Frederic felt a jolt in his heart when she laid her hand on his arm and he nearly blushed, but fought down the crimson creeping up his neck with a soft smile. "Whatever I- we -can do to help." He stood there for a moment, letting himself relish the feeling of her soft touch, then stepped back when he sensed the moment was growing too long. It was about time he brought in the clocks, he determined, and so he had Clover come with him to retrieve the wares they'd left in Miss Calloway's front hall when they'd arrived. As he let Clover pick out which clock to show her first, Frederic tried to straighten out his thoughts when it came to Miss Calloway. What even was her first name? He hoped to find out before their meeting this afternoon was over. But of course, she was a rather new widow, at least compared to how long ago Frederic had lost Patsy, and perhaps she wouldn't be willing to share that information. What was he even doing, thinking of her as someone he would like to 'know better'? What sort of man was he, that found attraction in a widowed woman who may not be ready for courtship again? Determining to keep his growing feelings buried in his mind at least until they left Miss Calloway's home, he picked up the clock Clover had picked and headed back into the parlor, his son cheerfully leading the way.