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Now wearing the proper dress and looking my best became so very important. I could think of nothing else. I finally settled on my pink chiffon with a waist bow on the back. I had hesitated because of the spaghetti straps. I still thought my shoulders looked too bony, but I decided I would wear a lace shawl as well and keep it on if I felt too selfconscious.

Winterhaven was hosting the dance.

Downstairs, the decorating committee had removed most of the tables from the large dining room. The rugs had been rolled and put aside. Colorful streamers and festive paper decorations had been hung from the ceiling, and spinning where a more sedate chandelier had once hung was a large, mirrored ball. I would have never believed that a room which was sunny and bright by day, since it faced east and south, could be converted into a passable ballroom.

With Marie leading the way, jabbering on and on about the balls she attended in Paris, the "special club" marched down. The night before Marie had given us all a lecture about the boys of Allandale, emphasizing that most were very rich and

sophisticated. Her advice was to be coy, let the boy do most of the talking, pretend to be impressed, and bat our eyelashes. She even demonstrated the way women called "femmes fatales" would do it. She said they were beautiful but dangerous women who usually destroyed the hearts of the men who fell in love with them. Marie knew boys from Allandale well and claimed some deserved to have their hearts broken. I hoped Joshua John Bennington wasn't one of those. Neither Jennifer nor I had told the others about him and William Matthews. We wanted to surprise them with our little secret.

By the time we arrived, the music had already begun; the band was playing "Rock Around the Clock." Some of the balloons had broken free and were floating over the center of the dance floor. All of the other boys from Allandale were standing in a herd across the room, some sipping punch, others standing and gazing at us with cool eyes and placid smiles, each deciding who he was going to ask to dance.

The eyes of the other girls in our club popped when a tall, blond-haired boy with fair skin and blue eyes came across the room quickly to greet Jennifer.

"Leigh," Jennifer said taking William's hand and turning him to me. "This is William Matthews. William, Leigh Van Voreen."

"I'm pleased to meet you," he said extending his hand. I thought he had a pleasant face with soft, gentle features, and I was very happy for Jennifer. Behind us, the members of the "special club" were whispering madly.

"I'm pleased to meet you."

"My roommate is standing over by the punch bowl shivering in terror," William said.

"Oh, William, don't tease him," Jennifer said. "Or Leigh," she added with wide eyes.

"Ladies," William Matthews said holding his arms out to escort both of us to the punch bowl. I took his left arm, gazed back once at the amazed "special club," and walked across the floor. A tall, blackhaired boy with a very tanned face and bright hazelgreen eyes looked up. I thought he was very handsome with a quiet, underlying manliness that made my heart flutter. There was a tenderness in his gaze, but the way he glanced at me with his eyes moving rapidly over me, scooping me in, titillated me. I felt a tingling sensation through my spine.

"Leigh," William said with a little more force and volume than necessary, "this is my roommate, Joshua John Bennington, the famous telephone conversationalist." He followed that with a laugh and Jennifer poked him in the shoulder.

Joshua swung his eyes toward the ceiling and shook his head.

"I'm sorry my roommate is such a clown," he said and extended his hand. "Pleased to meet you."

"Me, too," I said and almost bit my lip to prevent myself from uttering that infantile phrase again. "I mean . . ." "Jen and I are going to dance while you two get acquainted," William said. "Be careful, Leigh, there is a mile-long trail of discarded women behind him. Joshua, you're on your own," he warned and winked. Then he took Jennifer onto the dance floor. I watched them for a moment.

"He's a good dancer," I said.

"William's good at most everything he does. He's one of those perfectly accomplished guys who makes the rest of us feel inferior," Joshua said.

"Oh," I said quickly, "you have no reason to feel inferior." Even I was surprised at how

enthusiastically I had said it. He widened his eyes and his smile.

"Don't believe that story about discarded women. I didn't even attend one of the dances last year," he confessed.

"You didn't? Neither did I."

"Really?" He smiled, his eyes more relaxed. "Some punch?" he offered.

"Yes, please."

After he poured me a glass, we went to a bench to sit and talk. I learned that his father was an estates attorney, that he had two brothers and a sister, and he lived just outside of Boston. His family had a home in West Palm Beach, Florida, as well as a beach ho

use on Cape Cod. Once he started to talk about himself, he never stopped. Every once in a while, I looked toward the "special club." Some had found partners and were dancing. Toby and Betsy hadn't and were staring at me with daggers of envy.

He asked me where I lived and I told him about Farthy. He had heard of Tatterton Toys, but his family didn't own any. When I mentioned Tony, I said "stepfather," but Joshua didn't ask me about my real father or why my mother had remarried. I thought that was very courteous.

We danced, ate the refreshments, and danced some more. Jennifer and William were with us most of the time. Finally, when she couldn't hold back any longer, she asked me to go to the girls' room with her. The door wasn't closed behind us before she blurted out with her questions.

"Do you like him? Are you having a good time? What's he like?"