He had all but forgotten how he originally learned of that place called Mary’s Hamlet — and was lost completely in nostalgia and boasts with his old acquaintances — when he saw Elissa standing at the end of their table. He offered her a seat among them but did not stand.

“I’ve come with friends,” she answered, but his own friends were well supplied with drink by then and eager to have women’s company. They told her there was more than room enough for all of them at their table.

When the places were filled, and everyone had been introduced, the laughter and fellow feeling reminded Caleum of those festive days as a boy when his grandfather entertained in the great hall at Stonehouses. Although he was not among kin, he felt as cheerful as he had then, enjoying the pleasures of sharing his board with friends.

Elissa sat at his side, and each time she laughed she leaned toward him and brushed lightly against his arm. It had been years since he felt a woman so close, and each time she touched against him he wondered what it meant, but also why he had held himself so chastely and apart from feminine company. He thought then of his family and children. And was reminded in general of all those things the heart will not relinquish. Julius and Carl were both surprised to see him so casual that night, as he was always rigid with dutifulness since each had known him. Now he relaxed, letting the evening expand unchecked and allowing whatever suggestions it might make to hold and seduce him.

He watched the girl Elissa as she interacted with his friends, and, though some might think her beneath the women he was accustomed to, especially Libbie, she had a way of making those around her feel relaxed, as all mingled freely according to whim and will and not as was dictated by usual social customs. Caleum also held Julius in the light of friendship again, as he had not done since they were boys and all equal.

“Did you notice anything strange at Saratoga?” he asked, taking Julius by the shoulder, when they had exhausted their talk of battle and everyone they both knew from Berkeley.

“Everything was strange at Saratoga, and all of it too familiar.”

“Did you see anyone you knew from other days?”

Julius nodded in recognition. “You saw him too?”

They both shuddered with sadness. “To see him there, you would think he had never known any other life,” Caleum remarked.

“I’m afraid he doesn’t know any life at all anymore,” Julius said, going on to report how Bastian had been mortally injured at that battle, as he oversaw the artillery with his lord. “When he was shot, the Blue Colonel was on the other side of the field, and they say he would not let anyone else touch him, calling them all commoners who tried.”

“How far some men seem to travel from their origins,” said one of the ladies, who was deeply affected by the story of Bastian Johnson, when Julius had finished relating it.

“Aye,” they all uttered at different volumes, then paused to lift their glasses in a toast of remembrance. As Elissa placed her glass back on the table she touched Caleum’s arm again, and in that moment he felt a doorway back from the isolation that had gripped him for so long.

It is not good always to eat alone, he thought, placing his hand upon hers, very briefly, without looking at her.

“Would you like to dance?” Julius asked the woman next to him, who was called Sally, as the table grew quiet. She took his hand gladly, and they stood to make their way to the ballroom floor.

“Let’s all dance,” Carl suggested, at which everyone at the table stood up eagerly except Caleum and Elissa.

They all looked to him, to make certain he was not offended, but Caleum only looked back, then pushed his chair from the table slowly and stood to his full height. He held his cane in one hand and offered the other to Elissa. She took hold of it and followed him to the dance floor, smiling but nervous for his safety.

In the middle of the room, Caleum placed one arm around Elissa’s waist and held her hand with the other, grasping his cane simultaneously in case he should lose his balance.

He did not, and when they moved over the floor it was as if wood had great respect for wood, and while he was not perfect in his movements, he was more graceful than any would have expected. They danced through two songs and made their way back to the table only when he was well tired out.

After they sat down the waiter brought over another bottle of cordial, and the two lounged in comfortable weariness. They were easy with each other then, as they had not been earlier in the night, and spoke tenderly in whispers as the rest of the room went about its affairs.

Eventually the others returned to the table as well, but by then the rest of the crowd was thinning and it was time for all to go home, or wherever they were passing the night. Caleum made arrangements to meet with Julius and Carl later in the week, when they announced their departure, but he and Elissa stayed on in the hall, reclining and talking softly. At last the music ended and they could stay there no longer, so walked out into the freezing night air together.

Under the white light of the gas lamps Caleum was bold indeed when he invited her to return with him to his room, but she declined, saying it would not do. There was, however, another inn, known as a place where lovers carried on surreptitious affairs in secret warrens, and he assented to this and let her lead him there through the frigid streets, until at last they reached the place and climbed the stairs and could be alone — as they were anxious to be.

They were still ensconced there two weeks later on Thanksgiving Day. Despite Elissa’s desire to cook for him from her own pots and serve him off her own table, they could not go where she lived, for fear of scorn and disapproval. Instead, Caleum took her to an inn he had heard of, which had the reputation of serving the best food in the city.

Julius and Carl had both left the island already, Carl to visit with his family in Boston and Julius to see a woman he had met at Mary’s Hamlet from New Jersey, but Caleum had only moved from one hotel to another, being enchanted by Elissa as their affections for each other seemed to grow and grow. He would not — and perhaps it was only guilt that held him from it — term what passed between them love, but it was a rapturous thing all the same and he thought it a worthy rival to domestic contentment, though whether it could last he dare not ask himself.

At the inn they were seated at a good table by the owner, and all through the room were elegantly dressed men and women, many with children, enjoying themselves as the waiters brought a sumptuous feast to every table. When their own table was laid, Caleum gave prayer and named all his thankfulness for that year.

Elissa testified after him, and, although she had been made nervous when he mentioned his children, she told first how glad she was for the gift of his affection — claiming to have never known any before it.

They feasted then on a meal that made clear how the place had earned its good name. Such fine food, such good drink, such merry company — however, all that could not stop Caleum from wondering to himself what was happening that day at Stonehouses. If he had been wearing his old army coat he might have gazed at its interior scene then, but that garment was on the bottom of his trunk, and he wore his new clothes, which neither comforted nor burdened him with any memories.

As she watched him, Elissa began to grow cross and asked where his thoughts were. She was in a hard position, and knew she could not make too many demands on him or even ask him to stay on beyond what he wanted, even if it was her deepest wish. She was relieved therefore when he answered her duplicitously — claiming only to be thinking of old acquaintances — satisfied that he did not say outright he was thinking of his family or else that he wished he had left already to be with them.