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"Okay, good." Then she took the jar from me and smothered the fire. "Now you'll be fine. It's good you do what I say and don't laugh at me.

"But I remember you said your grandmere was a Traiteur woman, right?"

"Yes."

"That's good for you, but remember," she warned, "the evil spirits look to go into holy folk first. That is more of a victory." I nodded.

"Has anyone else ever heard sobbing upstairs, Nina?" I asked.

"It is no good to talk about it. Speak of the devil and he'll come through your door smiling and smoking a long, thin black cigar.

"Now we go back. Madame will come down soon for her breakfast," she told me.

I followed her out again and sure enough, when I re-entered the dining room, I found Daphne dressed and seated at the table.

"Did you have your breakfast?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Where's Gisselle?"

"I guess she's still upstairs," I said. Daphne grimaced.

"This is ridiculous. Why isn't she up and about like the rest of us?" she said, even though she had just risen herself. "Go up and tell her I want her down here immediately, please."

"Yes, madame," I said and hurried up the stairs. I knocked softly on Gisselle's door and then opened it to find her on her side, still asleep and still dressed in the clothes she had worn last night.

"Gisselle, Daphne wants you to wake up and come down," I said, but she didn't move. "Gisselle." I nudged her shoulder. She moaned and turned over, quickly closing her eyes again. "Gisselle."

"Go away," she cried.

"Daphne wants you to--"

"Leave me alone. I feel horrible. My head is killing me and my stomach feels raw inside."

"I told you this would happen. You drank too much too fast," I said.

"Goody for you," she said, her eyes still shut tight.

What should I tell Daphne?" She didn't respond. "Gisselle?"

"I don't care. Tell her I died," she said, and pulled the pillow over her head. I stared at her for a moment and saw she wasn't going to budge.

Daphne didn't like my report.

"What do you mean she won't get up?" She slapped the coffee cup down so hard on the saucer, I thought it would shatter. "What did you two do last night?" she demanded, her eyes burning with suspicion.

"We just . . . talked to Beau and his friend Martin," I said. "Out by the pool"

"Just talked?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Call me Mother or call me Daphne, but don't call me ma'am. It makes me sound years older than I am," she snapped.

"I'm sorry.. . Mother."

She stared at me furiously a moment and then got up and marched out of the dining room, leaving me standing there with my heart thumping. I didn't lie exactly, I thought. I just didn't tell the whole truth, but if I had, I would have gotten Gisselle into trouble. Even so, I felt bad about it. I wasn't happy about being sneaky and deceptive. Daphne was so upset she pounded her way upstairs.