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"No, this was the last dress I made for Laura," she explained. "She never got a chance to wear it."

I looked at the dress with different eyes. It took on a strangely spiritual feel, like the dress of a ghost. It was an ankle-length, straight beige silk dress with a Victorian collar that had a lace neck.

"Besides," Aunt Sara said, "we're all going to dress with extra care tonight. Olivia and Samuel are having Judge Childs as their guest. She called especially to tell me so we would all look our best. He was a state supreme court judge, you know. He's retired now, but maybe you've heard of his son, the artist Kenneth Childs."

"No." I shook my head and stared at the dress. I could almost see Laura in it.

"I just thought you might have, because you've been here a while and he's one of our most prominent sculptors. His work is in the Provincetown Artists muse-um and it's in all the good galleries."

I shook my head.

"The Childs have always been good friends with Olivia and Samuel. Kenneth practically grew up with Chester and Jacob, he was at their house so much. Judge Childs's wife died two years ago. His other sons and daughter all live in Boston. Kenneth's brothers and sister don't have much to do with him, but Kenneth was the judge's favorite even though he didn't do anything with his law degree. The judge and his wife gave him enough money to do his art. They supported him for a quite a while and there are some hard feelings in the family because of it. Jealousy, I imagine."

She sighed deeply.

"Every family has its hardships. I wanted you to know a little about it so you don't say anything out of place, if the judge asks you a question."

"Why are we always on pins and needles when we go to my grandparents', Aunt Sara?" I asked. It seemed to me that time spent with family should be the most relaxing time of all.

"Oh, we're not on pins and needles. We're just trying to do the right thing, say the right thing, look the right way. It's what--"

"What Grandma Olivia wants," I provided. "I'm surprised she has any friends at all."

"But she does! She has many friends and they all come from the best society."

"That doesn't always mean they're the best friends to have, Aunt Sara."

She smiled as if I had said something only the most inexperienced young person might utter.

"Go on, dear, try on your dress. I want to be sure it fits and there's no need for alterations," she urged.

Betty, Lorraine, and Janet's words haunted me as I took the dress down and began to take off my clothes. "We heard you're taking Laura's place in more ways than one." But what else could I do? I had nothing nicer than this to wear. Of course, none of my other things had arrived.

The dress fit a little snugly in the bosom, but other than that, it was perfect.

"I think we can get by with it as it is," Aunt Sara said, scrutinizing me, "How does it feel?"

"It's fine, Aunt Sara."

"Good, and the shoes?"

"They're fine," I said.

"Then you're all set. I'll see to May. We'll be going about five," she told me.

After she left, I stood there gazing at myself in the mirror. It was a nice dress--beautiful in fact--and at any other time, under any other circumstances, I would be happy to wear it, but right now it seemed as if I were wearing a shroud. I couldn't shake an eerie feeling.

The more I learned about Laura, the more I touched her things, read her letters, wore her clothes, the more I felt I was disturbing her peace and stirring up things better left uncovered, buried at the bottom of the sea along with her and her lover.

I was dressed, my hair brushed, and ready. Cary and Uncle Jacob had yet to return from the dock. May looked very pretty in her pink taffeta dress with matching shoes. She and I sat in the living room waiting while Aunt Sara paced nervously in the hallway. "Where are they? They have to get ready and we're going to be late."

I couldn't help wondering if something terrible had happened after Cary told his father about his being suspended. Finally, the door opened and the two entered. Cary gazed into the living room and then ran up the stairs without a word.

Uncle Jacob paused and peered in at us. He fixed his eyes on me and nodded. "I knew it wouldn't take you long to get him in trouble," he said.

"It wasn't her fault, Jacob," Aunt Sara responded. "It was that nasty Adam Jackson's fault."

"I warned you," he told her. "I warned you what it would be like having Haille's daughter."