"She should not try to speak for other people - your sister. And again I am certainly not that pretty. But I would not simply give you ...the .........brush off," Miriam informed him, "Or any boy...that would be mean."

"Well, you know Jemima!" he grinned "She isn't backward about coming forward. And we'll have to agree to disagree about just how pretty you are... and kind... though I wish you would give all the other boys the brush off! Sorry, there I go babbling again!" he looked shyly at his feet, going an interesting shade of red. 

"It's alright though...about your babbling I mean," she paused for an instant, " not that you were babbling I mean."

"Ohhhh, I'm babbling all right, Mam!" he laughed at himself.

"But...if you want you can talk me for a stroll. I do not think we need ask my father or mother about it," Arabella had certainly influenced her boldness alright.

Hector looked delighted, mainly because Miriam's reply indicated that she was keen on the idea, and not just acquiescing because she felt sorry for him or something. But then he wrestled with his higher conscience.

"Well, I wouldn't want to... you know... I wouldn't wish to compromise your reputation." he said. In his mind Miriam seemed so shy and innocent, she probably didn't even realise what boys were like, and the sort of awful things most of them wanted to do to a pretty girl: like kissing and cuddling and... well, more kissing!

"Very well then, Mr. Wigfall, we can respectfully disagree on that topic," Miriam nodded with a smile. It was very nice of him to keep showering with compliments but her sense of modesty was a bit uncomfortable with it.

She also gave her permission for him to accompany her on a stroll. It could be quite.......interesting.

"Well, I wouldn't want to... you know... I wouldn't wish to compromise your reputation," he pointed out, again the gentleman. Jemima was just plain wrong about her brother in Miriam's opinion.

"Oh I am not worried about such a thing. People traipse up and down the boardwalks all the time, everyone's virtue and reputation remains quite intact," she scoffed at the thought.

"And afterall you do not seem too concerned about your own reputation possibly being scuffed by being seen in the company of a Jew?" she wasn't naive, she knew there were people about who despised Jews. What were they called sometimes? Christ-killers....

"Well, I wouldn't want to... you know... I wouldn't wish to compromise your reputation," he pointed out, again the gentleman. Jemima was just plain wrong about her brother in Miriam's opinion.

"Oh I am not worried about such a thing. People traipse up and down the boardwalks all the time, everyone's virtue and reputation remains quite intact," she scoffed at the thought.

"Sure. Long as we stick to traipsing, no one's reputation's going to be in aaaany danger at all." he said, catching her eyes and immediately glancing away. Her eyes were like searchlights, boring into him. Her gaze was so clear and direct. He assumed that was the sign of a person with a clear conscience. She was so pure and chaste and untouched, it made him feel like a heel, kinda soiled in comparison.

"And afterall you do not seem too concerned about your own reputation possibly being scuffed by being seen in the company of a Jew?" she wasn't naive, she knew there were people about who despised Jews. What were they called sometimes? Christ-killers....

His face grew serious. 

"Don't ever say that, Miss... Miriam. There's no one in this town or this Territory or this whole country I'd be prouder to walk along side, and I don't care who knows it." Again, his soft brown eyes met hers. 

Then... the door burst open, and Mr. Pettigrew's form filled the doorway, with an almost horrified cry of "Mr. Wigfall, Sir! Do you have the effrontery to pay court to one of my employees while she is the commission of her duties, Sir?!" His face was purple and he sounded like he was about to challenge the young man to a duel with sabres at dawn.

Hector was about to clap his cap to his head and run out of the place, but then he remembered what he'd just said to Miriam. Miriam! He squared his shoulders and looked the portly store owner straight in the face. 

"Yes, Sir, Mr. Pettigrew, yes I am. I'm paying court to Miss Miriam Kaufman and I don't care who knows it!" 

"Good Heavens!" was all Pettigrew could say, as Hector put his cap casually on his head and touched his finger to the peak, giving a little bow to Miriam. "Miss Kaufmann, I shall look forward to escorting you on Sunday, Mr. Pettigrew, your servant!" he bowed again to them both and walked out of the door whistling Nancy Dill.

Miriam's boss put his hands on his hips and turned his gaze upon her.

"Well, Miss Kaufmann, and what have you to say about these most unprecedented proceedings?!" Yes, Hector had extracted himself with no little élan, but he had rather left Miriam holding the sack.

"Sure. Long as we stick to traipsing, no one's reputation's going to be in aaaany danger at all."

Miriam knew sarcasm when she heard it but she had meant what she had said. But she also wanted to remind him of her Jewish background. For some that was a red flag.

"Don't ever say that, Miss... Miriam. There's no one in this town or this Territory or this whole country I'd be prouder to walk along side, and I don't care who knows it." Again, his soft brown eyes met hers. 

Miriam blinked, well that was a passionate response. She nodded, "Thank you. "

Suddenly her employer was back and apparently shocked that the pair of them were chatting. 

"Mr. Wigfall, Sir! Do you have the effrontery to pay court to one of my employees while she is the commission of her duties, Sir?!

Stunned, Miriam wanted to leap to their defense but Hector spoke up first.

"Yes, Sir, Mr. Pettigrew, yes I am. I'm paying court to Miss Miriam Kaufman and I don't care who knows it!" 

Wait!  What?  They were certainly not courting!

"Umm, no, that is not exactly...." Miriam dissented but probably far too soft in tone and volume.

Her boss was obviously taken aback and with that Hector announced his intentions for this coming Sunday and jauntily left the shop, whistling at that.

Mr. Pettigrew  "Well, Miss Kaufmann, and what have you to say about these most unprecedented proceedings?!"

"I assure you, sir, we are hardly courting. He asked me for permission to ask my father if he could take a short walk in public with me after Sunday services. I pointed out I do not even attend such services being that I am Jewish.  Not by any stretch of the imagination can that be called courting," Miriam tried to straighten this all out.

"I assure you, sir, we are hardly courting. He asked me for permission to ask my father if he could take a short walk in public with me after Sunday services. I pointed out I do not even attend such services being that I am Jewish.  Not by any stretch of the imagination can that be called courting," Miriam tried to straighten this all out.

"Can it not, indeed?"  queried the large man rhetorically. "And what, pray, are these?"

Mr. Pettigrew maintained his serious mien, but he could not hide the twinkle in his eye, as he reached out for the flowers. He gave them a sniff. 

"I shall take care of these, Miss Kaufmann, you may attend to your duties." he said as he marched over to a waste paper bin by some shelves behind the counter, and for a minute it seemed as if he were about to throw the beautiful wild blooms away. Instead he bent over, no doubt putting a perilous strain on the seams of his old fashioned chequered trousers, and came up proudly holding a slightly dusty vase. 

"I thought we had one somewhere!" he muttered to himself, disappearing into the back room muttering something about "... put 'em in water... with a little sugar in it..."

When he reappeared, the flowers were nicely arranged in the vase, which he placed with artistic care on the counter in just the right position to show them to best advantage. 

Mr. Pettigrew stood back and took in his handiwork, still muttering to himself:  "Beautiful flowers. Walking after church. 'Hardly courting' indeed!" He seemed quite giddy at the romance of it all, one might have thought that the posy had been brought in for him! 

He disappeared into the back again, and then came back; he seemed quite distracted. 

"Oh come, come Miss Kaufmann: do stop wasting time on those buttons. We need to decide what you are going to wear!!" he declared, all of a flutter.

"Oh come, come Miss Kaufmann: do stop wasting time on those buttons. We need to decide what you are going to wear!!" he declared, all of a flutter.

"Oh nothing special. I certainly cannot afford to buy a new dress right now either. I do have a suitable wardrobe though, I assure you," she pointed out.

He picked up the now discarded ribbon, which was still perfectly clean, and held it up.

"Oh, but have you got something in your collection..." (perhaps 'collection' too grand a term for the items in Miriam's press, but Mr. Pettigrew was becoming slightly overwrought by the idea of dressing a lady for an occasion, he didn't get a chance to do that much these days, out here in a cow-town) "... that will both blend with and highlight this aureolin ribbon?" Pettigrew never dirtied his mouth with prosaic terms like 'yellow' or 'green' - items were always 'canary' or 'puce' or 'Prussian'.

"I believe it would be a very romantic touch to wear this ribbon in your hair" Worcester fluttered excitedly "... and I have just the dress to go with it - the white milanese with roussed skirt - we can add some aureolin ribboning and take it in so it fits perfectly. Oh! You will look so heavenly, Miss Kaufmann, and a perfect advertisment for our wares, to boot!!"

Then the door tingled open and Pettigrew started to shout "We're closed!" but then saw it was Jemima.

"Lock the door, Miss Wigfall, and put up the closed sign! Today..." he drew himself up to his full height "... we are CREATING!!"

The man would not let up, so full of plans was he for HER life, her privacy. Miriam sighed but it was hard for her to argue with adults especially authority figures like one's employers. She guessed a mere ribbon wasn't so bad though although blanched at his use of words like 'romantic'.

.. and I have just the dress to go with it - the white milanese with roussed skirt - we can add some aureolin ribboning and take it in so it fits perfectly. Oh! You will look so heavenly, Miss Kaufmann, and a perfect advertisment for our wares, to boot!!"

Oh heaven above! Miriam mildly protested now though, "That is an expensive dress, what if I should get it dirty or, god forbid, tear it on a nail or something."

Then the door tingled open and Pettigrew started to shout "We're closed!" but then saw it was Jemima.

"Lock the door, Miss Wigfall, and put up the closed sign! Today..." he drew himself up to his full height "... we are CREATING!!"

Oh no, not Jemima! This whole thing was exploding so fast and now Hector's own sister was to be involved?

"Excuse me, I do not mean to be forward, sir. But you are making far too much out of this and I am very uncomfortable with the whole direction this is going. No offense, but I must decline your kindness," it took all her nerve to say even this much.

Pettigrew completely pooh-poohed Miriam's objections that she might dirty the dress he was proposing that she wear for the 'big date' and ordered poor Jemima, who hadn't got a clue what was going on, to close up the shop. But suddenly, the shy young seamstress piped up in a slightly quavering, but determined voice. 

"Excuse me, I do not mean to be forward, sir. But you are making far too much out of this and I am very uncomfortable with the whole direction this is going. No offense, but I must decline your kindness," it took all her nerve to say even this much.

"But....!?" Mr. Pettigrew was more than a little taken aback: he fair staggered. "I..." he looked ashen, lost for words; he pulled out a beautifully white handkerchief and dabbed the sweat from his suddenly beaded forehead. He looked almost pleadingly at Jemima, who returned his look with a frown and a flat question of "Am I closing this, or what?"

He swayed a little and gripped the counter.

"Miss Kaufmann. Please forgive a... a very silly old man. It was not my place to interfere... I must..." he looked a little lost, like he had never seen the interior of this shop before. "I must retire to my chambers..." he muttered weakly, and made his way stumblingly toward and through the velvet curtain.

Jemima watched him go with a look of mild confusion on her  bovine features before swivelling her small eyes to Miriam, sniffing and asking the inevitable question: "What in Sam Hill was all that about?"

Miriam had managed to get out her refusal of her employers kind but far too enthusiastic assistance, this was all too much too fast. Next thing you know he would want to fit her for her wedding gown at this pace! Poor man, he took it all rather badly though thankfully he did not fire her at least. No, instead he seemed very sad, almost stricken. As he retired into the interior of the shop, Miriam winced and called out, "But thank you anyways."

Jemima was standing there though and she had definitely witnessed the last strange moment so of course she had to ask, "What in Sam Hill was all that about?"

"Nothing....well, of course it was not nothing, but  I'm sorry," Miriam sighed then continued, "It was a simple misunderstanding between us. I would ask that you not ask anything further as it is something personal and I have a right to my privacy. And now I would rather not talk about it."