Rose Nelson bolted into the room and came to an abrupt halt, one white hand moving to clutch at her slender side, sore from the frenzied pursuit down the long flight of stairs and across the wide hall. Her dark blue eyes searched the room, quickly pin-pointing her sister's whereabouts and narrowing.

"You can't get away from me, Doit Nelson," she announced, her breathless voice showing the effects of their long chase. "You will go, even if I have to tie your hands together and drag your stubborn young body every inch of the way."

"You?" The contemptuous tone of the question was offset by the mischievous grin that flashed across the girl's face. With a deliberate motion, Doit flung down the skirts which she had been clutching high about her knees as she ran. As the folds of cloth fell to the floor in a silent gesture that flight had turned to battle, Rose Nelson's eyes sparked fire.

"Yes, me, you . . . . you unruly savage!"

"Me!" The petite girl gasped, clasping her hands to her chest in mock horror. "Me, a savage?" she repeated and suddenly her voice broke into rippling laugher. "Oh, Rose, Rose, for shame! What would Beatrice McLane or Jennifer Winters say if they heard you use such an unrefined word?"

"You hush, Dortea Nelson!" the blond ordered taking a menacing step nearer. "You're always criticizing my friends. If it weren't for the fact that you were such an uncivilized boob yourself --"

"Boob!" the sister erupted and bent over double with a sudden burst of laughter. "Oh, Miss Prim Rose Nelson, beware!" she gasped. "Your language grows increasingly unrefined!"

The blond was about to retaliate when there came the faint but unmistakable sound of the front door opening and closing. Battle forgotten brown and blue eyes met in mutual alarm before swinging fearfully toward the figure which stepped through the doorway.

"Nell!" The youngest cried, relief and pleasure radiating from her sparkling voice. "Salt and pepper, but I wish you wouldn't sneak up on a person that way. For one horrid instant I thought your were Stephen come back to the scene of his crimes."

"It might have served you a lesson had I been Father," Helen Nelson remarked, not unkindly, as, pulling white gloves from hands that were too slender and white, she sank wearily into the chair Doit now leaned over the back of.

The woman's face seemed too pale, her normally colorful eyes dark shadowed and dull.

"I heard your lusty discussion before entering the house," she told them sternly. "May I inquire why you two brawling beauties are down here and not up in your rooms making yourselves socially acceptable?"

"Doit," was the blonde's one word of explanation. "She prefers to stay home and sulk."

"Not sulk," the girl's hearty denial came as she swept around the chair to drop to her knees where, grabbing Helen's thin hands in her own firm ones, she looked up into her sister's eyes.

"You understand, don't you, Nell," she stated more than asked. "It was hard enough sitting through that long stuffy wedding, pretending I was all happy and thrilled to have such a charming new stepmother. I just can't maintain such an untrue pretense. Honest I can't do it, Nell! I'll explode and do or say something that will land us all in trouble."

"I'm sure it will be nothing compared to the trouble you'll be in if you don't attend your father's wedding reception," Helen warned, hardening herself against the wide, expressive, dark brown eyes. "He might be to busy with his new bride to do anything at present, but when Father returns from his honeymoon he'll remember your absence and then look out, Miss Dortea Nelson!"

"Yes, well . . . ." The young girl pondered a moment. "I suppose I knew I had to go in the end. But it was sport to see Rose so flustered, wasn't it?" Smiling sweetly at her fair-haired sister Doit scrambled to her feet. As she crossed to link arms with Rose, the recent disagreement, as all of their disagreements were, became quickly forgotten.

"Come along then, Rose, my dearest amiga. Let's you and I make ourselves beautiful for this grand battle. But do be a lamb, and step in should you notice your hot-headed baby sister about to lose control, won't you?"

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Copyrighted © 1996 by Antelope Publishing All rights reserved.

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