<em>Violet Edwards &amp; Louis Benedict, in the Library</em><br/><br/><div class="floatright">(http://i52.tinypic.com/nlrash.jpg)</div>Violet Edwards, called "Miss Edwards (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=84695.msg3743196#msg3743196)" by her girls, clicked her way into the library. The crisp, precise sound of her heels was a familiar sound about the house. Miss Edwards, who had strong feelings on most matters of deportment, felt that flat shoes were unfeminine. As always, her black leather shoes were shined to perfection and her posture was a model of correctness.<br/><br/>"Mr. Benedict," she said, her voice cultured and melodic, "might I speak with you about the education of the new girls? I will of course be instructing them in etiquette and deportment, but I would hate to waste any time that could be spent on their enrichment. If there ever are lessons that I can oversee on your behalf, I would be most honored." What all of the flowery talk boiled down to was this: she was only the etiquette tutor because she was a woman, not because her academic qualifications were inferior. Any lesson he cared to toss her way, she could handle, and would welcome the intellectual challenge.<br/><br/>It was best that Miss Edwards did not grow bored. Her etiquette lessons could get harsh to the point of sadism, when she felt trapped in her life. And lacking the sensual preoccupations of the others, intellectual perfection was this sterling lady's only form of release.