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her chair. Gisselle had been wheeled in and she
waited too, fidgeting and looking very unhappy. I was
surprised to see Bruce seated at the dark pine
secretary. Would he be present at all our family
discussions now?
"Sit down," Daphne ordered, nodding at the
chair beside Gisselle. I took it quickly.
"Is Paul gone?" Gisselle asked.
"Yes."
"Quiet, the two of you. I didn't gather you here
to discuss some Cajun boy."
"He's not a boy; he's a young man," I said.
"And the manager of his father's factory."
"Fine. I hope he becomes king of the swamp.
Now," she said, putting her hands on the arms of the
chair, "the two of you will be leaving early in the
morning, so I wanted to get some matters straightened
out and some business conducted before I retire to my
suite. I'm exhausted from all this."
"Then why do we have to leave tomorrow?"
Gisselle whined. "We're exhausted too."
"It's settled: You're leaving," Daphne said, her
eyes big. She calmed herself again and continued.
"First, I'm cutting in half the amount of money your father was sending you. You have little or no use for spending money while you attend Greenwood
anyway."
"That's not true!" Gisselle countered. "In fact, if
you give us permission to leave the grounds--" "I'm not about to do that. Do you think I'm a
fool?" She glared at Gisselle as if she expected an
answer. "Do you?" she taunted.
"No," Gisselle said, "but it's boring having to
