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"'It was the best of times, it was the worst of times,'" I quoted from Dicken's A Tale of Two Cities.

Mama lay back on her divan and sighed. I had not spent adequate time with her since the Plumbs arrived. Each time I entered her suite, Charlotte appeared with her sisters and mother. They monopolized Mama's time with last-minute wedding preparations.

"Are you feeling quite well, Mama?" I asked, placing my finger in the book to hold the page. She looked more pallid than usual.

"I am fatigued, my dear," she languidly responded. She adjusted her quilt to just beneath her chin and shivered. "I wish the wedding into the past. I won't settle until it's finished."

"Soon, Mama," I stated, lifting her hand and kissing it gently. I momentarily held her palm against my cheek and tucked it beneath the thick covering. "Joel is taking her to Florence and Venice for their honeymoon. He intends to stay away for at least a month."

A relieved look crossed Mother's face, and I continued to read from Dickens. Suddenly, the door banged open, emitting Charlotte, Bertha, and Despina.

" ... seen the look on his face," Bertha remarked, continuing a conversation begun in the corridor. "Shocked him, I did. I swear he's a Molly Boy."

"I came on to him strong, too, and he simply walked away," Despina stated, sashaying with her hand on her hip. "Tweren't interested in what I had to offer."

"Whatever are you talking about?" I demanded, rising. Behind me, Mama reached out to grasp my hand.

"Never you mind, sweet cheeks," Lottie cut in, patting my face deftly. "Innocence is bliss; you, my dear, are as innocent as they come." The three sisters laughed uproariously.

"I'll ask you to close your conversations before entering this room," I stated, my temperature rising. "And kindly address my mother properly when you arrive."

"Tsk, tsk," Charlotte commented rudely. "Good morning, her ladyship, I'm sure." She swept a deep curtsey.

"Good morning, her ladyship," Bertha and Despina echoed, dipping also.

"Since you are here," Charlotte cooed, turning toward me, "I have a small errand for you. Kindly take this note to the Reverend." She dug into the top of her low-cut bodice and pulled an envelope from her bosom.

"Whatever for?" I countered sharply. "Am I the post office now?"

"You are whatever I want you to be," my brother's fiancée snapped, her cheeks reddening.

"I most certainly am not!" I shouted, raising my voice in ire.

"Oh, Priscilla, do take the note," Mama pleaded, placing her hand against her forehead. "Don't become so confrontational. I do feel a migraine coming on."

"Yes, Mama." Outwardly, I gave in; inwardly, my heart rebelled.

A condescending expression crossed Lottie's face, and she shoved her envelope into my hands. I pinched it between my thumb and forefinger, holding it like it might catch fire.

"Toddle along, Miss Prissy," Charlotte directed, moving her hands in a shooing manner. "It can't wait all day. It's a matter of great importance."

"Don't stand about like a tree," Bertha intoned haughtily. "Leave."

I rushed to the door to make a quick departure. It wasn't as though I wished to hurry with the letter; I wanted to escape the gruesome sisters as quickly as possible. As I exited, Despina's chortle followed me into the corridor. Hastily, I slammed the door and chastised myself for making a loud sound. Mama cringed at the noise, and she had enough to put up with since the Plumbs arrived.

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