingly.  So, there you have it.  If Mr. DuBois is desirous of reputable female company, he need not look further.

That is, unless he closely considers the circumstances of my family.  And on that point, I am more than a bit hesitant.  Fearful, even.

If Mr. DuBois were to ask from my father anything at all, how would that go?  I can explain that Father is often ill, and usually not able to see to company.  This much is very true.  And, truthfully, I need not bring in the fact that my parents have lived most of their married lives in a very strained relationship, given that they no longer are under separate roof.

I do not consider these things to be falsehoods, nor even the omission of truth, but simply that not everything need be brought up at this time.

But I have forgotten one thing.

My sister Nan may have already discussed such matters with Mr. Houck, and he, in turn, with Mr. DuBois.  But if this is so, and Mr. DuBois is not put off, then, I have happily no obstacle.  And I have been pondering this matter quite needlessly.

When, then, is it that I shall next see Mr. DuBois?