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"I'm so embarrassed, I don't know how I'll go to school," I said.

"You'll go with your head high and ignore their sneers and their laughs," he proclaimed.

"I'd like to be able to say I could do that, Beau, but--" "But nothing. I'll pick you up in the morning and we'll walk in together. But before that . ."

"What?"

"I came over here to ask you to dinner," he stated with a polite formality, pulling his shoulders back to assume his young Creole gentleman image.

"Dinner?"

"Yes, a formal dinner date," he said. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him I had never been on a dinner date before, formal or informal, but I kept silent. "I have already taken the liberty of making reservations at Arnaud's," he added with some pride. I assumed from the way he spoke, this was to be a very special evening.

"I'll have to ask my parents," I said.

"Of course." He looked at his watch. "I have a few errands to run, but I'll call you about noon to confirm the time."

"All right," I said breathlessly. A dinner date, a formal date with Beau . . . everyone would hear about this, too. He wasn't just being nice to me in school or just giving me a ride home.

"Good," he said, smiling. "I'll call you." He started away. "Beau."

"Yes?"

"You're not doing this just to make me feel better after what they did, are you?" I asked.

"What?" He started to laugh and then turned serious. "Ruby, I just want to be with you and would have asked you for a date whether they pulled that stupid joke on you or not," he declared. "Stop underestimating yourself," he added, turned and walked off leaving me in a whirlpool of mixed emotions that ranged from happiness to terror that I would make an absolute fool of myself and simply add to what had already been done to make me look like I didn't belong.

.

"What?" Daphne said, looking up sharply from her cup of coffee. "Beau asked you to dinner?"

"Yes. He's calling at noon to see if it's all right for me to go," I said. She looked at my father, who had been sitting with her on the patio, having another cup of coffee. He shrugged.

"Why is that so surprising?" he asked.

"Why? Beau has been seeing Gisselle," she replied.

"Daphne, darling, they weren't engaged. They're just teenagers. Besides," he added, beaming a smile at me, "you hoped the time would come when people would accept Ruby as one of us. Apparently, the way you've dressed her, the advice and instruction you have given her on how to carry herself and speak to people, and the good example you set has had remarkable results. You should be proud, not surprised," he added.

Daphne's eyes narrowed as she thought.

"Where is he taking you?" she asked.

"Arnaud's," I said.

"Arnaud's!" She put her coffee cup down sharply. "That's not just any restaurant. You have to wear the proper things. Many of our friends go to that restaurant and we are friendly with the owners."

"So," my father said. "You'll advise her how to dress." Daphne wiped her lip with the napkin and considered. "It's time you went to a beautician and had something done with your hair and your nails," she decided.

"What's wrong with my hair?"

"You need your bangs trimmed and I'd like to see it conditioned. I'll make an appointment for this afternoon. They always find time for me at a moment's notice," she said confidently.

"That's very nice," my father said.

"Then you've made a full recovery from your stomach problem?" Daphne asked me pointedly.

"Yes."