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wasn't more than three or four shillings, I'm sure."
    "Yes, Aunt Mary," Elizabeth answered dutifully.
     
    So it was that the dress Elizabeth wore to the Villineses was a high-collared gold silk with a plain skirt and bodice without any of the lace, pleats, or braid trim she would have liked. She had saved enough of the dull gold fabric to fashion two tiny bows which she affixed at the sleeves, but except for the ribbon she had carefully sewn around the collar, the dress was exclusive of decoration.
    As usual, that evening Mrs. Willard insisted only Elizabeth could help her dress. By the time she was done helping her aunt, she had less than an hour to get ready herself. A young woman had been hired as ladies' maid to the two girls, but it was clear that Miss Lincoln's first duty was to Amelia. When she finally came in, Elizabeth had already put on her dress, and all Miss Lincoln had to do was fasten the last few buttons while Elizabeth secured her hair with a comb. She fastened around her neck a gold chain that had been a birthday present from Mr. Willard. Her mother's wedding ring hung from the chain, and she fingered it as she stood in front of the mirror looking at her reflection. She wished there had been enough of the gold silk left to make a bow for her hair.
    "Hurry, Miss Elizabeth," said Miss Lincoln, handing her a pair of gloves to put on. "It's past eight o'clock."
    Elizabeth sighed when she saw Amelia's dress, a blue silk that perfectly matched her eyes and was decorated with more than enough bows to have kept several women sewing for a week. When she stood next to her cousin while they waited for the carriage that would take them to Fitzroy Square, Elizabeth sadly thought that she looked all of sixteen years old, and so plain she might as well be wearing a sign that read "Poor Relation."
    The Willards were the last to arrive at Fitzroy Square. They followed the butler into the drawing room, where Mr. Villines rose to introduce them to the other guests. Elizabeth curtsied to the gentlemen (who merely glanced at her and immediately returned their attention to Amelia), nodded to the ladies, and felt decidedly insignificant. The elegant attire of the other women made her wish even more acutely that she had been able to manage a bow for her hair. She took a seat near Mrs. Villines and doubted anyone would even notice her.
    There were ten guests besides the Willards. There was Mr. R. Robert Smithwayne, who, like a true gentleman, did nothing in particular, and his wife, Annabelle, who devoted her energies to the Smithwayne Foundation for Abandoned Children. The Smithwaynes' two children were Frederick, twenty-three years old and the image of his father, and Jane, and Elizabeth's age and very pretty. The guest of honor was Sir Jaspar Charles, Baronet. He was in his late thirties, and what little remained of his red hair was mostly directly under his nose. His wife, Lady Charles, was wearing red silk and a necklace of blood red rubies to match. Her dark hair was worn in a sweep of curls held up by combs set with rubies to match the necklace. She was still beautiful, and Elizabeth was certain that, had she been so inclined, she might have distracted everyone's attention from Amelia.
    The other two guests were unmarried gentlemen. Mr. Beaufort Latchley was a wealthy banker of some thirty-five years who had just come out of mourning for his wife. His hair was a light brown, his eyes about the same color. He smiled often, but the fascinating thing was that he utterly failed to seem cheerful. Several times he leaned back to listen to the conversation with an expression of contempt of his sharp features, particularly when the other unmarried male guest was speaking.
    The Honorable Ripton Rutherford was twenty-five, and he had first provoked Mr. Latchley's scorn just after the Willards' arrival when he commented it had taken his valet nearly a hour to tie his cravat to his satisfaction. In spite of his professed difficulty,