Chapter 18
Week 7, Instructor Calendar, March 1898
‘twas strange, ’twas passing strange,
‘Twas pitiful, ’twas wondrous pitiful.
I.iii
Concordia’s thoughts were most definitely elsewhere when she nearly bumped into the bursar on the path to Founder’s Hall. “Oh! I beg your pardon, Mr. Isley.”
The man smiled and tipped his hat. “No harm done.”
They fell into step together, or at least as much as Concordia could manage. The bursar, though shorter than most men, walked with a brisk, powerful stride. She struggled to keep up with him.
“It was most kind of Mrs. Isley to invite me to…your dinner function…this week." Concordia huffed to catch her breath.
Isley gave her an apologetic glance and slowed his pace. “We are happy to have you, dear. Lily tells me that your young man will be joini
