Jenkins Printing and Engraving, Muffey
Except, of course, he’d sounded pretty reasonable as he’d argued – apologetic, almost – and even laughed. Chrysanthe didn’t know what to make of it. She was sure she’d offended him. She didn’t feel entirely to blame – he’d made some awful jokes downstairs, and he’d really frightened her – but she thought he’d have been within his rights to be offended. Nitpicking at his polite dismissal of her criticism of his character seemed rather ungrateful, all told.
She’d meant it constructively, Chrysanthe insisted to herself, and wasn’t sure why she felt a bit badly. Either way – whatever way – she kept quiet, and didn’t press the point any further.
“Not short for,” Chrysanthe said, evenly. She was grateful for that, at least; being burdened with the entirety of Chrysanthemum, she felt, would be considerably worse than Chrysanthe. Her lips twitched, faintly. He looked amused, though, and she felt rather charitable, so Chrysanthe went on. “Deliberately evocative of, though, certainly,” she offered him a tentative little smile. “My father liked names with something of a, um, floral disposition. My sister’s named Amaryllis.”
A woman should be as lovely as a flower, Chrysanthe remembered her father saying, probably while pouring liquor and writing a note to invest in some poorly thought out venture to regain the family fortune, and equally decorative. It had been a long time before Chrysanthe had sorted out that by that she felt he rather meant quiet and obedient; fortunately, he hadn’t spent enough time with her for such exhortations to settled in to any significant degree.
Chrysanthe wasn’t, really, stupid. She was, she would allow, perhaps anxious of late. She wouldn’t have gone so far as to say fearful; she didn’t jump at spiders or cry at the drop of a hat. She felt her reaction had been reasonable, given her own circumstances, the lamentable mistake of looking at the manuscripts which he had left out – entirely his own fault – and his general demeanor, and he had certainly indicated he thought so as well.
Sure, his manners were abominable, but did hers need to be as well? Rigid adherence to manners could, in fact, become rude, in certain circumstances; insisting on calling Priscilla Ms. Dundright-Heathton, for example. She felt she could make a reasonable accommodation, given the circumstances; as well, something about the fact that he hadn’t actually come out and asked was somewhat endearing. She felt she should have been less charitably inclined if he’d been forthright in his request.
“PJ,” Chrysanthe said, and she nodded slightly. Mr. PJ, she thought to ask, a bit hopefully, but even she could tell that sounded absurd.
He didn’t seem keen on actually pouring the tea, so Chrysanthe took the teapot herself, and did it for both of them. She put a cube of sugar in hers, stirred it around a bit, and sat back with the cup. She didn’t think the offer of tea had expired, and if so, he ought to have rescinded it properly.
He looked a bit more – serious, sort of, or at least less absurd, when he started going on about the actual business of printing. Chrysanthe nodded along through his explanation about the setting of type.
“I’m empowered by the society to make a final determination,” Chrysanthe put in. She wasn’t sure she’d realized until he kept on that he wanted her to come and watch him do it. She had to admit the idea rather interested her, although there was a part of her which still very much wanted to go outside and never, ever return.
“Larger copies?” Chrysanthe’s eyes went a bit wide. “Oh, I see! That’s quite a nice idea,” she leaned forward. “We could give one to the speaker, and perhaps – keep a little store of them, if we did them for each talk, and put them up in the rooms where the events are held to show just how much the society does. I think everyone would really like it,” She was smiling, now, a little wider than before, bright-eyed.
No extra cost was, also, Chrysanthe felt, quite a reasonable sort of pricing. She inclined her head. “All right. We need the smaller ones as soon as possible, really. Having them by the eight would really excellent, if they can be in Brunnhold by then. Over the weekend’s all right as well, though, if that’s what can be managed.”
“I should want to see the example,” Chrysanthe said, carefully, “but I have some time to stay and see it get started, at least. I should need a final price also, for the whole job. But it all sounds very reasonable – um – PJ.”