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But a young woman passed by and heard the name and stopped.
"Wait," she cried and pushed in front of the maid.
"You're looking for Priscilla?" she asked her cheeks flushed, but a ready smile on her face.
"That's right."
"Who are you?"
"I'm Lance Rogers."
"Oh, oh my God!" the girl fanned herself. She looked rather flustered. A flush came to her pretty young cheeks as she stared at him, her blue eyes taking him all in. All of him. She was beautiful but not over seventeen or eighteen. "Come with me." She told him.
"But Miss Daisy, your folks aren't home and it ain't right to let a man, a stranger in the house like this." The maid fussed after her.
Lance glanced at the fine curtains and the high ceilings, the winding staircase and the girl in front of him with interest.
"It will be fine, Sally." The girl told her. "He's not exactly a stranger."
The girl took his hand and before he knew where she was going, she took him upstairs to the third floor. She opened a door and another young girl stood in the bedroom. She was younger and just as pretty.
"Daisy, who is this?" The young girl came up to them and stared at Lance, a smile coming to her face. "He's gorgeous."
Daisy shook her head, "This is Lance Rogers, you're intended." Daisy's brow raised significantly.
Lance stood stone still, the girl couldn't be over fifteen or sixteen.
"Oh! Oh my!" The girl shrieked. Nervously she paced the confines of her bedroom not daring a glance at him. For a long moment Lance took in those last few words with difficulty.
They both stared at him now, waiting for him to say something.
"Yes, I told you this would happen." Daisy reproached her.
"I can't believe it. Aren't you from Texas?" the young one asked.
"Yes, I am. Is Priscilla here?"
The girls looked at each other and frowned.
"I told you. You can't accept a marriage proposal like that and not expect someone to show up asking what is going on." Daisy insisted. The young girls' face looked almost tearful now.
Lance stood at a real unease now. The way she was talking, one of them was Priscilla. It couldn't be! He was almost afraid to ask.
"I guess I'm in a lot of trouble." The young girl came to stand just in front of him. "I'm Priscilla, well, not really, but me and my sister wrote those letters to you. I figured when I didn’t show up, you'd know I was no longer interested."
Lance still hadn't found his voice. He looked from one girl to the next. Marriage proposal. His? This was Priscilla? How could it be? How could he have not known?
"Y-you are Priscilla?" He stared at the young girl standing at the post of the bed. "You sent me all those letters?" he asked.
"W-we did, yes." She hung her head in shame. Her blonde curls fell over her shoulders and her face turned a bright red.
Lance stared from one girl to the other. "I don't understand this. You've been writing me for two years? That would make you about fourteen when you started writing me?"
"W-where are mom and dad." The younger girl asked her sister, as though he hadn't said a word.
"They are still at the church, decorating. But they won't be all afternoon, so you better make this quick, or you are going to be in a world of trouble."
When the young one didn't respond Daisy sighed and shook her head.
