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Amy reads the napkin she receives this evening over twice, then grins and Cheerfully agrees.

She ties an apron on over her very grand dress and thinks for a moment before writing on the specials board:

Your first drink is compliments of the bartender.

Any takers?

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"I've only fallen off once," Mary says proudly. "And that was my doing rather than hers."

Mary hadn't gotten straight back on, but a day or so later she had tried again.

"I've had a number of people suggest that I should give over to trousers and astride riding," Mary admits, hoping that Amy won't be too shocked. "I feel fortunate to have access to a good lady's mount."

Amy sets the cup of tea in front of Mary, and smiles.

"Well, my dear, I'd say that just because they don't feel they cannot handle riding sidesaddle in a long skirt, it hardly means that you have to do it their way."

The corners of Mary's mouth turn up.

"Thank you," she says.

For both the affirmation and the tea.

"I can't imagine resorting to wearing trousers. But sometimes people in Milliways differ so much from me in experience and outlook that I occasionally find that I can't tell whether I should hold fast to what I deem proper or compromise more."

"Did you ever find it confusing?" she asks, taking up her cup of tea.

"I still find it confusing, sometimes," Amy says. "Even when I'm talking to people I consider to be very good friends.

"I think . . . as far as doing what you think is right or proper and what other people think is right and proper, it's probably worth giving it a bit of thought, deciding whether you think it's inherently right or simply current convention, and then doing what you feel most comfortable with.

"I don't think it's good to refuse to consider good ideas. But I also don't think every new idea is worth adopting. Or that the mores and customs of my place and time are any valid than anyone else's."

"I feel ashamed to say that I find thinking about things of that sort all the time can be rather taxing," Mary admits.

And she does look a bit embarrassed at the admission. Mary likes to be considered to be a person who approaches live thoughtfully.

"But when one has only had to follow the rules of social convention all one's life, it's odd to think about them all the time. I even find myself wondering sometimes, now, whether some of the conventions at home even make sense."

It's an odd position to be in.

"And sometimes Milliways and home get all mixed up in my head. Such as last night--I dreamed that I went to a ball in my swimming outfit. It was dreadful"

"Some of them may not," Amy says. "The conventions at home. Some of them may have made sense once, but no longer do. But they'll never change if no one thinks about them.

"Then again, some of them may make perfect sense.

"It can be a bit exhausting, really."

"It is."

Mary's not sure if being a queen would make dealing with the conventions easier or all the harder.

"For instance.....there's a gentleman I've become friends with at home. And I cannot correspond with him when he's not in Hertfordshire." Mary's speech is a bit rushed. "And I've started thinking that it makes no sense. Why can I not if the content is all proper and above board?"

Mr. Lowell had departed again for London today, and Mary's already feeling the lack of someone to discuss interesting topics with.

"Just for instance."

Oh, of course. For instance.

Amy sets a cookie on the saucer of Mary's tea cup.

"Is that considered improper in your time, then? Writing to a gentleman?"

"To one who's not a close relative, yes."

Mary probably doesn't know how glum she looks as she takes an absent bite of her cookie.

"To correspond would imply that there is...well, and understanding."

"Oh, I see," Amy says.

"And I take it there isn't one between you and this young man?"

"No. No, nothing of the sort."

Accompanied by a quick shake of her head.

"We are friends and admire each other's good qualities, but nothing more than that."

Mary frowns.

"I think."

She's lately had a hard time sorting out her feelings in regards to Mr. Lowell, and she certainly can't claim to know his.

"Hmmmmm.

"Well, perhaps that's something else where it's best to do what you're comfortable with but keep an open mind."

"Good advice for most instances of indecision, I'd say."

"Perhaps, if I ever determine what that is, I'll do so."

"It's almost all you can do," Amy says.

"And a very sensible plan.

"So what is he like, your gentleman?"

Mary considers for a long moment.

"Odd," she finally says.

"Amiable, but odd."

"He's from another country. I suppose that accounts for some of it."

"That often accounts for some of it," Amy says.

"Which country is he from?"

"America," Mary replies.

"It used to be a colony of England's so, in some ways the two countries have a great deal in common."

"On the other hand, they did rebel against us, so in others we are quite, quite different."

"I've known a number of Americans," Amy says.

"They do occasionally have very odd ideas."

The part where they don't have a king is weird, as far as Amy is concerned.

"But very nice, most of the ones I've known."

"Oh, yes. I've met any number of others here in Milliways."

Somehow the differences don't stand out quite as much, here.

"They seem to take great pride in doing things their own way. I suppose that should go without saying."

"They do, don't they?

"All right, so he's an amiable American.

"What else is there to know about him?"

Mary's not quite sure where to begin. She does know a good deal about Mr. Lowell. At least more than she knows about most young men.

"Well. He's from a merchant family. That's why he's currently in England; to make contacts for trade."

"And he's intelligent. He went to university in America."

"He's generally of a cheerful countenance, though he can, on occasion, have a temper. Tall. Smiles a good deal. And he's rather fond of eggs."

"He sounds very amiable, indeed," Amy says.

"Is he handsome?"

"Yes, I would say so," Mary says.

She's trying hard not to feel ridiculous. She's not accustomed to this as a topic of conversation.

"Certainly pleasant-faced."

Everyone should get to have one good gossip about a boy, once.

Mary just gets to have hers with with a Queen.

"Will you get to see him again soon? As you're not able to correspond?"

Mary does better when she allows Amy's queen-ship to fade into the background. It's less intimidating that way.

"He expressed an intention to come for another visit, probably sometime next month. Provided that his duties in London allow him."

"I think he finds Hertfordshire more pleasant. Which is unsurprising -- London has many wonderful amenities, but those who can prefer to escape the city when possible. Especially in the warmer months."

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