It was midafternoon by the time she brought me back to the dorm. She kept my work, promising to bring it to the art studio for me to complete in school.
"This was fun," she said. "We'll do it again if you want to."
"Oh yes, but I can't let you pay for my lunch all the time." She laughed.
"I have to, otherwise it might be construed a bribe," she teased.
I said goodbye and ran into the dorm, where I found Mrs. Penny wringing her hands and waiting for me. Her hair was unraveled, and she was biting her lip.
"Oh, thank goodness you've returned! Thank goodness."
"What's wrong, Mrs. Penny?" I asked quickly.
She took a deep breath, pressing her right palm to her heart, and sat down on the sofa.
"Mrs. Clairborne called. She called herself. I spoke to her." Mrs. Penny gasped as if she had received a call from the president of the United States. "She asked to speak to you, so I went looking for you, and your roommate, Abby, told me you had gone to someplace on the river to paint with your art teacher. She should know better; she should know better."
"What do you mean, know better?" I asked, smiling inquisitively. "Better about what?"
"On the weekends especially, if you're going to leave the grounds, you have to have permission. I have to have something on record."
"But we just went down to the river to paint," I explained.
"It doesn't matter. She should know better. I had to tell Mrs. Clairborne you weren't here. She was very disappointed."
"What did she want?"
"Something remarkable has happened," Mrs. Penny said, leaning over and whispering loudly. She looked around to be sure none of the other girls were in earshot.
"Remarkable?"
"Her grandson . . . Louis . . . he asked that you be invited to dinner at the mansion . . . tonight!"
"Oh," I said, surprised.
"None of the girls at Greenwood have ever been asked to dinner at the Clairborne mansion," Mrs. Penny said. I just stared at her. My lack of elation shocked her. "Don't you understand? Mrs. Clairborne called to invite you to dinner. You'll be picked up at six-twenty. Dinner is at six-thirty sharp."
"You told her I would go?"
"Of course. How could you think of not going?" she asked. She studied me a moment, her face trembling. "You will go, won't you?"
"I feel a bit nervous about it," I confessed.
"Oh, that's only natural, dear," she said, relieved. "What an honor. And one of my girls too!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. Her smile evaporated quickly. "But I must chastise your art teacher. She should have known better."
"No, you must not, Mrs. Penny. If you do, I won't go to Mrs. Clairborne's," I threatened.
"What?"
"I'll tell her about the rule and I'll see to it that my father provides the necessary permission slip, but I don't want Miss Stevens to get into trouble because of me," I said firmly.
"Well . . . I . . . if Mrs. Ironwood should find out."
"She won't."
"Well . . . you just make sure you tell your teacher and get that permission slip," she said. She paused and returned a happy smile to her face. "Now go find something pretty to wear. I'll see to it that the car is here at six-twenty. Congratulations, dear. One of my girls . . . my girls," she muttered as she hurried off.
I took a deep breath. I couldn't help myself from trembling. How silly, I thought. It was just a dinner. It was not like I was being tested or auditioned for anything.
But now that I knew the dark history of the Clairbornes and why Louis was the way he was, I couldn't help swallowing back lumps. Why had I followed the sound of that sweet, sad music and wandered into that room?
Of course, it would have been impossible to keep my invitation a secret, even if I had wanted to. Mrs. Penny was determined to brag about it, and in no time all the girls at the dorm had heard about Mrs. Clairborne's call. Gisselle was annoyed because she thought I had known about it since the tea and kept it from her.
"I have to find out about my sister from strangers," she chided after she had wheeled herself through our doorway. As usual, Samantha was at her side, ready to do her beck and call.
"I just returned from painting all day at the river with Miss Stevens, so I just found out myself, Gisselle."
"Painting all day with Miss Stevens. Peachy."
She gazed at the dresses I had laid out on my bed for Abby and I to consider.
"It looks like you've been planning. You must have known about this."
"I haven't. I just this moment took out my clothes, right, Abby?"
"Yes," she said, eyeing Gisselle, who still fumed. "Well, why did she ask only you?" she demanded. "I don't know," I said.
"It's because her grandson wants you there, right?" Gisselle followed quickly. Sometimes there was no hiding things from her. Her mind wandered through the labyrinths of deceptions and intrigues so often she knew the routes better than a professional spy.
"I guess," I said.
"He can't even see you and he wants you to come back? What did you two do?"
"Gisselle!" I looked from Abby to Samantha and back to my sister. "We didn't do anything. I spoke to him for a few minutes, listened to him play, and left. I'm very nervous about this as it is, so please don't make it any harder. The truth is, I don't even want to go, but Mrs. Penny's made it seem like the event of the century."
"I like the light blue dress," Abby said. "It's elegant but not too formal."
"Oh, it's just perfect for a little dinner with a blind boy," Gisselle quipped, glaring at me. "You'll be up there having a feast and we'll be down here eating dorm rot."
"We don't eat rot," Abby flared.
"Obviously, you're used to it," Gisselle retorted. "Wheel me out of here, Samantha. The air is too rich for our poor nostrils."
Abby whitened and was about to sting Gisselle with some retort when I looked at her and shook my head. "Don't get yourself upset, Abby," I advised. "That's all she wants anyway."
"You're right," Abby said, and we returned to choosing my wardrobe.
The blue dress was elegant. It had a sweetheart collar that revealed just an inch or so of cleavage, but we decided that with my locket and gold chain it still looked discreet. Abby loaned me a pair of gold-leaf earrings and a gold charm bracelet. We decided I should brush my hair and pin it up. I smeared on a trace of lipstick, sprayed myself with the jasmine cologne Mrs. Penny lent me, and finally went out to wait for the car. Mrs. Penny looked me over one final time and placed her stamp of approval on my appearance.
"This is historic," she continued. "Mark every detail in your mind to remember. I can't wait to hear about it. I'll be right here waiting for you, okay?"
"Yes, Mrs. Penny," I said.
Abby smiled at me. "Have a good time," she said. "Thanks, but I'm as nervous as a jackrabbit."
"You've got nothing to worry about," Abby said, and winked. "You've still got your good luck gris-gris."
I laughed. I had hidden the dime in my shoe, but it was there.
"The station wagon's here," Mrs. Penny announced. I hurried out. Buck was waiting at the car, holding the door open for me. When he turned, his eyes widened and took on a glint of appreciation, but he said nothing. I got in and he hurried around to the driver's side. Mrs. Penny stood on the steps and waved as we drove off. After we were away, Buck turned around.
"You look very nice," he said.
"Thank you."
"I've been here only three years," he said, "but this is the first time I've taken a Greenwood girl to the mansion for dinner. Are you related to the Clairbornes?"
"No," I said, laughing.
When we arrived at the mansion, he hurried around to open the door for me.
"Thank you," I said.
"Have a good time."
I smiled at him and hurried up the steps. The door opened for me before I reached it and Otis nodded.
"Good evening, mademoiselle," he said, bowing even deeper than usual.