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"Gisselle!" I looked from Abby to Samantha and back to my sister. "We didn't do anything. I spoke to him for a few minutes, listened to him play, and left. I'm very nervous about this as it is, so please don't make it any harder. The truth is, I don't even want to go, but Mrs. Penny's made it seem like the event of the century."

"I like the light blue dress," Abby said. "It's elegant but not too formal."

"Oh, it's just perfect for a little dinner with a blind boy," Gisselle quipped, glaring at me. "You'll be up there having a feast and we'll be down here eating dorm rot."

"We don't eat rot," Abby flared.

"Obviously, you're used to it," Gisselle retorted. "Wheel me out of here, Samantha. The air is too rich for our poor nostrils."

Abby whitened and was about to sting Gisselle with some retort when I looked at her and shook my head. "Don't get yourself upset, Abby," I advised. "That's all she wants anyway."

"You're right," Abby said, and we returned to choosing my wardrobe.

The blue dress was elegant. It had a sweetheart collar that revealed just an inch or so of cleavage, but we decided that with my locket and gold chain it still looked discreet. Abby loaned me a pair of gold-leaf earrings and a gold charm bracelet. We decided I should brush my hair and pin it up. I smeared on a trace of lipstick, sprayed myself with the jasmine cologne Mrs. Penny lent me, and finally went out to wait for the car. Mrs. Penny looked me over one final time and placed her stamp of approval on my appearance.

"This is historic," she continued. "Mark every detail in your mind to remember. I can't wait to hear about it. I'll be right here waiting for you, okay?"

"Yes, Mrs. Penny," I said.

Abby smiled at me. "Have a good time," she said. "Thanks, but I'm as nervous as a jackrabbit."

"You've got nothing to worry about," Abby said, and winked. "You've still got your good luck gris-gris."

I laughed. I had hidden the dime in my shoe, but it was there.

"The station wagon's here," Mrs. Penny announced. I hurried out. Buck was waiting at the car, holding the door open for me. When he turned, his eyes widened and took on a glint of appreciation, but he said nothing. I got in and he hurried around to the driver's side. Mrs. Penny stood on the steps and waved as we drove off. After we were away, Buck turned around.

"You look very nice," he said.

"Thank you."

"I've been here only three years," he said, "but this is the first time I've taken a Greenwood girl to the mansion for dinner. Are you related to the

Clairbornes?"

"No," I said, laughing.

When we arrived at the mansion, he hurried around to open the door for me.

"Thank you," I said.

"Have a good time."

I smiled at him and hurried up the steps. The door opened for me before I reached it and Otis nodded.

"Good evening, mademoiselle," he said, bowing even deeper than usual.

"Good evening."

I entered and he closed the door.

"Right this way, mademoiselle."

He led me down the corridor and off to the right through another hallway that took us deep into the west wing and the dining room. Unlike the other sections of the house, the west wing was somber. The walls had darker paper, the windows darker drapes, and the floors darker carpet. The pictures that were hung depicted the most eerie settings on the river and in the bayou, swamps with ghostly Spanish moss that was caught swaying in the twilight breeze, and the Mississippi at one of its wider points, with the water rust-colored, the boats and ships drifting shadows of themselves. Whatever portraits I saw were portraits of austere ancestors gazing out with looks of disapproval and condemnation.

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The long dark oak table was set for three at one end. Two silver candelabra held long, bone-white lit candles, their tiny flames flickering. Above the table the chandelier was only dimly lit. Otis moved to the chair on my right and pulled it out to indicate that was where I was to sit.