Front Page Affair by Radha Vatsal Page B

Victoria—”
    â€œYes, yes.” Amanda sometimes treated Kitty like she didn’t know basic facts, as though attending boarding school in Europe had somehow stunted Kitty’s intelligence.
    â€œAnd Princess Victoria, Queen Victoria’s daughter who was married off to the German emperor,” Amanda went on, “had to have her son, the present kaiser, pulled out of her with forceps. He was born with a crippled arm as a result and had to undergo excruciating treatments to straighten it. They say he always felt like he was never good enough for his parents. When he was five years old, his mother decided he must learn how to ride. He had British royal blood, so it was unthinkable that he couldn’t. But his mother was determined that her son learn to ride like a British king. Of course, it’s hard when you have one arm that doesn’t work. And although he kept falling off and begged her to stop, she wouldn’t give up until he learned how to do it to her satisfaction.”
    â€œAnd that’s why he declared war on Russia, France, and England?” It was Kitty’s turn to be skeptical.
    â€œHe wants to prove that he can keep up with the rest,” Amanda replied. “That neither he nor the German nation are to be trifled with. Don’t look at me like that,” she said to Kitty. “I’m just repeating what I heard.”
    â€œI thought you found your dinner companion fascinating.”
    â€œHe was. You should have been there to hear him tell it in person.”
    â€œSo no new beaus?” Amanda’s parents had their hearts set on her making “a good match,” which meant a wealthy match, since the Vanderwells, although they were descended from a distinguished line, had very little cash at present.
    â€œIt was the same old boring crowd: Jerry, Potty, and Neville, prattling on as usual. But I did make a decision that I want to tell you about. I said it in front of everyone at our table, including Mummy and Daddy, so I can’t back down now.”
    â€œWhat is it?” Kitty turned to face her friend.
    Amanda’s cheeks were flushed, and her eyes sparkled. “I plan to enroll in a nurse’s aide course at the YWCA, and when it’s over, I’m going to go to Europe to tend to the wounded.”
    â€œYou?” Kitty slowed down. The Amanda she knew barely deigned to tie her own shoelaces, let alone tend to others.
    â€œYes! And why not? I’ll be twenty-four this year, Capability. I haven’t met anyone who suits my tastes and Mummy and Daddy’s requirements, and I won’t have people calling me a spinster. Besides”—she resumed her breezy manner—“nursing is terribly glamorous. Who knows? I may even meet a wounded nobleman who dies in my arms, leaving me his fortune.”
    â€œYou mean debt, don’t you?”
    Amanda grinned. “All the best girls are becoming nurses these days, which is why I want you to give up the paper and come join me.”
    â€œExcuse me?”
    â€œThat’s right. Give up the paper. You’ve been complaining about that Miss Busby since you started.”
    â€œShe’s not so bad…” Kitty began to regret anything unkind she might have said about the Ladies’ Page editor.
    â€œYou told me she doesn’t give you any real work. Just makes you judge contests and open mail.”
    â€œNot any longer.”
    â€œIs that so?” Amanda flicked Lucky with her crop, and he broke into a canter.
    After a moment’s pause, Kitty urged Damsel forward and followed her friend down the empty path, free and fast on her mount with nothing but greenery around her and snippets of clear blue skies overhead.
    They came to a turnoff in the trail, interrupted by a low wall. It was against the rules to ride there, but many of the young bucks did, to get in a jump. Amanda sped up her horse some more, and one-step, two-step, she was in the air,