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"Don't worry," he said, moving closer. "It will be all right."

"It will never be all right," I moaned. "I try to keep busy so I won't think about Jimmy and Fern and what's happened to them." I looked up at him hopefully. "Have you heard anything? Do you know any-thing?"

"No. Sorry. Oh, before I forget, regards from Mr. Moore. He says no matter what, you must continue with your music. He said to tell you he wants to come hear you sing at Carnegie Hall someday."

I smiled for the first time in a long time.

"I haven't felt much like singing or playing piano these days."

"You will. After a while. Dawn," Philip said, this time seizing my hand and holding on to it tightly. He went on, his eyes soft as they saw my distress. "It's not all that easy forgetting about you the way you were, even when I see you here."

"I know," I said, looking down.

"No one can blame me, can blame you for feeling the way we do about each other. Let's just keep it our secret," he said. I looked up surprised. His eyes darkened with sincerity. "As far as I'm concerned, you're still the most beautiful girl I have ever met."

He pressed my hand more firmly and drew close as though he wanted me to kiss him on the lips. What did he expect me to do? To say?

I pulled my hand out of his and stepped back. "Thank you, Philip, but we have to try to think of each other differently now. Everything's changed." He looked disappointed.

"This isn't easy for me, either, you know," he said sharply. "I know you've suffered, but I've suffered, too. You can't imagine what it was like at school," he added, his forehead creasing. Then, easy as a mask to take off, he threw away his anger and put on his dreamy-eyed romantic look.

"But whenever I grew sad about it, I forced myself to think about all the wonderful things you and I could do here at Cutler's Cove. I meant what I said before. I want to show you the hotel and the grounds and the town and catch you up on our family history," he said, his voice full of energy and excitement.

"Thank you," I said. "I'll look forward to that," I added. He stepped back, still holding that sexy smile, but for me it was as if we were gazing at each other over a great valley, the distance between us widening and widening until the Philip I had known dwindled into a memory and burst like a soap bubble. He was gone. Then the gap dwindled, and he was replaced by this new Philip, my older brother.

Good-bye to my first and what I thought would be my most wonderful romantic love, I thought. Goodbye to being swept off my feet and floating alongside warm, soft white clouds. Our passionate kisses shattered and fell with the raindrops, and no one could tell which were my tears and which were the drops of rain.

Four elderly men came in and took up seats at a corner table. They were there for their daily game of gin rummy. Philip and I watched them for a moment and then turned back to each other.

"Well, I'd better get to my unpacking. I haven't even seen Mother yet. I can just imagine how this has all left her—headaches, nervous breakdowns." He shook his head. Then he laughed. "I wish I was here when she first set eyes on you. That must have been something. You can tell me all about it later, when we're alone," he said, his eyebrows rising.

"I'll start working with dinner tonight. Everybody's a slave driver around here. I'll come looking for you as soon as I get free," he said as he backed away, "and we'll go for a walk or something. Okay?"

"Okay."

He turned and hurried off. I stared after him a moment and then returned to my work.

Afterward I returned to my room as usual to rest. The rain had settled into a steady drizzle, and my room was dingy and dark, even though I had the lamp on. I waited for Philip and listened keenly for footsteps in the corridor. Soon I heard some and looked up expectantly when the door was opened. It was Clara Sue. For a moment we just glared at each other. Then she brought her hands to her hips and smirked, shaking her head.

"I can't believe it. I just can't believe it," she said.

"Hello, Clara Sue." Accepting her as my sister was a hard pill to swallow, but what choice did I have?

"You don't know how embarrassing all this was for me and Philip at school!" she exclaimed, widening her eyes.

"I've already spoken to Philip. I know about the gossip he had to endure, but—"

"Gossip?" She laughed, hard and mirthless; then her face turned hard, determined. "That was only part of it. He sat in a corner by himself and refused to have anything to do with anybody. But I wasn't going to let this spoil my fun," she said, coming a little farther into the room. She looked at the bland walls and the window without any curtains to warm them. "This used to be Bertha's room, my black nanny. Only it was a lot nicer then."

"I haven't had a chance to decorate," I said dryly. She stepped back quickly when she saw some of her hand-me-downs on my bed.

"Hey, isn't that one of my blouses and one of my skirts?"

"Mrs. Boston brought it to me after she cleaned up your room."

"What kind of people did you live with? Ugh. Stealing babies. No wonder you looked so . . . unwashed and Jimmy was so goofy."

"Jimmy wasn't goofy," I snapped. "And I never looked unwashed. I admit we were poor, but we were not dirty. I said I didn't have much clothing, but what I did have, I cleaned and washed regularly." She shrugged as if I couldn't say anything that would dispute her statements.