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guest, she took more than usual care with her toilet, allowing Almeira to fix her hair in a more sophisticated style than she usually wore. It was pulled sharply back and up, away from her face to teh crown of her head where Almeira fashioned the bulk of her heavy tresses into a high pile of shining curls that peaked and then cascaded down her back in a wealth of locks and ringlets which danced and shimmered with life, bespeaking her own vitality as she moved.
    "Lord, I never saw anyone with hair as thick and abundant as yours, Miss Christie. It's a wonder Master Charles takes such pride in its beauty that he cannot make a single trip away from home without bringing you back a gift of some new fancy ribbons for these curls."
    As she spoke, Almeira finished working the very ribbons she was speaking about, a deep turquoise satin one, through the cluster of curls atop Christie's head.
    It matched exactly the color of the soft silk dinner gown Almeira now held out for her mistress.
    Silently, Christie donned the gown and the older woman patiently closed up the long row of tiny pearl buttons in the back. Her young mistress smiled with open approval at teh image her mirror cast back at her, showing a perfect set of even white teeth between moist looking coral lips; the dimples that appeared in both her cheeks suggested a look that lay lay somewhere between angelic sweetness and barely hidden mischief. It was the very smile, the look, she knew, that without fail could melt her father's heart and turn him to modeling clay in her hands whenever she had a desire to do so, and it was with this knowledge in mind that she floated gaily down the huge staircase toward the dining room where everyone would be meeting before dinner. She knew she looked particularly appealing tonight and anticipated the pleased look of appreciation on Charles's face when she entered.
    She heard another male voice besides her father's as she neared the drawing room doors. that would be the guest of whom Merrie and Aunt Celia had spoken. Smiling, she entered the room.
    "Good evening, Father," she said sweetly as she moved towards the large Chippendale wing chair in which Charles was seated. "Thunder and I missed you this morning."
    "Christie, darling." Charles said brightly as he rose from his seat to greet her. "Lord, but you're a lovely sight to see. And no one missed our ride more than this old father of yours. We'll have to take a longer one tomorrow to make up for it."
    Her father's handsome face beamed, and she smiled softly up at him as he bent to kiss her on one cheek. Then, placing one large hand firmly at the small of her back, he turned her toward the far side of the room where the double French doors faced the terrace.
    "But come," Charles said, "you havent met our guest yet, and he's been here since early this morning." Suddenly Christie
    saw the tall figure standing before the French doors, his back toward the room. As he now turned around to meet her, the bite of recognition disturbed her flawless complexion with a rapid drain of all color, followed quickly by a deep flush that turned her cheeks crimson. it couldnt be .. but it was .. him!
    The man who now faced them gave only the slightest evidence that he was as surprised as she at their meeting. There was a tightening in the muscles around his jaws before his mouth broke into a broad grin as he met her startled gaze with a bold and open appraisal.
    "Mr Randall," Charles said, "May I present my daughter, Christie? Christie, this is Mr Garrett Randall, just in from Charleston. He arrived a bit prematurely this morning to discuss a transaction involving those prize brood mares we've got in the east pasture, as well as a few other purchases related to his plantation's business.
    Garrett bowed deeply and then drawled in a voice that was as smooth and rich as she remembered it, "A pleasure, Miss Trevellyan. Your father has spoken of you a great deal in the course of our afternoon together, and I feel