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I explained how they had come to blackmail me into giving them money, and Mother's self-pity came to an abrupt stop.

"I just knew it," she said. "The moment I set eyes on that man, I just knew what sort he was. Still, it was hard to tell her these things. She used to put me up on such a high pedestal," Mother moaned. "Now she thinks so much less of me."

"She never respected you, Mother. Don't delude yourself. And as for loving Randolph . . . I don't think she loves anyone but herself."

"Perhaps," Mother admitted. She sighed and then described how Clara Sue had ranted and raved. I enjoyed hearing about it until she concluded with, "In the end Bronson gave her some money."

"It won't be the last time she comes for money," I said, disgusted with Clara Sue's antics.

"I know, but we felt . . . guilty. I pulled her aside and told her in no uncertain terms that if she persists in living with a man twice her age, there will be no more money coming."

"You don't have to worry, Mother. Charlie Goodwin won't be hanging on to a lost cause long," I said.

"You're probably right. You're a lot wiser about these things than I was," she said. "Oh, well, one good thing came out of it, I suppose."

"What's that?" I asked.

"She says that since Philip isn't a whole brother and Randolph wasn't really her father, she and Charlie are not going to attend the wedding. At least she won't be there to embarrass me."

I had to laugh at the way Mother could always manage to find her rainbows.

The day of the wedding we all flew to Washington, D.C. The wedding ceremony itself was held in a beautiful church, and the reception was held in the ballroom of one of the most luxurious hotels I had ever seen. We had invited nearly three hundred people on our side, and the Monroes had invited close to five hundred. It was a most impressive wedding party.

But for me and for a number of people, the sensational thing about the affair was Betty Ann herself. I was shocked when I first set eyes on her coming down the aisle of the church.

She had dyed her hair blond.

"I did it for Philip," she told me when we had a private moment together at the reception. "He had been asking me to do it for weeks, and I thought I would surprise him. Does it look okay?" she asked.

I didn't think it did, especially with her eyebrows still dark brown, but I could see how important it was for her to please Philip.

"Yes; it's just such a surpr

ise," I said. "I'll have to get used to it."

"Philip's already used to it. You should have seen the pleased expression on his face when he saw me. I never saw his eyes so bright or his smile so deep. We're going to be very happy together, don't you think?" she asked, searching for reassurance.

"I'm sure you will," I said.

Mother didn't seem to notice any significance in Betty Ann's dyeing her hair, but she was in quite a daze. Everything overwhelmed her: the richness of the ballroom, the number of guests, the army of servants, and the abundance of food and champagne. The cocktail hour itself was equivalent to most wedding dinners. Chefs were slicing roast beef and handing out enormous shrimps. There were trays and trays of hot hors d'oeuvres and two bands just for the cocktail hour.

The dinner had seven courses and went on and on until after midnight, with toasts being made by senators and congressmen. There was even a governor present. Of course, we were occupied with our own guests, but Stuart Monroe took the time to introduce us to many of his important guests as well.

Philip was very busy with his college friends and with all the guests the Monroes brought around to meet him, but before the evening ended he managed to ask me to dance.

"Doesn't Betty Ann look beautiful?"

"Why did you ask her to dye her hair, Philip?"

"Don't you know?" he responded, and my heart began to pound. Of course I knew, I thought. "If I can't have you," he whispered, "I can at least imagine it."

I didn't realize how serious he was about this until after we had returned to Cutler's Cove and I met Mrs. Boston in the corridor outside my suite.

"Did it all go well?" she inquired.

"It was an overwhelming affair, Mrs. Boston. Mother is still spinning," I added, smiling.

"Mr. Philip was so nervous. He nearly panicked when you weren't here to give him what you had promised. We had packed many of your things away in those cartons in preparation for your moving."

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