only hear snatches of the words. "... original wing actually Pre-revolutio

oor, getting an unobstructed view of the house at

front door, her voice rapid and breathless. "... rectan

passionately. There was silence from her mother behind her, but Victoria didn't turn to look; she was staring at the house, at the rows of unwashed windows and the sagging eaves

r's white face and stricken

theart." There were tears in her own eyes, and when she looked up at the house, Victoria was a

n to me," she said. "If you

d her. Turning, she saw that the door to the house had opened. An old

back. "Mom?" she

dull resignation settled over her. When she turned to Victo

, dear," she said. "Let'

s a despairing entreaty. But her m

Victoria,"

ut then the same heavy exhaustion that had descended over her mother seemed to wrap around her as well. They were he

o be her great-grandmother, at least. Victoria tried to det

his is your

ria's face. In that instant a bizarre thought flashed into Victoria's mind: She's going to put me in the oven. But t

ctoria's discomfiture she went on looking, staring at Victoria with what seemed like a mixtur

mother said then, quiet and formal, and the

" The two women embraced, but an indefin

andmother said, wiping her eyes. "I'm afraid the old place is rather shabby,

and dark. And everything did look shabby, from the worn upholstery

ards creaked under Victoria's Reeboks and the lamps high on the walls flickered uneasily as they passed. One of us ought to be

mother apologized. "He insisted on doing so much of it hi

and foot and a canopy, all made of the same dusty-rose flowered fabric. There were chairs with high carved backs upholstered in a matching rose damask. On a fireplace with

ndmother was saying. "The design is called bombe, and it was made right here i

t wildly, staring at the deco

ave you looked out the windows? I thought you might lik

The other faced the ocean. Just now it was a sullen lead gra

a's grandmother said. "Alexa, I've given you the

ria was alone. Alone with the massive ruddy furniture and the cold fireplace and

g money. She'd painted the bookcase pale blue to show off her unicorn collection. She collected every kind of unicorn there was - stuffed, blown glass, ceramic, pewter.

she found the piece of chalcedony in her hand. She must hav

hrow it away, but instead she just rubbed it against her cheek, feeling the cool, jagged smoothness of the crystals. It made her remember his touch - how gentle it had been, the way it had pierced her to the soul. Daringly, she rubbed the crysta

touched now? She let her head fall back, drawing the cool stone from her own lips down her throat to rest in the hollow where her pulse beat. She could almost feel him kissing

mbered that. He'd left her and gone away, just as t

. Victoria's mother told people he had died, but to Victoria she admitted the truth: he'd simply left. Maybe he was dead by now, or maybe he was somewhere else, with another fam

They both left me. And now I'm alone... here. If only

was so exhausted with emotion that she couldn't even get up to go to the bed. She simply

elessly, almost gliding over the floor. In her dream she was aware of them, but she couldn't move as they lifted her from the chair and und

dmother said with a sigh. "

said sharply. "

gain. "But you can see t

and resigned. "I can see that you can't

ly she could see her mother and grandmother moving toward the door, and she could hear the whispe

crifice

ed over and over in her mind. Even as darkness covered her,

ng in the eastern window. It made the pink room look like a rose petal held u

probably from crying - and she felt a little lightheaded but not really bad. She felt the way you do after being very

e the room, she noticed the chalcedony lucky p

l, lit only by the windows at opposite ends. Victoria found herself shivering as she

when she tried to explore, she quickly got lost. Finally,

ps took her down the long, narrow country road, past house after house. It was so early, no

wer, the windo

The girl was tall and slender, with an incredibly long cascade of hair that obscured her face as she bent over something on the desk in front of the window. That hair - Vi

ut looking down. Victoria watched, fascinated, at what the girl was doing at the desk. The girl's hands moved gracefully, grinding som

own window. Once she did, then... something would happen. Victoria didn't know what, but her skin had brok

shining hair was turning, as if responding to someone inside the house calling her. Victoria had a glimpse of a lovely, dewy

let out h

ut the sense of crushing disappointment remained. She felt that somehow she'd never have another chance - she'd never get up the courage to introduce he

after the sunny Victorian one. Disconsolately, Victor

e wind blew her hair back, and she stared out at the morning sun glittering on the waves. She felt... kinship again. As if something were

cto

r grandmother was calling from the d

or heaven's sake, get

vertigo. Her toes were almost off the bluff. "I didn

"Well, come away now and I'll get you some b

uncomfortable, but she definitely felt better this morning than she had yesterday. She foll

ouble with her leg today, Victoria noticed. "Strange to have it lead directly into the kitchen, isn't i

the rest of it was like something out of a movie set. Dominating the room was an enormous open fireplace as big as a walk-in closet, and although there was no fire now, the thick layer of ash

woman in front

oked stooped and coarse, with her grizzled hair and the prominent mole on her cheek. Victoria kept half e

she told herself fiercely. Your only living relative besides your mother. It'

f steaming pancakes in front of her. Then she added, "Uh, a

er said. "When you're done eating, I

" Victoria sa

rent than Victoria had expected. There were some flowers, but for the most part the "garden"

Maybe the old lady was senile af

used glance. "They're herbs," she sai

leaf but a little bigger, and sniffed. It had the scent of

French sorr

reshing. "It's good - like sour grass!" she said, looking up at her grandmother, who smiled. "What

like white daisies are feverfew. F

hose?" She pointed to some creamy whi

od. The bees love it, and the butterflies. In spr

icate flower buds, then stopped. "Could I - I thought I

s many as you want. That'

t, snapping off stems of the creamy flowers. She's ju

to the house. Then she opened her mouth again, to

picking up something f

yesterday." She handed Victoria two booklets bo

nt Handbook, one read. The other read, N

Victoria tho

ween the booklets, with Schedule of Classes printed boldly at the top. And under th

the house might turn out to be not so awful. But what about