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"Great. I know a wonderful little cafe close to here where they make the best po'boy sandwiches in New Orleans."

"Afterward, I do have to see Dominique," I said.

"Of course. I'll go with you, if you want."

"I think I should just go myself. Dominique has met Paul and . ."

"I understand," Beau said quickly. "Let's get dressed and go eat."

Beau was right about the po'boy sandwiches. I had one with the works, sauteed shrimp, cheese, fried oysters, sliced tomatoes and onions. We sat out on a patio where we ate and watched the tourists with their cameras parading by and gawking at the architecture, the novelty shops and restaurants. Afterward, we went for a walk and I returned to the hotel to call home to see how Pearl was doing. Mrs. Flemming told me everything was fine. I called for my car and brought the Confederate series over to Dominique, who thought the pictures were wonderful.

"There is no question you are ready to be formally introduced to the New Orleans art world," he told me, and we began to plan my art show. Afterward, I returned to the hotel to shower and change to meet Beau for dinner. I had a message from Paul waiting, telling me how to reach him.

"How is it going?" he asked when I phoned.

"Fine. You were right. Dominique thinks I should have a show. We're setting it up," I said, making it seem as if that was all I was doing in New Orleans.

"That's wonderful."

"And your meetings?"

"Going better than I expected, but I'm sorry I'm not with you," he said.

"I'm all right. I'm going home tomorrow sometime in the late morning. Dominique and I are having breakfast together," I said. The lie nearly got stuck on my tongue. Paul was silent.

"Good," he said after a moment. "Have a safe trip back."

"You, too, Paul."

"See you soon. 'Bye."

The receiver felt like a stone in my hand. My eyes glistened with tears and my chest ached. Grandmere Catherine used to say that deceit was a garden in which only the blackest weeds grew, and those who sowed their seeds in it reaped disaster. I hoped this wasn't something I had planted in Paul's future. There was no one I would want to hurt less than him.

Beau knew a quaint little French restaurant close to Jackson Square. I took a cab to our love nest and from there we walked. We had a wonderful meal of quail in wine followed by cups of rich coffee and orange creme brulee. Afterward, I insisted we take a long walk.

"I'm stuffed," I moaned.

We held hands and walked slowly through the French Quarter, which was bustling with its nightlife. There was a different sort of excitement in the Quarter after the sun went down. The women who stood in the doorways and alleyways were more scantily dressed and heavily made-up. The music had a deeper wail, some singers sounding mournful, full of blues and tears. In other places where younger tourists flocked, there was upbeat jazz and the shrieks, shouts, and laughter of people letting down their hair, looking for the ultimate excitement, whatever that might be. All the novelty shops and souvenir shops were brightly lit. Drifters, poor musicians, lined the sidewalks. There was someone at every corner pleading for a handout, but no one resented them. It was as if they were meant to be there, part of what made the Quarter unique. Scam artists hovered about, searching for easy prey.

"'Scuse me, sir, but I bet I can tell where you come from exactly. If I don't, I'll give you ten bucks; if I do, you give me twenty. Here's my ten. What'dya say?"

"No, thank you. We know where we come from," Beau responded with a smile.

It was exciting walking here with him and I thought, yes, I could have another life, a secret life with him here. We would make our love nest comfortable and we would enjoy the city, the food and its people, and we would cheat Fate.

We circled until we returned to the small apartment, where I made an impulsive decision to spend the night with him. We made love again, this time turning to each other the moment we closed the door behind us. Before we reached the bedroom, we were both naked. He lifted me in his arms and put me down gently on the bed and then he knelt beside the bed and began kissing me from my toes up. I dosed my eyes and waited for him to reach my lips, which by that time were burning with desire.

As we made love, we heard the music and the murmuring sounds of people talking in the street outside, a constant flow of voices and laughter. It was intoxicating and I held Beau close to me, whispering his name, whispering my undying love, actually coming to tears when we reached our sweet climax and lay beside each other, pleasantly exhausted.

In the morning we rose early and went to the Cafe du Monde for coffee and beignets. Then he walked me back to my hotel. We had planned to meet again in a week's time when I returned to complete the arrangements for the art show and bring Dominique some more of my work. I kissed him good-bye and hurried into the hotel to get my things.

I was afraid I would find a message indicating Paul had tried to reach me the night before, but there was nothing. I was in and out of the hotel quickly, and in minutes, back on the highway that would take me home. I felt full of life, restored, blossoming, just as Beau had said. But my elation was to be short-lived. It ended the moment I drove up to the house.

The dark expression on James's face when he came down the front steps to help me with my things told me immediately that something terrible was wrong. My first thoughts went to Pearl.

"What is it, James? What's happened?"

"Oh, it's Mrs. Flemming, madame. She's had some bad news, I'm afraid."