The year is 1910. You’ve just received a letter from your aunt. You unfold the thin sheet of paper and begin to read her tidy scrawl. Like all the letters you’ve received recently, this one begins with an expression of sincerest condolences.

I’m so sorry to have missed the funeral. Your uncle has been confined to bed with a fever for the last two weeks. Until he is well enough to return to work, I’m afraid I simply cannot afford to miss my shifts at the store.

She inquires about the burial—what kind of flowers were placed on the grave afterwards? Lilies, she hopes. Had William attended the service? Did Helen make the journey? She must have driven everyone mad with envy over her tales of Europe.

Then, in careful letters near the bottom of the page, you see that your aunt has penned a proposal.

Our tenant has informed us he will be leaving Syracuse next week. He’s taken a job on a steamer along the Mississippi, and he must be in St. Louis no later than the 24th to embark. Our spare room will be empty, and I thought perhaps you would like to come stay with us for a while. We can rent you the room for a fair price, just $4.50 per month. You’ll pay less than our usual tenants—but I’m afraid our financial situation is a bit tenuous, so we must charge you for the room despite our familial connection. I do hope you’ll consider coming to stay. It would be lovely to see you, and I’m sure you’ll find the city to your liking.

You pause for a moment to consider her offer. With no family left in Hartford, you’re not sure you have any reason to stay. On the other hand, this isn’t the only offer you’ve received this week. You recall Mr. and Mrs. Barstow approaching you shortly after the funeral concluded. After expressing their sympathies, they had politely inquired about your plans going forward, and—out of kindness or pity, you really couldn’t tell which—offered you a job at the small inn they recently opened, should you be interested. “I’m sure we can find something for you to do,” Mr. Barstow had said.

Still holding your aunt’s letter, you find the decision is really not that difficult at all. You set the letter down, and proceed to . . .