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"She looks fine," my father said. "I'm very proud of the way you're adjusting now, Ruby, very proud."

Daphne glared at him.

"You and I haven't been to Arnaud's in months," she remarked.

"Well, I'll make a note of that and we'll go soon. We don't want to go the same night Ruby does. It might make her uncomfortable," he added. She continued to glare.

"I'm glad you're worried about her discomfort, Pierre. Maybe you'll start thinking about mine now," she said, and he reddened.

"Go on upstairs, Ruby," she commanded. "I'll be right up to choose your clothes."

"Thank you," I said. I glanced quickly at my father who looked like a little boy who had just been reprimanded, and then I hurriedly left and went up to my room. Why was it that every nice thing that happened to me here always brought along some unpleasantness? I wondered.

Shortly afterward, Daphne came marching into my room.

"You have a two o'clock at the beauty parlor," she said, going to my closet. She threw open the sliding doors and stood back, considering. "I'm glad I thought to buy this," she said, plucking a dress from its hanger, "and the matching shoes." She turned and looked at me. "You're going to need a pair of earrings. I'll let you borrow one of mine and a necklace, too, just so you don't look underdressed."

"Thank you," I said.

"Take special care with them," she warned. She put the dress aside and focused her gaze on me with suspicion again. "Why is Beau taking you to dinner?"

"Why? I don't know. He said he wanted to take me. I didn't ask him to take me, if that's what you mean," I replied.

"No, that's not what I mean. He and Gisselle have been seeing each other for some time now. You come onto the scene and suddenly, he leaves her. What's been going on between you and Beau?" she demanded.

"Going on? I don't know what you mean, Mother."

"Young men, especially young men of Beau's age, are rather sexually driven," she explained. "Their hormones are raging so they look for girls who are more promiscuous, more obliging."

"I'm not one of those girls," I snapped.

"Whether it's true or not," she continued, "Cajun girls have reputations."

"It's not true. The truth is," I fumed, "so-called Creole girls of good breeding are more promiscuous."

"That's ridiculous and I don't want to hear you say such a thing," she replied firmly. I looked down. "I warn you," she continued, "if you did or if you do anything to embarrass me, embarrass the Dumas . . ."

I wrapped my arms around myself and turned away so she couldn't see the tears that clouded my eyes.

"Be ready at one-thirty to go to the beauty parlor," she finally said, and left me trembling with frustration and anger. Was it always going to be this way? Every time I accomplished something or something nice happened to me, she would decide it was because of some indecent reason?

It wasn't until Beau called at noon that I felt better about myself and the promise of the evening. He repeated how much he wanted to take me and was very happy to hear I could go.

"I'll pick you up at seven," he said. "What color is your dress?"

"It's red, like the red dress Gisselle wore to the Mardi Gras Ball."

"Great. See you at seven."

Why he wanted to know the color of my dress didn't occur to me until he came to the door at seven with the corsage of baby white roses. He looked dashing and handsome in his tuxedo. Daphne made a point to appear when Edgar in-formed me Beau had arrived.

"Good evening, Daphne," he said.

"Beau. You look very handsome," she said.

"Thank you." He turned to me and presented the corsage. "You look great," he said. I saw how nervous he was under Daphne's scrut

inizing gaze. His fingers trembled as he opened the box and took out the corsage. "Maybe you'd better put this on her, Daphne. I don't want to stick her."