The Fifth Kiss by Elizabeth Mansfield Page A

the process?
    On the other hand , she had used too many “hands” already. Her head was spinning with these circular arguments. She was passing beyond the bounds of logic and was fast approaching the area of unreason. What did she know, after all, about marital intimacy, about the love between man and woman, or about the mores of men in Strickland’s circle? She was quite out of her depth in these matters. For the first time since her eighteenth birthday, she regretted not having permitted her family to make more of her come-out. Perhaps, if she’d agreed to let them hold a huge ball (as Clara had wished), she would have been brought to the attention of the ton and would have gone about more frequently in society. As it was, the family had held a small dinner party in her honor, she had been squired about for a while on the arms of a few innocuous young men, and the entire enterprise had led to nothing. It was no wonder that she was woefully ignorant on matters of love and intimate relations between the sexes. Therefore, she reasoned, her wisest course of action in regard to Clara’s problem would be to forget what she’d seen and—as Voltaire might have put it—tend her own garden.
    Her own garden, she realized, was empty of appropriate experience. Olivia had not, until now, felt impelled to form close ties with any young man outside the family. As she had explained to her sister so many times, marriage was of no interest to her. She’d been quite content to remain as she was, spending her days in studying the classics of literature and assisting her brother in his researches. But during her conversation with Charles on the matter of Strickland’s infidelity, she’d begun to realize the extent of her shocking ignorance in matters of sexual behavior. She found herself curious—and curiously eager to learn a little more of the subject. As the philosopher Spinoza had written, He who would distinguish the true from the false must have an adequate idea of what is true and false . Yes, she very much wanted to learn. But to learn, she must enter the lists! She must participate in the hitherto-repulsive game of courtship. She must indulge in those social rituals which involve dalliance, flirtation and coquetry. If she truly intended to satisfy her curiosity on this subject, she must begin to experience these things herself. With a sigh of submission she went to Jamie and hinted that she would like to meet some of his friends.
    Jamie was quite pleased at Olivia’s apparent willingness to move from Charles’ sphere of influence to his , and he promptly arranged for her to join him and a few of his friends on an excursion to the theater at Covent Garden.
    It proved to be a rather more enjoyable evening than she’d anticipated. Jamie had chosen his friend, Morley Crawford, to be her escort. He assured her in advance that The Honorable Mr. Crawford was a dashing young man, a great favorite with the ladies and “complete to a shade.” He turned out to be a personable young fellow who, though not very tall, was well-built, dandyish in his dress and jovial and lively in demeanor. But he was annoyingly given to offering the ladies in his company excessive, even fulsome, compliments, and after he had told Olivia that her eyes were “speaking” and that she was the wittiest creature in the world (after she had merely remarked of the performance that the actors were not as stiff as their lines), she feared that his company would be very boring indeed. However, his sublime confidence in his own ability to charm her, his ready laugh and his unremitting good humor had their effect, and before she quite realized how he had done it, she found herself somewhat taken with him.
    Mr. Crawford, on his part, felt himself challenged. She had shown evidence of a cool reserve that he felt impelled to penetrate. “Besides,” he admitted to her brother, “she’s a most