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"How?"

"I came back into New Orleans right after we had our conversation and paid a furniture dealer twice the price to get everything set up for her," he said. "Then I rushed back to the ranch."

I shook my head in amazement.

"I want this to work," he said softly but determinedly. "For all of us."

"Oh, Beau." Tears came to my eyes. Pearl did seem happy and was eager to explore her new surroundings.

"I'll make some phone calls and start the ball rolling for us to get some new servants. The agency will send candidates for butler and maid and cook."

"What will people think once they hear about all the servants leaving?" I asked.

"Nothing. It wouldn't be anything unexpected. I'm sure they were all mumbling complaints about Gisselle anyway. After Daphne's death and Bruce's departure from the house, she became so oppressive and demanding, I felt sorry for them. The fact is, I had to plead and beg with them not to quit." He paused. "Gisselle and I took Daphne and Pierre's suite," he said. "Might as well make yourself at home," he suggested.

I took Pearl into my arms again and followed him across the hall. Very little had been changed in the suite. It still had its great canopy bed and elaborate velvet drapes over the windows. However, the vanity table was a mess and there were some garments tossed over the love seat.

"Gisselle wasn't the neatest woman. She didn't respect her possessions because she replaced them so often. We were always arguing about that," Beau said. The closet door was open and I could see her vast array of dresses, skirts, and blouses, some dangling from their hangers precariously, some actually on the floor of the closet.

"Gisselle's going to have some remarkable character changes," I said.

Beau laughed. "Not too quickly, however," he warned. The phone rang and we both looked at it.

"We don't have to answer it," he said.

"It might be Paul. I've got to start sometime; it might as well be immediately, Beau. If I can't pull this off, we'd better know right away."

He nodded and looked apprehensive as I started toward the phone.

"Wait," he said. "If it's one of her friends, I'll know which one." He picked up the receiver. "Hello." He listened. "Yes, she's right here. It's Pauline," he told me, and held out the receiver. "She can be very bitchy," he whispered.

I nodded and took the phone into my trembling fingers. "Hello."

"Gisselle? I called the ranch and they said you had left for New Orleans. I thought you were staying another week. I got Peter to agree to go. I thought we were going to have a party," she whined. "It's just lucky I decided to call first. I might have driven all the way out there for nothing. What happened? Why didn't you call me?" she demanded angrily.

I took a deep breath, recalled how my sister spoke on the phone, and replied. "What happened?" I said. "Only a disaster."

"What?" Pauline exclaimed.

"My sister came to visit and was bitten by mosquitoes," I explained as if it were my sister's fault.

"That's a disaster?"

"She came down with . . . Beau, what was that stupid disease again?"

He smiled at me.

"Encepha something," I said after pretending to listen.

"She's in a coma and I had to take the baby home with me."

"Baby?"

"My sister's baby."

"You're taking care of a baby?" she asked, astonished.

"Until I hire someone," I said petulantly.