Christie by Veronica Sattler Page B

fortunes had been able to keep up with his wife's growing taste for luxuries. "Oh, well," he had mused, "if Philip has been fool enough to allow your aunt to become more enamored of the getting and spending of his wealth than of him, that, thank God, is his problem! And if your cousins have turned out to be two 'Margarets in replica,' for that, too, he has only himself to blame."
    So Christie had greeted the arrival of her cousins with polite civility, privately deploring those social customs which forced her to invite people she didn't like.
    At five o'clock, Almeira awakened Christie, and the final ablutions, coiffing, and dressing began, an intricately elaborate process which at last culminated, a full three hours later—a ridiculous three hours later, in Christie's opinion—in a perfumed and pampered, begowned and beribboned finished product.
    She took a final look at herself in the wardrobe mirror and decided what she saw pleased her. Her slender, willowy form did complete justice to Madame Celeste's efforts, for it provided the pale aqua magic of the frothy concoction with the exact silhouette it required to be exquisite; a tiny waist and slender hips for the new, softer look achieved without panniers; well-rounded breasts for a decolletage lower than any she had worn before, Madame Celeste having convinced a doubtful Aunt Celia, in typically French fashion, that it was chic without being indecent; long legs to add to the grace of a skirt that fell softly to the floor in long folds. And against the color, the slight tint of apricot the sun had given her creamy skin worked beautifully.
    Her hair had been pulled up and away from her temples and neck in a cluster of shiny wheaten curls and long, braided loops gathered at the crown of her head and studded there by six magnificent jewels which had belonged to her mother—three stunning emeralds and three brilliant sapphires, all of matching size and cut. These were duplicated by six stones set in a necklace she also wore for the first time tonight. In an emotional moment, Charles had taken the jewelry carefully out of its box in his study and sent it to her room with a tender note explaining how it had been saved for her all these years, to be bestowed on just this occasion. In it he had also described how her mother had looked the last time she had worn them. Finally, the note had begged her understanding of why he had not brought t the jewelry in person, and Christie had smiled a misty-eyed smile at this; for as long as she could remember, Charles had shed his tears in private.
    The musicians were already playing in the great ballroom when she descended the long staircase, but at her appearance, they stopped, and a hush fell over the crowded room as all eyes fell on her. A loud burst of applause greeted her ears, and, having reached the base of the stairs, Christie gave a deep curtsy. Then she smiled broadly at the roomful of people before nodding to the musicians to resume playing.
    She saw Charles coming forward to greet her and trilled, "Oh, Father, you look so handsome tonight!"
    Whispering in his ear a private thank you for the gift, she embraced him. Her father cleared his throat suspiciously and threw her a smile that showed her appearance captivated him.
    "Christie, darlin', we've been waiting for the birthday girl, and it has certainly been worth the anticipation. Your own brilliance outshines even those jewels, my dear," he said warmly.
    "Christie, what a lovely young woman you've become!"
    The voice behind her father was that of Uncle Philip who stood there beside Aunt Margaret before moving forward to take her by both hands.
    "Here, let us look at you. By God, Charles, she looks more like Jennifer all the time. My dear, you dazzle us."
    "Yes," purred the small woman beside him, "one would never believe the scrawny-looking menace of a few years ago would turn out to be such a young lady."
    There was little attempt on Aunt Margaret's part at disguising the