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She nodded. "What else?"

"I get dizzy once in a while, just be walking along and things start to spin on me."

"I see. I assume you keep track of your period," she said, "and at least have an approximate idea of when it should arrive."

My heart stopped.

"You've missed one?" she asked quickly when she saw the look on my face.

"Yes, but . . . that's happened to me

occasionally before."

"Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately and noticed any changes in your body, especially your breasts?" she asked.

I had noticed tiny new blood vessels, but I told her I thought that was because I was still developing. She shook her head.

"You're about as developed as you're going to be," she said. "I'm afraid it sounds like you're pregnant, Ruby," she declared. "Only you know if t

hat's a possibility. Is it?"

I felt as if she had dowsed me with a pail of ice water. For a moment my whole body became numb, and the muscles in my face wouldn't work. I couldn't reply. I didn't think my heart was even beating. It was as if I had turned to stone right before her eyes. "Ruby?" she asked again.

And I just started to cry.

"Oh dear," she said. "You poor dear."

She put her arm around me and led me to one of the cots. She told me to lie down and rest. I remember that as I lay there burying myself with a mountain of self-pity, hating Fate, cursing Destiny, I wondered why love was made to be so wonderful if it could put me in such a state of affairs. It seemed like a cruel joke had been played on me, but of course, I had no one to blame but myself. I didn't even blame Beau, knowing somehow that I had had the power to say no, to turn him away, but had chosen not to do so.

A little while later, after my crying had subsided, Mrs. Miller pulled up a chair beside me and sat down.

"We'll have to inform your family," she said. "This is a very personal problem, and you and your family will have to make some important decisions."

"Please," I said, seizing her hand, "don't tell anyone."

"I won't tell anyone but your family and, of course, Mrs. Ironwood."

"No, please. I don't want anyone to know just yet."

"I can't do that. It's too much of a responsibility, dear. Surely after the initial shock, your family will give you support, and you and your family will make the right decisions."

"Decisions?" There seemed to be only one decision--suicide, or at least running away.

"Whether to have the baby, to have an abortion, to inform the father. . . decisions. So you see, there's too much responsibility for us to keep it a secret. Others have to know. If we didn't tell them, we would be remiss. I would be irresponsible and certainly held to account. The least that would happen is I would be fired."

"Oh, I don't want that, Mrs. Miller. I'm already responsible for one person losing her job here. I don't want another person on my conscience. Of course, do what you have to do and don't worry about me," I said.

"Now, now, dear. We'll still worry about you. Other girls have been in this predicament, you know. It's not the end of the world, although it might seem so to you right now." She smiled. "You'll be all right," she promised, patting my hand. "Just rest. do what has to be done and do it discreetly."

She left and I lay there, hoping the ceiling would fall in on me and cursing the day I had decided to leave the bayou.

Nearly an hour later, Mrs. Ironwood arrived with Mrs. Miller to inform me that Daphne was sending the limousine for me. I could se the glint of self-satisfaction in her eyes as she spoke.

"Get yourself together and go back to the dorm. Pack your things, all your things. You won't be coming back to Greenwood," she commanded.

"At least there's one good thing to come of this," I said.

She turned bright crimson and hoisted her shoulders. "I'm not surprised. It was only a matter of time before you destroyed yourself. Your sort always does," she snapped, then left before I could reply.