Cutler 05 - Darkest Hour

and tied a pink ribbon around it. She stood behind me as we both looked into the full-length mirror. I knew, from the many times Papa had read it out loud to me from the Bible, that falling in love with your own image was a dreadful sin, but I couldn't help it. I held my breath and gazed at the little girl captured in the mirror.
    I looked as if I had grown up overnight. Never had my hair appeared as soft or as golden, nor had my blue-gray eyes looked as bright.
    "Oh, how beautiful you are, honey," Mamma declared. "Let's hurry down and show the Captain."
    Mamma took my hand and we walked down the corridor to the stairway. Louella had already forewarned some of the chambermaids, who poked their heads out of the rooms they had begun to clean. I saw their smiles of appreciation and heard them giggle.
    Papa looked up from the table when we arrived. Emily was already sitting prim and proper.
    "We've been waiting a good ten minutes, Georgia," Papa declared, and snapped his pocket watch shut for emphasis.
    "It's a special morning, Jed. Feast your eyes on Lillian."
    He nodded.
    "She looks fine, but I've got a full day ahead of me," he said. Emily looked self-satisfied with Papa's abrupt reaction. Mamma and I took our seats and Papa quickly muttered grace.
    As soon as breakfast ended, Louella gave us our box lunches and Emily declared that we had to hurry.
    "Waiting for you for breakfast put us behind," she whined, and started quickly for the front entrance.
    "Now watch over your little sister," Mamma cried after us.
    I scurried as quickly as I could in my stiff, shiny new shoes, clinging to my notebook, pencils and box lunch. The night before there had been a short but hard downpour, and although most of the ground was already dry, there were some potholes still full of rainwater. Emily kicked up a cloud of dust as she marched down our driveway and I did the best I could to avoid it. She wouldn't wait up for me or hold my hand.
    The sun hadn't finished poking its face over the line of trees, so there was a slight chill in the air. I wished we could slow down and take in some of the bird songs. There were wonderful wild flowers still plush and in bloom along the sides and I was wondering if it wouldn't be nice for us to pluck some for Miss Walker. I asked Emily, but she barely turned around to reply.
    "Don't start apple polishing the first day, Lillian." Then she turned and added, "And don't do anything to embarrass me."
    "I'm not apple polishing," I cried, but Emily just said, "Humph," and walked on, her long strides getting longer and faster so that I practically had to run to keep up. When we made the turn at the bottom of our driveway, I saw a large puddle had formed across the road and still remained from the night before. Emily hopped over some large rocks, balancing herself with remarkable agility and not so much as getting the bottom of her soles damp. But to me the puddle looked formidable. I paused, and Emily spun around, her hands on her hips.
    "Are you coming, little princess?" she asked.
    "I'm not a little princess."
    "Mamma thinks you are. Well?"
    "I'm afraid," I said.
    "That's silly. Just do what I did . . . walk on the rocks. Come on or I'll leave you here," she threatened.
    Reluctantly, I started. I put my right foot on the first stone and gingerly stretched to get my left foot on the next, but when I did so, I had stretched too far and couldn't bring my right foot forward. I started to cry for Emily's help.
    "Oh, I knew you would be a problem for me," she declared, and came back. "Give me your hand," she ordered.
    "I'm afraid."
    "Give me your hand!"
    Barely balancing myself, I leaned forward until I reached her fingers. Emily grasped mine tightly and for a moment, did nothing. Surprised, I looked up at her and saw a strange smile on her lips. Before I could retreat, she tugged me hard and I slipped off the rock and fell forward. She let go and I landed on my knees in the deepest part of the puddle. The muddy water quickly soaked into my beautiful new dress. My notebook and my box lunch sunk and I lost all my pens and pencils.
    I screamed and started to cry. Emily, looking pleased, stood back, and offered me no assistance. I got up slowly and sloshed my way out of the puddle. On dry ground, I looked down at my beautiful new dress, now stained and soaked. My shoes were covered with grime, the mud seeping through my pink cotton socks.
    "I told Mamma not to buy you fancy clothes, but she wouldn't listen," Emily