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"That's not the point now, is it?" She sat back again and fixed her gaze on me with those cold steel e

yes. "I know your kind," she said disdainfully.

Daring her scorn, I fired back: "Why do you keep saying things like that? I'm not a 'kind.' I'm a person, an individual, just like anyone else who attends this school."

She laughed. "Hardly," she said. "You are the only girl with a rather depraved background. Not one of my other girls has a blemish on her family history. In fact, over eighty percent of the girls in this school come from families that can trace their lineage back to one of the hundred Fines a la Cassette or 'Casket Girls' who were originally brought to Louisiana."

"My father can trace his lineage back to them too," I said, even though I didn't place any value on such a thing.

"But your mother was a Cajun. Why, she was probably of questionable mixed blood. No," she continued, shaking her head, "I know your kind, your type. Your bad behavior is more insidious, subtle. You learn quickly who are the most vulnerable, who have certain weaknesses, and you play to those weaknesses, like some sort of swamp parasite," she added. My face flushed so hot I thought the top of my head would blow off. But before I could respond, she added what I realized was her real reason for calling me in.

"Just like you somehow managed to take advantage of my poor cousin Louis and get yourself a dinner invitation to my aunt's home."

The blood started to drain from my face.

"That's not true," I said.

"Not true?" She smiled coyly. "Many young women have dreamed of winning Louis's heart and becoming the one who would inherit this vast fortune, this school, all this property. A young blind man is hardly a catch otherwise, is he? But he is vulnerable. That's why we have been so careful about who he has as company up to this point.

"Unfortunately, you managed to make an impression on him without my aunt's knowledge, but don't think anything will come of it," she warned.

"That was never my intention. I didn't even want to go to dinner at the mansion," I added. She widened her eyes with surprise, her lips curled in a skeptical smile. "I didn't, but I felt sorry for Louis and . ."

"You felt sorry for Louis? You?" She laughed coldly. "Don't worry about Louis," she said. "He'll be just fine."

"No he won't. It's wrong to keep him encased in that house like a caterpillar in a cocoon. He needs to meet people . . . especially young women and--"

"How dare you have the impudence and audacity to suggest what is pod for my cousin and what is not! I will not tolerate another syllable from your lips about him, is that clear? Is it?" she shrilled.

I looked away, my eyes burning with tears of anger and frustration.

"Now then," she continued, "now that it is well known on this campus, I'm sure, that you have violated section seventeen of our behavior code, it is appropriate that you be punished. Such a violation carries twenty demerits, which automatically invokes a two-week denial of all social privileges. However, since this is your first real offense and since your teacher bears some of the blame, I will limit the punishment to one week. From today until the end of the sentence, you are to report directly back to your dorm after school hours and to remain there throughout the weekend. If you violate this for so much as one minute, I will have no alternative but to expel you from Greenwood, which I am sure will impact on your poor crippled sister as well," she said.

Icy tears streamed down my cheeks. My lips quivered and my throat felt as if I had swallowed a lump of coal.

"You can return to your class now," she concluded, slapping the handbook shut.

I stood up, my legs wobbly. I wanted to shout back at her, to defy her, to tell her what I really thought of her, but all I could see was Daddy's disappointed face and hear the deep sadness in his voice. This was just what Daphne would like, I thought. It would reaffirm her accusations about me and make life even more difficult for Daddy. So I swallowed back my indignation and pain and left her office.

For the remainder of the day, I felt numb. It was as if my heart had turned to cold stone. I went through the motions, did my work, took my notes, and walked from class to class with my eyes fixed ahead, not looking from left to right, not interested in any conversations.

At lunch I told Abby what had happened.

"I'm so disappointed in Mrs. Penny," I concluded. "She must have been frightened into it," Abby said. "I suppose I can't blame her. The Iron Lady could scare the tail off an alligator."

Abby laughed.

"I won't go anywhere this weekend either," she told me. "You don't have to do that: to punish yourself unfairly just because I'm being punished unfairly."

"I want to. I bet you'd do it for me," she added wisely. I tried to deny it, but she just laughed as if I were speaking gibberish. "Besides, I don't consider spending time with you a punishment," she put in. I smiled, my heart full at making such a good friend so quickly.

But when I entered the art studio for my last class of the day, I felt as if I had swallowed a cup full of tadpoles. Miss Stevens took one look at me and hurried over to my desk.

"Don't worry," she whispered. "I'll be all right. Actually, I'm sorrier that I got you in trouble than I am about myself."

"That's how I feel about you."

She laughed. "I guess we'll have to take Louis's advice and start painting the lake, since that's on school grounds. Until you get your parents'