CHAPTER TWELVE

EVENTUALLY MOTHER'S PERSISTENCE paid off, for we managed to find the elusive ball-gown just three days before the party. I could not be angry with her for her tenacity, however, as I had the same weakness for fine clothing, and the dress we settled upon was by far the most elegant thing I had ever seen.

Mother pronounced it perfect, and with her spirits so high in anticipation, the whole house couldn't help but be infected by her joy. So, it was a very merry group that left the house on Christmas Eve to bundle into the automobile.

I sat next to George in the backseat, complimenting him on actually looking civilized. His brown hair was parted and slicked to the sides, and Mother had managed to force him into a formal suit and tie, complete with a high starched collar and black dancing pumps. He had accepted her fussing gamely enough, for although dancing didn't hold much attraction for such an active fourteen-year-old boy, he knew at least a few of his cohorts would be in attendance. Undoubtedly they would find some other sort of mischief to get into when the party became too dull.

Father looked as tidy and collected as he generally did – he wore a suit every day to the law firm, so there was no great difference in his appearance but for the jeweled stickpin he wore on his lapel. Mother was lovely, appearing younger than her years in lavender silk and pearls, her hair done up with an exacting neatness that I could only observe and envy.

While the others all talked, I chose to stay silent, watching the darkened streets and their bordering houses creep by as Father drove toward the Hayvescrofts' mansion. My heart beat a rapid tattoo in my chest; I was surprised by my own excitement. I had been to large parties before and never felt this kind of anxiety – perhaps all those months in Cutter Gap had worn away the social adroitness that had been instilled in me by Mother.

"William Spencer will be there, Christy," Mother said suddenly, glancing over the seat to gauge my reaction. "And the Lloyds are coming with their son, Rupert, who has only just graduated from college. You remember Rupert, don't you, dear?"

"I remember that he put a worm in the pocket of my favorite dress once," I said, trying not to smile.

George muffled a snort against his sleeve, and Mother turned back to watch the road with a sigh. I knew exactly what she was hoping for: I would look very demure and lovely in my gown, and some rich young man would fall instantly in love with me, and we would marry and settle in Asheville, and I would give Mother several well-behaved grandchildren to dote on. There was no doubt in my mind of the line of her thoughts this evening; Mother, for all her caprice, was very predictable in some matters.

In short order, we had arrived at the Hayvescrofts' estate, where a line of cars and a few carriages jammed up the gravel road to the house. Hayvescroft Hall itself was still an astounding sight, particularly in the evening when the torches were lit, casting a sunset-glow over the fine white marble and Grecian pillared entryway. One hundred marble steps led up to the foyer, where Mr. and Mrs. Hayvescroft were waiting to receive their guests.

A servant approached us to park the car in the reserved lot behind the house, and we walked up together to join the milling crowd at the doors. Thankfully, the line moved quickly, and soon we were inside.

Our turn came to be introduced, and Mr. Hayvescroft greeted Father with all the warmth due to a good friend. He and his wife made a handsome couple, both plump and blond, with easy smiles – although I sensed that Mrs. Hayvescroft's welcome was not quite so sincere as her husband's. They ushered us along as soon as the pleasantries had been concluded, urging us to enjoy ourselves as much as possible.

Stomach fluttering with nerves, I took George's arm as we passed through the foyer into the dance hall, and the sight that met us there was truly extraordinary.

The ballroom glittered with the light of a thousand lanterns strung about the walls, decked with fresh greenery and shiny red holly berries. A half-dozen crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead like diamond-drop stars, casting glittering beams all across the floor. People milled everywhere, dressed in rich silks and velvets and lace, perfumed and glowing with prosperity and good cheer. It was a beautiful picture, and I felt myself being caught up in the charm and bustle and keen excitement.

There were a few familiar faces in the crowd – girls and boys I had once known who were now young men and women; I wondered if they saw the same difference in me too. A few people approached to bid my parents good evening and welcome me back home, but for the most part I was left unattended. George had gone off to speak with some of his friends, and Mother was busy with her own circle of church ladies. Even Father was absorbed in some sort of business discussion with Mr. Hayvescroft, who had come into the ballroom to join his guests.

A few of my school friends and a matron or two came up to ask how I was and start up a little conversation in the hopes of learning a juicy tidbit about the Cove. Miss Marlene Nesbitt even ventured to say, with a tone somewhere between awe and astonishment, "But weren't you awfully frightened, Miss Huddleston? I think I should faint if I left Asheville for such a strange place!"

"I was frightened at first," I said, "but there were many good people there to help me through my fears."

Miss Marlene shivered at the very notion, and was soon after swept off by her mother, who gave me a sharpish look before hurrying her daughter away.

Eileen, who would have been able to ease the awkwardness of the situation, could not come help me; I had seen her when I came in, and she was busy waltzing with Charles Prescott. Eventually, however, the small group which had gathered around me dispersed, and I was left to myself.

I chose one of the plush velvet chairs lining the wall and sat down, and my eye was immediately caught by a wall-length mirror in an ornate gilt frame set just opposite my seat; the girl staring back at me was unfamiliar, strange – a small, fragile girl encased in a beautiful layer of silvery-grey silk, with wide blue eyes that seemed to overtake her narrow face, cheeks powdered carefully with talcum and the slightest bit of rouge.

I stared back at my reflection, struck by what I saw – this couldn't be me. It wasn't me. Suddenly I wondered what Dr. MacNeill would think to see me now, dressed up like one of the dolls on my shelf, looking exactly like every other pretty and polished young lady in the room.

Someone laughed, and I looked over to see George standing next to me. "Admiring yourself, hmm?" he taunted, taking my elbow to steer me toward the dance floor. "Leave that duty for the gentlemen, Prissy."

I was embarrassed to be caught gaping at the mirror, but I could hardly explain my revelation to him. "Let's just dance, okay?"

"Fine by me."

I danced my first waltz with George, and then the next two dances with first Charles and then – to Mother's delight – Rupert Lloyd, who looked no different at twenty than he had at fourteen. He was just as mischievous as ever, and I felt certain that if he had for some reason been in possession of a worm, he would have slipped it down my bodice just for old times' sake.

Still, I enjoyed the company of all three of my partners – although George and Rupert teased me mercilessly – and I returned to my seat flushed and laughing, well-satisfied with the evening's turnout.

There was a small pause in the activity as everyone collected some refreshments and the orchestra tuned up for the next set. Seeing the long line for the heavily-laden tables, I decided to wait until everyone else had eaten. To my surprise, however, the host himself brought me a plate of cold meats and cheese and a glass of wine.

"I thought you might like a little something," Mr. Hayvescroft boomed, handing over the dainty china platter. "Your father was just telling me about your recent indisposition, and if you don't mind me saying so, my dear, you're looking a bit weary – so, I brought you a few things. You've been dancing up a storm, and you must be hungry. We can't have you fainting on us now, can we?"

I accepted the plate gratefully. "Thank you. Won't you have something too?"

"Oh, I'd better not. If I don't watch what I eat, Sophie will for me." He looked over fondly at his wife, who was busily directing the serving-men behind the tables. "I've been sneaking things here and there all day."

He laughed, and I joined in – I liked Mr. Hayvescroft. Something about him reminded me of Father, and, oddly enough, of Miss Alice. He was complaisant, good-humored, and discerning, yet seemingly unaware of all the wealth surrounding him in his own house. I wondered briefly whether it was actually Mrs. Hayvescroft who planned these elaborate parties.

We talked for a few minutes more; he was full of questions about my students and the things I had learned about the mountains, but for some reason, his inquisitiveness didn't make me as uncomfortable as it had with the others. Before I knew it, the music was beginning again, and people were starting to pair off.

Mr. Hayvescroft rose from his chair. "I would ask you to dance, Miss Huddleston, but I'm afraid that gout doesn't take kindly to the practice." He paused, and then spotted a sandy-haired young man who was passing by us. "Ah, Hale! Hale, this is Miss Huddleston, John Huddleston's daughter. Miss Huddleston, this is my cousin, Richard Hale." I stood and curtsied, and the gentleman bowed.

"Have you got a partner for the next dance, lad? Ah, good! Here's one who won't fail to please you – why don't you have a dance with Miss Huddleston?" Mr. Hayvescroft urged me forward, beaming. "Such a pretty young lady shouldn't be without a partner."

"I would be very pleased to dance with Miss Huddleston, if she will grant me the honor." Mr. Hale gave me a genuine smile, and I accepted his hand readily.

Mr. Hayvescroft grinned at me conspiratorially as he stepped off the ballroom floor, which was quickly filling with couples. "You look very fine on my cousin's arm, madam – and Hale, do try not to bore her with your infernal medical talk." With that, he winked and left us to dance.

"Are you a doctor, Mr. Hale?" I asked, as the orchestra began to play.

"Almost," he said. "I have one year of medical school left before I receive my degree."

"Are you from Asheville?"

"No. I'm only staying here with my uncle for the Christmas holidays. I live in Boston."

I thought of David. "Do you know a family called Grantland?"

"I can't say I've had that pleasure," he said politely. "Should I know them?"

Of course he wouldn't – Boston was an enormous city. The chances of Mr. Hale knowing David were very slim; it was ridiculous to have asked anyway. "I...I just wondered. The minister down in Cutter Gap is from Boston – David Grantland."

"Cutter Gap." He whirled me around in a circle. "Cutter Gap, Tennessee?"

"Yes," I said eagerly. "Have you been there?"

"No, but I heard of the typhoid epidemic. It was all the talk here; it seems that there was danger of it passing over the border." He shook his head. "Sad business indeed. I understand there were over a dozen fatalities in all. Such a great pity, but then...well, I suppose the people do bring these things on themselves."

I nearly tripped. "I beg your pardon?"

"I didn't mean that they deserve it, Miss Huddleston – it's just that the filthy living conditions and their atrocious attitude toward hygiene contribute to these tragedies."

"Have you ever been to the mountains at all, Mr. Hale?"

"No, but I've heard a great deal about them, particularly the poverty and ignorance of even the most basic medical procedures. Surely you couldn't have failed to notice that." There was a slight hint of condescension in his voice.

"Yes, I did notice it, but those...disadvantages aren't everything. The people there – if you knew what they were like –"

He made a gesture as if he were tipping his hat to me. "I defer to your superior knowledge of the mountaineers, Miss Huddleston; I am merely making an observation."

"They prefer to be called mountain people," I said automatically.

Mr. Hale's eyebrows rose, and I was suddenly ashamed of myself for being so judgmental. Hadn't I once believed the same things?

"I'm sure you misunderstand me, Miss Huddleston," he said, more gently. "It is a proven fact that these people are prime candidates for epidemics because of their lifestyle. If they took better care of themselves, perhaps these scourges wouldn't happen."

Better care of themselves? So, by his token it was all their own fault – that good people like Fairlight and Lety Coburn had only themselves to blame for that catastrophe? He spoke as if the highlanders were poor by choice!

Apparently Mr. Hale took my silence as encouragement, for he continued, "It's not only the people. If there was better medical care available..."

"There is plenty of good medical care," I blurted out. "The Cove has a physician, and he's a wonderful man. You don't know him, how dedicated and skilled he is, how much he cares about his patients."

There was a small twist of a smile on Mr. Hale's face. "As you say, Miss Huddleston. I'm certain he does the best he can. Country doctors serve their purpose."

"Dr. MacNeill is not a country doctor! He was educated in Philadelphia; he went to a prestigious medical college and graduated with honors. He had three city offers to set up his own practice, but he chose to make a sacrifice and return to the mountains to serve his friends."

Mr. Hale's expression was skeptical, and my temper flared. How could he criticize Dr. MacNeill?

"He saved my life," I cried. "You should have seen how tirelessly he worked, how he jeopardized his own health to help others recover from the typhoid. He saved them."

Not all of them. His smile spoke of his opinion as clearly as if he had said the words aloud. "Of course."

I glared at him so fiercely he took a step backwards. "How dare you insult my friends? You don't know anything about Cutter Gap or Dr. MacNeill. If city medicine is so superior, and you knew the need was so great, why didn't you come down to help when you heard of the epidemic? I was under the impression that all doctors are supposed to offer their services when patients are in need."

Angry color flared in Mr. Hale's face. "Not that it's any of your business, Miss Huddleston, but I had no call to go into Tennessee – some of your doctor's colleagues ought to have assisted him."

I knew he was right, and that my arguments were unreasonable, but I was so angry and disappointed that I couldn't think clearly. "I'm tired, Mr. Hale," I said at last, stopping right there on the dance floor while the other couples continued to waltz around us. "I would like to sit down for awhile."

"Fine." Taking care to put as much distance between us as possible, he marched me off the floor to the chairs. I noticed that we were attracting some attention, and I had the strong desire to run out of the room – away from those staring eyes – and go back home. Home. Where was home?

My partner paused by my chair, and I let go of his arm, grateful that my parents and George were nowhere in sight. "Thank you for the escort. Good evening, Mr. Hale."

"Good evening, Miss Huddleston." Mr. Hale bowed coldly and moved on, and I sank down on my seat by the wall, staring out unseeingly over the gaily dancing couples. Suddenly the glittering chamber and its occupants seemed to have lost their rosy lustre, and I felt deflated, somehow – and very lonely.

A/N: Sigh. I think Christy's ready to go home now, don't you? Of course, she still has to tell her parents...hmm...

In Ms. Marshall's notes for the sequel to "Christy," she had indicated that Mr. Huddleston would be the biggest proponent of the idea that Christy should stay in Asheville after the epidemic. The series, however, seemed to paint Mrs. Huddleston as the parent who discouraged Christy from teaching in Cutter Gap. It's interesting how the producers of the show took that characteristic and placed it in the mother instead of the father. I'll try to mix both versions up a bit in the next chapter and see what comes of it. ; )

Thanks to everyone who continues to read and review!