Of course, this was not the first time Lady Jocelyn Dashwood had taken me by surprise.

But that doesn't mean I was caught any less off-guard.

"W...What?"

I knew that she had knowledge of my aunt. But how had she grabbed Daphne out of the clear blue sky?

Jocelyn gave me that lovely yet slightly mischievous smile of hers. She reached into her jacket pocket...

...and pulled out Daphne's most recent school picture, daintily setting it in front of me.

Oh yeah. I had given her that picture, hadn't I?

"Your cousin?"

Yes, my cousin. That clever Jocelyn. Or rather, that dumb Meghan, for not realizing this sooner. Dumb me.

And as might be expected, all I could do was smile at her, nodding, embarrassed at how silly I was. This was very, very awkward.

But Daphne's grandmother just kept right on smiling.

"I thought so. Actually, you may not believe this, but I've thought so this entire time."

"You have?"

"I have. One look at those eyes, Meghan. My Henry - those are his eyes. And that smile. I'd recognize it anywhere."

I couldn't help but grin at that.

"But oh, I see someone else in this lovely girl. I see a strong, radiant woman I once knew. That look, that demeanor...not to mention that nose. It's a dead giveaway."

I couldn't stop smiling. Jocelyn always knew how to make things comfortable. She was prim and proper all the way through, exuding dignity and sophistication - but in a way that never made you feel inferior, or pressured to act in a certain fashion. Jocelyn made herself care about etiquette and prestige, but knew that real emotion, real compassion, real happiness - that was what mattered.

"Do you remember her name?" I asked her.

"That would be Daphne, I believe."

"That it is."

I thought to myself, and realized that I still hadn't answered her question.

"You asked what she was like...well..."

Jocelyn waited.

"She's wonderful."

I heard her take a deep breath, and for the first time, I saw her lose her perfect composure. Just a tiny bit. She was shaking her head.

"Oh, Meghan..." Jocelyn breathed. She looked away. "I...I promised myself I wouldn't...but Meghan, you don't know how long I've...waited for this..."

Tears were threatening my eyes as I watched her. I'd never seen her so happy. So happy that...she was crying.

She's waited for you, too, Lady Dashwood. All of her life.

I thought it. That sentence. And then, I said it.

Late that afternoon, a black station wagon pulled up in front of the Dashwood mansion. The passenger door opened, and Faye Winthrop stepped out, then proceeding to walk around to the back of the car. The trunk lid popped up, and she pulled out a rather large duffel bag, lugging it down to the ground before closing the trunk. She then lifted it again, bid goodbye to her mother, and stepped directly in front of the foreboding iron gates.

The watchman seemed to know why she was there; he nodded briskly and within seconds the gates began to move apart. Faye was intimidated, as she had been the night before.

Here was a gigantic house that screamed wealth, prosperity, and prestige. Here too was a flawless, perfectly kept courtyard - a garden that looked like it required some sort of mathematical calculation to have achieved its symmetry. The ground was different...enchanted perhaps. There was something about it that made Faye tread lighter, move forward with care.

Upon reaching the gleaming doors, she rang the gleaming doorbell, and was soon face-to-face with the gleaming butler. Said butler beckoned her in, before shuffling off to fetch "Miss Reynolds".

When Miss Reynolds did appear moments later, sporting a peasant top and ruffly skirt, Faye was relieved for a brief moment by the bright smile that greeted her. But not long after, fear came rushing back, and she stood up straighter. The extreme nervousness of feeling inferior was now coupled with the equally jarring prospect of having to speak with Meghan about the things that were said and done, as well as some lingering guilt besides.

Last night had been traumatic, and everyone had been too flustered to make confrontations. Would today be different?

"Hello, Faye!" was what Meghan said first. "Gimme that."

Meghan immediately came over and took the bag, setting it down beside them before embracing a tense Faye.

"I'm so happy to see you." she said into the blonde's shoulder. Faye heard earnest emotion in Meghan's words. She wrapped her arms around to return the hug, and even felt a hesitant smile creep onto her face.

"Afternoon, Meghan."

As Meghan drew back, she saw that Faye was smiling a little but

looked quite pained. Thoughts ran through Meghan's mind. She had once known this girl to be talkative beyond belief, but had now come to know a new side - one that involved the packing of millions of words and emotions into a single, short statement. Yes. No. Afternoon, Meghan.

Meghan grabbed the duffel bag before Ganes could get his hands on it.

"C'mon. This way." she told Faye brightly, guiding her with her free hand.

They were soon in the room where Meghan was to be dwelling. The bag was set on the bed, and Meghan unzipped it to glance into it briefly.

"I brought you several changes of clothes...uniforms...toothbrush and all that."

"Thank you." Meghan said. But rather than starting to dig out the bag's contents to set them in their proper temporary places, she closed the flap and sat down on the bed.

"So, how've you been?" she asked Faye.

Her hesitant smile returned.

"Fair to cloudy." she replied. "And yourself?"

Meghan tried to think of a weather report.

"Um...sunny with clouds and possible tornado conditions?"

Faye chuckled a little, but was still as stiff as a board. Meghan responded to this by holding her hand out and moving her fingers together in the "come here" motion. When Faye came forward, Meghan patted the space beside her. Faye sat down, and it was then that an arm was draped around her, pulling her towards the American dressed as a hippie.

"What's it going to take to cure you, huh, Faye?"

Faye looked at Meghan, and was in danger of going into tear-mode. She was confused, and in wonder.

"Why are you so calm?" she asked Meghan. "Why does nothing faze you?"

"Is that what you've been wondering, all this time?"

"I marvel at your life, at what I've seen of it. I cannot understand you. But I understand myself even less."

Meghan hesitated for a moment.

"Then you and I have something in common. We've both lost our identities." she said.

Faye said nothing, though her eyes widened as if her mind had been read.

"Tell me all of it." Meghan told her friend gently. "Tell me how you knew. About my cousin, and about..."

Faye waited.

"...Alistair."

Meghan saw her turn away.

"So I am not crazy."

"No." Meghan said breathlessly. "And I would be gone if it weren't for you."

Faye paused only a moment, before forcing herself to speak.

"The day you left with...one day, when you were gone...." she began, "Your brown bag was on the floor in our bedroom, and the cat was clawing at it. I think you remember. I took the bag away from him, and numerous things...fell out."

Meghan looked on, already starting to guess the rest.

"I bent to pick everything up, and I found your white envelope, and...oh dear, how I hate myself for what I did..."

"Faye, don't..."

"I read what I shouldn't have read. And I was immediately overcome with regret, which has not left me since. I felt like a conniving urchin, and now felt as if I could never know you. As if you'd always, in the end, be a stranger to me."

That was it. In that instant, Meghan knew what had troubled Faye and what obviously still troubled her now. Ignoring Clarissa and her cruel ploys, acting as if they were nothing, had been what first separated the exchange student and her host-sister. Then her time spent with...him...had put Meghan farther away on Faye's coordinate plane. Finally, the contents of that envelope had placed the two girls on entirely different planets. And this relocation to a mansion, Meghan thought, must be making things infinitely worse.

"Then there was the prank with the bucket..." Faye went on. "It was Emily's plan. I took the blame because I knew why you stopped them, and I thought that by accepting fault, it might make them less resentful to you...they'd get a lighter sentence than myself, you see. I'm not sure it worked very well."

Faye closed her eyes.

"And finally, Clarissa got to me...truly...and my actions were far worse than any of theirs. Meghan, I can't tell you how sorry I am and always will be -"

"I already know, Faye. That's all behind us."

But nonetheless, Meghan had to draw her companion closer, to comfort her as she began to cry. And they stayed that way, Faye's tears spilling down, her emotions finally being set free. Then she tried to gather herself, reaching into her small purse for a handkerchief. Sitting up straight, she wiped her face and nose. Then her hands fell into her lap.

"I was there. In the park, the night of the dance, mere feet from you." came her shaky words. "And my eyes did not fail me. The guilt belongs to that vile Alistair Payne."

"Only you and I know that."

Faye was silent. Somehow, she couldn't shake the feeling that she herself was just as vile as Alistair was.

"Let me tell you something." Meghan said. "You don't know how grateful I am to you. And you also have no clue whatsoever how much your friendship now means to me."

The blonde turned to face her, giving her a look that was half-resigned, half-stunned.

"You think that you've done me so much wrong. But if you hadn't opened that envelope, it would have all been over. You wouldn't have been able to save me."

Meghan looked straight into Faye's strained eyes, with tears mounting in her own.

"But you did save me. You're incredible, Faye. And brave. Thank you."

With this, Meghan saw something. Finally, light was beginning to return to Faye's face. As if the weight had been lifted, as if all the anguish and grief were flowing out of her eyes. Here was Faye's release. Her shoulders relaxed. For once in a very long while, someone was easing the

pain.

"I'd do it again." It was an understatement.

But Meghan had learned to decipher what was meant by the understatements she now often heard. She'd come to know many people who didn't wear each deep emotion of theirs on their sleeves, who didn't make their feelings blatantly obvious. Not everything had to be said, to know what was true.

Meghan smiled broadly.

"Guess what?" she said. "I have two best friends now."

At long last, Faye beamed.

"But as one of them, there is one prerequisite you must fill." Meghan told her, acting business-like. "You must talk and talk, constantly, as if your life depended on it."

A wonderful laugh came from the girl in braids.

"I think...perhaps...it does depend on it."

"You may be right." Meghan said with a grin. "The depression will kill you otherwise."

Faye laughed some more at that, looking down, bashful. She was all too aware of the chatterbox she was, as her true self.

"I can't believe," she mused to Meghan, "you're actually going to be living with Clarissa."

Meghan chuckled, letting herself fall back on the luxury down comforter.

"I can't believe it, either." she said. "Wanna go freeze her undergarments?"

Faye fell into one of the pillows, and Meghan sat up, confused - until she saw her friend's upper body moving with hysterical laughter. At last.

Okay. Again, I hope these were somewhat enjoyable. I am very sorry that I took so long to post them; I've had a lot of stresses and distractions but nevertheless have not given up. Eventually this story will end...properly. Anyhow. I plan to have more up in about two weeks, if anyone's still interested. :/ Those still reading - you rock, and I commend you. It means a LOT to me.

Review if you want, only if you want...and I WILL be back. Also, there is chinese food and Coco Puffs available as always, in the Food Room (first door on the right), and I'll be taking requests for other tasty snacks.

Yours and in fact not dead

-rf-