Few weeks had passed since the Hampton Ball. Charlotte was eagerly waiting for Andrew to visit. Being inexperienced she believed that all gentlemen kept their promises and Andrew was indeed a gentleman. When he didn't come, she was downcast but she didn't give up hope.

One morning, Charlotte was in the parlor staring out of the window while Lily was playing the piano. They both excelled in that art but Lily loved playing it. It was her passion and her go to place to drown her sorrows. It was special to her, because Charlotte had taught her to play it, just like she had taught her to read. Charlotte was always patient and gentle with her always but especially when she taught. Her voice itself was a melody to the ear, and she loved to see her serious face whenever she played the piano. There were moments when their hands would touch and she loved how soft they were and she craved for more. She herself could not understand the depth of her feelings and sometimes questioned herself why her heart raced whenever Charlotte laughed, or combed her hair, or pull her by the hand when they played with the hens. Gradually, these emotions deepened but she forced herself to dismiss them. After all she was a girl herself and it seemed peculiar that she would want more of her, more than just being sisters. She hated herself for the fantasies in her head when she would see her fresh out of the bath, with her hair down, her scent so captivating. But she knew that it was impossible to make herself accept these...these feelings, which were overflowing but locked away.

"Charlotte, being optimistic is good but don't expect too much. After all you don't know whether-

Her words were interrupted by the bell.

It was Mr. Andrew.

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