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"Oh!" Ann exclaims, opening hers. I recognize it. It is a brooch of Felicity's that Ann has admired. No doubt Felicity has a new one to take its place, but Ann is thrilled. She pins it to her costume immediately.

"Here," Ann says shyly. She passes us two gifts wrapped in newspaper. She's made us each an ornament, delicate lace angels like Pippa's.

It is my turn now. I've no skill with the needle, as Ann has, and I haven't the funds to match Felicity. But I can offer something special.

"I've something as well," I say.

"Where is it?" Ann asks. Behind her, the lamps do their dance, sending will-o'- the-wisps of light to haunt the walls.

I lean forward, whispering,"Meet me here at midnight."

They are on me at once, squealing with delight, for we are going back to the realms at last.

A loud cackle erupts. It's a laugh I've never heard. Perhaps that is because it belongs to Mrs. Nightwing. She sits among the teachers, who are all quite merry by now.

"Oh Sa--Claire, you have undone me," Mrs. Nightwing says, hand patting her chest as if to stop the laugh there.

"As I recall, it was you who started the trouble," Miss McCleethy says, smiling. "You were quite bold then, I remind you."

Girls rush in like water through a split log, their busy questions pushed along by the current of their insatiable curiosity. "What is it?" they demand."Do tell us!" "Did you not know your headmistress was quite the mischief maker?" Miss McCleethy says, dangling the carrot. "And a romantic, as well."

"Now, now," Mrs. Nightwing chides, sipping another glass of sherry.

"Do tell us," Elizabeth implores. The others join in a chorus of "Yes, please!"

When Mrs. Nightwing offers no protest, Miss McCleethy continues her tale."We were at a Christmas dance. Such glorious favors they had. Do you remember, Lillian?"

Mrs. Nightwing nods, eyes closed. "Yes. Cards with thick red tassels. Lovely, lovely."

"There were many gentlemen in attendance, but of course, we all had our hearts set on a particular man with dark hair and the most elegant figure. He was so very handsome."

Mrs. Nightwing says nothing, only has more sherry.

" 'That is the man I shall marry,' your headmistress announced to all of us, bold as you please. We laughed, but in a moment, she took my arm and paraded past--"

"I did not parade. ..."

". . . and dropped her dance card very artfully at his feet, pretending not to notice. Of course, he came after her. And they danced three in a row till the chaperones intervened."

We are delighted by this.

"What happened then?" Felicity asks.

"She married him," Miss McCleethy answers. "That very Christmas."

Mr. Nightwing? I forget that Mrs. Nightwing was once married, was once a girl herself. I try to picture her young and laughing, talking with her friends. Nothing comes. I can only see her as she is now, the pouf of graying hair, the spectacles, the severe manner.

"That is terribly romantic," Cecily says, swooning. "Yes, terribly," we all agree.

"It was quite bold of you, Lillian," Miss McCleethy says.

A cloud passes over Mrs. Nightwing's face."It was folly."

"When did Mr. Nightwing die?" I whisper to Felicity.

"I don't know. I'll pay you a pound to ask about him," she whispers back.

"Not on your life."

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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