"I'm happy you girls could come to see me," she declared and then stood up. Leaning on her cane, she continued. "I'm sorry you have to be going, but I know you young women have things to do. I will ask you all up here again soon, I'm sure. In the meantime, work hard and remember to distinguish yourselves by being proper Greenwood girls." She started out, clicking her cane over the marble, that stopped watch dangling on the chain around her neck like a small but hefty burden she was sentenced to carry the rest of her life.

"Come along, girls," Mrs. Penny said. She looked very pleased. "It was a nice afternoon, wasn't it?"

"I nearly got a heart attack from the excitement," Gisselle said, but she looked at me suspiciously, curious about where I had been and why my mood had changed too. I wheeled her out, and Buck came hurrying up the steps to help get her over the portico. Once again he lifted her gently out of the chair, only this time she deliberately saw to it that her lips grazed his cheeks. He shifted a quick gaze at Abby and me, and especially at Mrs. Penny, to see if we'd seen what Gisselle had done. Both of us pretended we hadn't, and Mrs. Penny was too oblivious to have noticed. He looked relieved.

Once we were all inside the car, Abby asked me where I had been so long.

"I met a very interesting but very sad young man," I said. Mrs. Penny gasped. "You went into the west side of the house?"

"Yes, why?"

"I never let the girls go there. Oh dear, if Mrs. Clairborne finds out. I forgot to tell you not to venture off like that."

"Why aren't we permitted to go into the west wing?" Abby asked.

"That's the most private area, where she and her grandson really reside," Mrs. Penny replied.

"Grandson?" Gisselle looked at me. "Is that who you met?"

"Yes."

"How old is he? What does he look like? What's his name?" she followed quickly. "Why wasn't he invited to the tea? At least that would have made it more interesting. Unless he was as ugly as she was."

"He told me his name was Louis. He's blind, but he wasn't always that way. What happened to him, Mrs. Penny?"

"Oh dear," she said instead of replying. "Oh dear, dear."

"Oh stop and just tell us what happened," Gisselle commanded.

"He became blind after his parents died," she said quickly. "He's not only blind but he suffers from melancholia. He usually doesn't speak to anyone. He has been that way ever since the deaths of his parents. He was only fourteen years old at the time. A great tragedy."

"Was Mrs. Clairborne's daughter Louis's mother?" Gisselle asked.

"Yes," Mrs. Penny replied quickly.

"What's melancholia?" she followed. Mrs. Penny didn't respond. "A disease or what?"

"It's a deep mental depression, a sadness that takes over your body. People can actually pine away," Abby said softly.

Gisselle stared at her a moment. "You mean . . die of heartbreak?"

"Yes."

"That's so stupid. Does this boy ever come out?" Gisselle asked Mrs. Penny.

"He's not a boy, dear. He's about thirty now. But to answer your question, he doesn't come out much, no. Mrs. Clairborne sees to his needs and insists he not be disturbed. But please, please," she begged, "let us not dwell on this anymore. Mrs. Clairborne doesn't like it discussed."

"Maybe she's why he's so sad," Gisselle offered. "Having to live with her." Mrs. Penny gasped.

"Stop it, Gisselle," I said. "Don't tease her."

"I'm not teasing her," she insisted, but I saw the tiny smile sitting comfortably in the corners of her mouth. "Did he tell you how his parents died?" she asked me.

"No. I didn't know they had. We didn't speak very long." Gisselle directed herself at Mrs. Penny again.

"How did his parents die?" she pursued. When Mrs. Penny didn't reply, she demanded an answer. "Can't you tell us how they died?"

"It's not a fit subject for us to discuss," Mrs. Penny snapped, her face firm. It was the first time we had seen her so adamant. It was clear the answer wasn't coming from her lips.

"Well, why did you start telling us the story then?" Gisselle said. "It's not fair to start something and not finish."

"I didn't start anything. You insisted on knowing why he was blind. Oh dear. This is the first time any of my girls have wandered into the west wing."

"He didn't seem to mind all that much, Mrs. Penny," I said.

"That's remarkable," she said. "He's never spoken to any of the Greenwood girls before."

"He plays the piano beautifully."

"Whatever you do, don't gossip about him with the other girls, please. Please," she added.

"I don't gossip, Mrs. Penny. I wouldn't do anything to get you in trouble."

"Good. Let's not talk about it anymore. Please. Did you all enjoy the little cakes?"

"Oh, damn," Gisselle said. "I forgot to take some for Chubs." She stared at me a moment, and then she looked at Abby and nodded. "I want to speak to you two as soon as we're alone," she ordered. Then she fixed her gaze on Buck all the way back to the dorm.

Once Mrs. Penny had left us inside, Gisselle spun around in her chair and demanded to know how we knew Buck. I explained about our walk to the boathouse that first night.

"He lives there?"

"Apparently."

"And that's all? That was the only time you saw him?" she asked, obviously disappointed.

"And once mowing the lawn," I said.

She thought a moment. "He's cute, but he's just an employee here. Still," she said thoughtfully, "he's the only game in town right now."

"Gisselle. You stay away from him and don't get him in any trouble."

"Yes, darling sister. Now you tell us about this blind grandson and what really went on between you two or I'll be the one who spreads the gossip and gets Mrs. Penny in trouble," she threatened.

I sighed and shook my head.

"You're impossible, Gisselle. I told you everything. I heard the music, looked into the room, and spoke to him for a few minutes. That was all."

"Did he tell you how his parents died?"

"No."

"Well, what do you think happened?" she asked.

"I don't know, but it must have been something horrible." Abby agreed.

"Well now," Gisselle said, smiling from ear to ear, "at least we have something to find out and something to hold over Mrs. Penny if she ever so much as threatens us with a demerit."

"Stop it, Gisselle. And don't start anything with your fan club either," I said, but I might as well have been talking to myself. The moment the other girls set eyes on us, Gisselle was ready to tell all, from Buck to Mrs. Clairborne's grandson.

Alone back in our room, after we had taken off our nice clothes and put on jeans and sweatshirts, I did tell Abby more about Louis. We lay on our stomachs, side by side on my bed.

"He doesn't think much of Greenwood girls," I explained. "He thinks Mrs. Ironwood and his grandmother turn us all into puppets."

"He might not be too far off thinking that. You heard Mrs. Clairborne's speech about the traditions we must uphold and how we must behave."

"Did you notice that all the clocks were stopped, even the watch around her neck?"

"No," Abby said. "Were they?"

"All at the same hour and minute: at five after two."

"How strange."

"I was going to ask Mrs. Penny about it, but when she became so agitated over my side trip and my meeting Louis, I decided not to add anymore pepper to the gumbo."

Abby laughed.

"What?"

"Every once in a while your Cajun background sneaks back," she said.

"I know. Louis could detect my accent and knew I was from the bayou. He was surprised I was permitted to enroll, considering I wasn't a true blueblood."

"What do you suppose would happen to me if they found out the truth about my past?" Abby said.

"And what truth is that?" Gisselle demanded.

We both spun around and gasped at the sight of her in our doorway. We were so engrossed in our conversation that we hadn't heard her open the door—or else, knowing her, she had opened it softly just so she could spy on us. She wheeled herself into the room, and I sat up in my bed.

"Having a heart to heart, girls?" she teased.

"You should knock before coming in here, Gisselle. You want your privacy, I'm sure."

"I thought you'd be happy to have me come by. I happen to have found out the story of poor Louis," she said, smiling her Cheshire cat smile. Actually, she reminded me more of the sort of muskrat Grandpère Jack trapped.

"And how did you do that?"

"Jacki knew. Seems it isn't all as big a secret as Mrs. Penny pretended. There are skeletons in Mrs. Clairborne's closets," she sang gleefully.

"What sort of skeletons?" Abby asked.

"What's your secret first?"

"Secret?"

"The thing you don't want Mrs. Ironwood to discover about you. Come on, I heard what you said."

"It's nothing," Abby said, her face turning crimson.

"If it's nothing, tell it. Tell it or I'll . . I'll make up something."

"Gisselle!"

"Well, it's a fair trade. I'll tell you what I learned, but you've got to tell me something too. I just knew you'd share secrets with her and not with your own twin sister. You probably told her things about us too."

"I did not." I looked at Abby, whose face was drooping with sadness, both for me and for herself. "All right, we'll tell," I said. Abby's eyes widened. "Gisselle can keep a secret. Can't you?"

"Of course. I know more secrets than you'll ever know, especially about the kids back in our old school, even secrets about Beau," she added happily.

I thought a moment and then blurted something I knew Gisselle would accept.

"Abby was suspended once for being caught with a boy in the basement of one of her previous schools," I said. Abby's surprise worked perfectly, because it looked like I had betrayed her. Gisselle gazed from her to me skeptically for a moment and then laughed.

"Big deal," she said. "Unless," she added, "you were naked when you were caught. Were you?"

Abby looked to me for a moment and then shook her head. "No, not completely."

"Not completely? How much then? Did you take off your blouse?" Abby nodded. "Your bra?" Abby nodded again. Gisselle looked impressed. "What else?"

"That's all," Abby said quickly.

"Well, well, little Miss Goody Goody isn't so pure after all."

"Gisselle, remember, you promised."

"Oh, who cares? That's not enough to interest anyone anyway," she said. She thought a moment and then smiled. "Now I suppose you want me to tell you why Louis is blind and what happened to his parents."

"You said you would," I replied.

She hesitated, enjoying her hold over us. "Maybe later, if I feel like it," she said and spun herself around in her chair and wheeled herself out of our room.

"Gisselle!" Abby cried.

"Oh, let her go, Abby," I said. "She'll just tease us and tease us."

But I couldn't help wondering myself what it was that had turned that handsome young man into a blind, melancholy soul, revealing his feelings and thoughts only through his fingers on the keys of a piano.


6

  A Surprising Invitation

Despite my having enough curiosity to fill the eyes of a dozen cats, I didn't give Gisselle the satisfaction of pleading with her to tell us what she had found out, and I certainly didn't go to Jacki. But as it turned out, I didn't have to beg anyone in Gisselle's fan club.

Right after breakfast the next morning, I was called to the telephone to speak to my art teacher, Miss Stevens.

"I was on my way out today to do some work and thought of you," she said. "I know this place just of the highway where we can get a wonderful view of the river. Would you like to come along?"

"Oh yes, I would."

"Fine. It's a bit overcast, but the weatherman guarantees us it will clear up shortly and warm up another ten degrees. I'm just wearing a sweatshirt and jeans," she said.

"So am I."

"Then you're ready. I’ll be by in ten minutes to pick you up. Don't worry about supplies: I have everything we'll need in the car."

"Thank you."

I was so excited by the prospect of drawing and painting scenes in nature again that I nearly bowled Vicki over in the corridor. She had her arms filled with books she had just taken out of the library.

"Where are you going so fast?" she asked.

"Painting . . . with my teacher . . . sorry."

I hurried into our room and told Abby, who was curled up on her bed reading her social studies assignment.