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“Will you send Katy to my room after luncheon, then, Abby?” Stephanie said. “I will be ready for her.”

“I will bring her in person if I may,” Abigail said. “And stay to watch? Will you mind?”

“May I come too?” Estelle said. “Four girls together? It will be great fun.”

“Of course,” Stephanie said, wondering what she had got herself into. This was going to be nerve-racking, to say the least. She really did not have any experience at dressing hair. She thought briefly of asking her maid to help, but that would be cowardly.

And—four girls together. That sounded somehow enticing.

Katy appeared with her mama and her aunt at the door of her room soon after they left the dining room. She was obviously bursting with eagerness to get started. Her hair was freshly brushed and hung shiny and healthy down her back to her waist. It had a totally different texture from Stephanie’s own. It would never be thick, but it would always be glorious.

“Sit here, Katy,” Stephanie said, indicating the padded stool she had placed before the dressing table. “If you would like to draw those chairs a little closer, Abby and Estelle, please feel free to do so.”

“We will be quite happy to stand back here out of your way,” Abigail said, linking her arm through Estelle’s.

Stephanie smiled from one to the other of them before turning her attention to Katy and the daunting task of giving her an adult hairstyle that would both look pretty and hold in place.

“I cannot tell you how delighted I was,” Estelle said, “when Papa was going to marry Viola and I discovered that I was going to have a new sister. Two, actually. Camille was already married to Joel, though, and so would never live with us. Of course, it all almost did not happen. Papa and Viola broke up for a while. But Papa was so wretchedly miserable that Bert and I finally confronted him and persuaded him to go and get her back—and to take us with him, as well as a special license and a ring. Right before Christmas. It was the most romantic wedding ever, was it not, Abby?”

“It was, for Mama had been very unhappy too,” Abigail said. “And do you remember the rest of that Christmas, Estelle? Harry had just come home on leave from the wars, totally unexpectedly, and there was so much to celebrate it was a wonder we did not all burst.”

“It was when Cousin Elizabeth and Colin fell in love,” Estelle said.

Stephanie worked while they chattered and reminisced and laughed and were happy together. She brushed Katy’s hair again and then gathered it tight against the back of her head.

“I am going to tie this thin ribbon about it to hold it in place for now,” she said softly. “It will be removed later.”

It was a bit mad, perhaps, when the tail of hair was not very thick to start with, but she decided upon three separate braids, each of which was, of course, very thin. But this way she hoped to create the illusion of greater bulk. Each took quite a while, as she kept noticing the one she was working on was not evenly braided along its full length or that it was braided more tightly, or loosely, than the one she had already finished. She secured each firmly at the bottom when she was satisfied with it and then stood back to observe her handiwork and plan the next and trickiest move. She was glad that Katy was content to watch wide-eyed in the mirror while she sat absolutely still and did not attempt to talk.

And how important this was, Stephanie thought with a stabbing of guilt that she had so glibly taken on the task last night. A young girl’s feelings were so very fragile, and for some reason Katy considered herself unpretty. How absurd.

“Katy was kind enough to play the role of elder sister this morning,” Estelle said. “She played with her own young brothers and David as well as Gussie and Leonard’s two little girls while the rest of us were relaxing and enjoying a lovely visit. She was very good to us.”

“Oh, it was fun,” Katy said. “I kept asking myself what you would do to keep them entertained, Lady Stephanie. Ouch!”

The exclamation had come in reaction to Stephanie stabbing the poor girl with one of the hairpins.

“I am so sorry,” she said. She had been twisting the braids about one another in a pattern she had devised on the spot and then coiling them and pinning them securely to Katy’s head.

“No, I am sorry,” Katy said. “It did not really hurt at all. Please do not stop.”

Stephanie took a tentative step back when she was finished and held her breath. But the coiled braids high on the back of Katy’s head were evenly twisted and properly centered and secure, the arsenal of pins largely invisible. She might never be able to duplicate the feat, Stephanie thought, but for now she seemed to have done well.

“Oh.” Abigail gazed rapt at her daughter.

“How terribly clever you are, Stephanie,” Estelle said, making Stephanie feel even more of a fraud.

Stephanie leaned around the girl and picked up the hand mirror from the dressing table. She angled it behind Katy’s head so she could see the finished creation.

“What do you think?” she said. “It reminds me very much of the style my maid created for me for the Ravenswood ball when I was a young girl. The one I told you about last night.”

Katy moved her head to see the back from all angles. “I do look grown up,” she said. “It is gorgeous. All those intertwined braids. Mama?”

“My daughter, the young lady,” Abigail said, beaming.

“The very pretty young lady,” Estelle said. “You almost make me wish my own hair was not quite so dark, Katy.”

Katy jumped to her feet. “I want to go and show Papa,” she said. “And Grandmama and Grandpapa. And Grandmother and Grandfather. And Uncle Bert. May I, Mama?”