Blanche made her way through the gallery and into the conjoined kitchen and living room. Lynn turned on her heel at the kitchen island, a wide smile on her face, and dropped the telephone on the receiver. "Good morning, Miss Blanche!" she beamed, and crossed over to the stove. "Did you sleep well?"

Blanche watched her overturn a pancake and remembered with an increasing feeling of hunger that she hadn't touched her dinner last night. "Not really," she admitted absently, pulling her robe tighter around herself. "I had one of my nightmares again." At Lynn's sympathetic look, she hurried to reassure her, "It's nothing to worry about. They're getting rarer."

Lynn returned her attention to the stove. "The visit to the sanatorium couldn't have helped."

"It had to be done," Blanche justified weakly. "At least now I know for certain that Jane is taken care of." She frowned at the memory of being told she couldn't see her sister and should keep out of the way. Dr. Brown had been as kind as he could, but it hadn't eased Blanche's disappointment.

Shaking her head slightly, she banished the thoughts from her mind, focusing again on the delicious smell coming from the stove. "Anyway," she continued in a lighter tone. "What's the occasion?" Lynn gave her an inquisitive look, and Blanche gestured towards the frying pan in the girl's hand.

"Oh, nothing really," Lynn answered with a light laugh. "I just had a feeling I'd like to give the both of us a little treat. God knows you deserve it after going to that awful place yesterday."

Blanche shook her head with a small amused smile. "I've told you it was all clean and safe." Her face took on a sly smirk. "But I wouldn't say no to the treat. Can I help?"

Lynn cast her a surprised look but nodded. "You could set the table if you wanted to," she offered, turning back to the stove once again when the unpleasant smell of a burnt pancake reached her.

Feeling a glad satisfaction at being able to help, Blanche steered her chair into the large kitchen, and stopped to open the door of a cupboard. She waited until Lynn's quick frustrated movements calmed behind her and, figuring that she'd saved the burnt cake, asked, "Who was on the telephone?" She picked two plates from a shelf in the cupboard and placed them safely in her lap.

"I wanted to tell you at the breakfast table," Lynn replied in a secretive tone. "It was Mr. Carroll."

Blanche's face lit up with pure delight. "Oh, really?" she enquired. "What did he say?" She opened a drawer and added two pairs of forks and knives to the plates on her lap.

"He asked you to go to the theatre with him," Lynn said, failing to hide the excitement in her tone. Blanche turned to find her watching her with a wicked grin.

"Why, that's very nice of him," Blanche said happily, paying no mind to her maid's indicative expression. She steered out of the kitchen and to the dining table on the other side of the counter.

"But he's bringing his wife," Lynn added, slightly disappointed at Blanche's dull reaction, but not yet given up on receiving one. "And he's asked me to come, too."

Sensing what the girl was getting at with her suggestive tone, Blanche shrugged her shoulders and resumed setting the table. "I wouldn't have it any other way," she said calmly.

Her words were nearly deadened by the loud whistle of the kettle. Lynn moved to pick it up and pouted. "But aren't you in the least disappointed that he's not going with you alone?"

"Why would I be?" Blanche replied in a carefree tone, approaching the cupboard again to receive the two tea cups Lynn was holding out to her.

"I thought there was an old love story between the two of you," Lynn admitted, the disappointment now evident in her voice.

"Everyone thought so," Blanche agreed. "They were all wrong. We've never been anything but good friends."

"That one, I think." Blanche pointed at one of the many dresses that Lynn had laid out on her bed. She'd sometimes wondered if she should get rid of the better part of her wardrobe, since she didn't really go out at all. But perhaps now that her life had started to take on new bright and promising colours, her decision of holding on to her pretty things would come in handy.

Lynn simply nodded her head and set about returning the rest of the dresses to the closet. Blanche noticed with quiet amusement that she was handling every one of them like a priceless piece of art.

Once all but one gown was put away carefully, Lynn skilfully helped Blanche out of her robe and into the gown she'd picked. The shoes had been an entirely different and easier choice. Lynn slipped them onto the older woman's stiff feet, feeling the already familiar blue feeling of suffocating regret.

That done, Blanche sent her to her room so she could get dressed as well. Lynn closed the door after sneaking a look back into the room and seeing Blanche in front of her vanity mirror, reaching out for her hairbrush.

It took Lynn less than ten minutes to get dressed. Lynn didn't have many fancy clothes. But God bless Blanche Hudson for having such a kind, understanding heart! Without asking any questions about Lynn's reluctance to come to the theatre, the actress had called her over to her closet and told her to pick anything she liked and wear it.

Lynn observed herself in the long mirror in her room. She'd have given anything to show off in front of her sister and mother right now. Blanche's figure-hugging golden gown was a perfect fit, probably even more so for her than for the actress, who hadn't worn it for thirty years. Thankfully, this sort of clothing never went out of fashion. With her high-heeled shoes and fabulous dress on, Lynn felt taller and amazingly slim. She never used much make-up but considered herself fine without it. She'd made up her hair in a pretty way. All in all, she was very pleased with how she'd ended up looking.

Shaking herself out of her vain thoughts, Lynn grabbed her small purse and left her room. Although she knocked, she didn't have enough patience in her to wait for an answer, so she entered the room across the gallery from hers without an invitation.

Blanche smiled at her in the mirror she was sitting at, and continued to add lipstick to the curvy line of her mouth. "You look lovely, Lynn," she said once she'd placed the lipstick in her drawer again.

Lynn dropped her purse next to Blanche's on the older woman's bed and approached her carefully. "So do you," she replied, looking at the reflection of the actress's face in awe.

Blanche smiled happily and nodded her thanks in the young woman's direction. Her expression only faltered momentarily when Lynn's hand reached over to her hair and pulled back shortly.

"There was a loose hairpin," she explained quickly, and was rewarded with another smile.

"Thank you."

Blanche turned and looked at the reflection of the two of them in the mirror. Lynn was wearing a lovely little rose-shaped necklace, her unpierced ears were stylishly plain. But there was something missing.

Blanche pulled out a drawer and from inside it a small jewellery box. She picked out a large golden hair clip in the shape of small leaves. It seemed perfect for the girl. "Come here," she ordered softly, turning towards Lynn again. The younger woman bent down, and Blanche fastened the clip to her blonde hair.

"There," she breathed, and Lynn turned her head to study herself in the mirror. Her expression changed from eternally grateful to astonished. "You look like a princess," Blanche said with delighted satisfaction.

Lynn knew she should say something to thank her. But the only thought that kept repeating itself in her mind was that Blanche was absolutely right.

Lynn answered the doorbell, flinging open the door and stepping aside to let the Carrolls inside. "Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Carroll," she said politely, and gestured for the couple to step into the large main room of the house.

"Oh, please, Miss," Mrs. Carroll said warmly, "there's no need for that. We're all friends—or will be soon—so first names will do perfectly well." She extended a hand towards the younger woman. "I'm Margaret."

Lynn accepted her hand with a smile. "Lynn," she introduced herself, although the woman must have already known who she was. The same occurred again with Mr. Carroll, only this time they were all smiling rather amusedly.

Lynn had seen William Carroll in pictures many times; unlike Blanche, he was still working, so his kind face was already familiar to the girl. Margaret Carroll was a short petite woman with curly blonde hair and a friendly smile. She had come in a knee-length lavender evening dress, and was holding a perfectly matching purse in her gloved hands. Her fur coat was very much like the one Blanche had lent Lynn, although Blanche's own could just by looking at it be classified as a much more expensive one.

"I'll just go and get Miss Blanche, and we'll be ready to go," Lynn said, backing away into the gallery for she didn't want to be as rude as to not look at the Carrolls while she was talking to them. Judging by the hour, it wouldn't have been a good idea to offer them a drink, although that would have been polite. But then they would have had to rush to be on time at the theatre.

Margaret and William were left alone in the spacious living room for no longer than a minute. "What a nice little house," the wife thought, admiring the modern kitchen.

"You know what, Maggie," Bill replied, averting his eyes from the old painting above the fireplace, "I think moving into this house has done Blanche a whole lot of good."

A sound from the gallery made them both turn in its direction, and they saw Lynn coming towards them, pushing in front of her a wheel chair with the most beautiful woman either of the Carrolls had ever seen.

Dressed in a deep wine red gown, Blanche sat there with a lovely smile upon her dark red lips. The gown's skirts covered the wasted part of her body beautifully, making it seem like she was simply sitting down to rest her legs. The bodice of the gown was stretched tightly around her slender body, the shoulder pads adding to her naturally beautiful figure. A large silver necklace adorned with countless tiny diamonds complemented her long neck, a matching pair of small earrings was fastened to her ears. Her voluminous ebony hair had been styled into an elegant coiffure, complete with a priceless diamond headpiece. It was a complete mystery how she'd done it, but with the make-up on she looked exactly like she had all those years ago, when she had still been young and capable of walking.

"Hello," Blanche beamed as if she hadn't noticed the admiring way Bill was looking at her. She extended a hand towards Margaret, and once the woman had taken it, pulled her close for a hug. "Margaret, darling, how are you? You look wonderful."

"Why, thank you, Blanche," Margaret chuckled. "You look quite ravishing yourself."

Bill waited patiently for his turn, and brought Blanche's ungloved hand to his lips. "Simply stunning."