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ou already have--for you do look like a street prostitute, and certainly you must know that. Usually you have very good taste. Why did you select that thing?"

"Momma!" she wailed, "you're making me feel bad!"

Bart stepped toward her, his expression very threatening. Instantly Melodie moved between them, spreading her slender white arms before she turned pleadingly to Bart. "Can't you see she's only doing this to annoy you? Stay calm, or else you will give Cindy exactly the satisfaction she wants."

Turning, she said to Cindy in a cool but authoritative voice, "Cindy, you have achieved the shock effects you wanted. So why don't you go back upstairs and put on that pretty blue dress you started to wear in the first place?"

Bart ignored both Chris and me as he strode to seize Cindy, but she pranced away out of his reach, turning to teasingly mock him for being slow and not as agile as she was, even hobbled as she was in that slim, straight, tight skirt. I could have slapped Cindy when I heard her say silkily, "Bart, darling, I was so sure you'd love this scarlet gown . . . since you think I'm a cheap, trashy thing, anyway, I'm just living up to your expectations-- and playing the role you wrote for me."

In one flashing bound he reached her. His open palm slammed against her cheek.

The pain in his hard slap rocked Cindy backward so that she sat down very hard on the second stair step. I heard the skirt of her red gown rip down the midback seam. Moving quickly, I hurried to help her up. Tears came to Cindy's eyes.

Hurriedly standing, Cindy backed up the stairs, struggling to maintain dignity. "You are a creep, brother Bart. A weird pervert who doesn't know what the real world is about. I bet you're a virgin, or else gay!"

The rage on Bart's face sent her scurrying up the stairs in a hurry, I moved to prevent Bart from following Cindy, but he was too quick.

Ruthlessly he shoved me aside, so I, too, almost fell. Crying like a chastised child, Cindy disappeared with Bart close at her heels.

In a distant hall, I faintly heard Bart shout, "How dare you try to embarrass me? You're the trashy one I've had to protect from all the dirty stories I hear about you. I used to think they lied. Now you've proved yourself exactly what they said you were! As soon as this party is over, I don't ever want to see you again!"

"AS IF I WANT TO SEE YOU!" she screamed. "I HATE YOU, BART! HATE YOU!"

I heard her scream, the wailing cries . . . I started to head up the stairs while Chris tried to restrain me. Tugging free, I had climbed five steps when Bart appeared with a satisfied smirk on his handsome but momentarily evil face. He whispered as he passed, "I just gave her what you never did--a thorough spanking. If she can sit for a week

comfortably, she's got an ass made of iron."

I glanced backward in time to see Joel scowl at the use of that word.

Ignoring Joel for a change, smiling like the perfect host, Bart arranged us into a receiving line, and soon guests began to arrive. Bart introduced all of us to people I hadn't known he knew. I was amazed at the style he showed, the poise, the ease with which he handled everyone and made them welcome. His college chums came flocking in, as if to see all that he'd told them about. If Cindy hadn't put on that horrible dress, I could have really felt proud of Bart. As it was, I was baffled, believing Bart could be anything that suited his purpose.

Right now he was set on charming everyone. And he succeeded, even more than Jory, who obviously and wisely intended to take a back seat and allow Bart to shine. Melodie stayed close at her husband's side, clinging to his hand, his arm, looking pale,, unhappy. I was so absorbed in watching Bart perform that I was startled when someone tugged on my arm. It was Cindy, wearing the modest little blue silk sheath I'd chosen for her. She looked sweetsixteen-and-never-been-kissed. I scolded, "Really, Cindy, you can't blame Bart. This time you deserved a spanking."

She choked out, "Damn him to hell! I'll show him! I'll dance ten times better than Melodie has ever danced! I'll make every man at this party want me tonight, despite this deadly mousey gown you chose." "You don't mean that, Cindy."

Softening, she fell into my arms. "No, Momma, I don't mean that."

Bart saw Cindy with me, raked his eyes over her girlish gown, smiled sarcastically and then came our way.

Cindy stood taller.

"Now, listen, Cindy. You'll put on your costume when the time comes and forget anything happened between us. You'll perform your part to perfection--okay?"

Playfully he pinched her cheek. So playfully his pinch left a deep red indentation on her face. She squealed and kicked out. Her high heel dug into his shin. He yelped and slapped her.

"Bart!" I hissed, "stop! Don't you hurt her again! You've done enough for one night!"

Chris yanked Bart away from Cindy. "Now, I've had enough of this idiocy," he said angrily, and Chris seldom angered. "You've invited to this party some of the most important people in Virginia--now show them you know how to behave."

Pulling roughly away from Chris, Bart glared at him, then strode away, very fast, without a comment. I smiled at Chris, and with him beside me, we headed for the gardens. Jory and Melodie took Cindy and began introducing her to some of the young people who'd come with their parents. There were many there, that Bart had met through Jory and Melodie, who had hordes of friends and fans.

I could only hope for the best.

Samson and Delilah

. Golden globes everywhere lit up the night, and the moon rode high in a cloudless, starry sky. Out on the lawn were dozens of buffet tables butted together to form a huge U. On these tables food was placed in large silver dishes. A fountain sprayed imported champagne into the air, then trickled it into layered pools that ran into tiny spigots. On the middle table was a huge ice sculpture of Foxworth Hall.

Besides the main tables laden with all that money could buy were dozens of small round and square individual tables covered with brilliant cloths--green over rose, turquoise over violet, yellow over orange and other striking combinations. The tablecloths were kept from blowing by heavy garlands of flowers festooned around them.