Ella Enchanted - By Gail Carson Levine Page 0,41

I miss my guess. I have gone to offer her my hand, and to tell her that my heart is already hers. If my suit is successfull, I shall send for you so that you may become reacquainted with her.

Reacquainted?

Spare her any tidings of our poverty, although I flatter myself that there is not a shred of greed in Dame Olga's affection for me.

As an accepted suitor or a disappointed lover, I shall see you soon. Until then, and always,

Your father

Dame Olga! Hattie would be my sister!

20

DAME OLGA accepted Father's offer. In expressing her satisfaction at gaining a new daughter, she nearly suffocated me.

"My darling, you must call me Mum. Mum Olga sounds so cozy."

The wedding was to be in a week, as soon as arrangements could be made, and as soon as Hattie and Olive returned from finishing school.

"They won't go back after the wedding," Mum Olga said. "They have learned enough. We shall stay here together, and you must all endeavor to lighten my desolation when my husband is away." Her eyes followed Father, who was crossing her parlor to gaze out the window.

"And who will lift my desolation?" he asked, his back to her.

A blush deepened the color in her rouged cheeks. She was besotted with him.

He was all solicitude, all tender attention. She was kittenish, coy, and syrupy. I couldn't be with them for five minutes without wanting to scream.

Fortunately, my presence was required very little. I was rarely invited to Mum Olga's residence, and Father kept her away from our manor, which was day by day being emptied to satisfy his debt.

I cared little about the furniture, except for the fairy rug, which Mandy and I hid one afternoon when Father was with Mum Olga. We also rescued the best of Mother's gowns, because Mandy swore I would shoot up someday soon, and then they would fit me. But we didn't dare touch Mother's jewels. Father would have known if so much as a brass pin had been missing. Anyway, none of them equaled the necklace Hattie had taken from me.

The week was quiet. I spent my days and nights mostly with Mandy. During the day, I helped her cook and clean. At night I read from my fairy book, or we chatted by the kitchen fire.

My only ventures outside were to the royal pastures to see Apple. I had hoped to meet Char there, but the grooms told me he was still chasing ogres.

The first time I visited Apple was the day after I returned to Frell. He stood under a tree, his attention fixed on three brown leaves that clung to a low branch. As I watched, he reared back, lifted his head, and reached for a leaf just beyond his grasp.

In the bunched muscles of his back legs and the straining line from his hips to the tips of his fingers, he was splendid. If Agulen could have seen him, another pottery sculpture would have been born.

I whistled. He whirled and stared at me. I held out a carrot and whistled again, a song about mermaids, Apple's distant cousins. When he saw the treat, he smiled and trotted to me, both hands extended.

Soon, he let me pet his mane and came when I whistled although no food was in sight. It wasn't long before the sight of me inspired as much happiness as a carrot.

I began to confide in him. His wide-eyed attention was an invitation, and his trick of cocking his head to one side while I spoke made me feel that every word was a revelation, although he understood none of it.

"Hattie hates me and makes me do things, never mind why. Olive likes me, which is hardly an advantage. Mum Olga is odious. You and Mandy are the only ones who love me, and you're the only one who will never order me about."

Apple watched my face, his sweet, empty eyes staring into mine, his lips curled into a smile.

* * *

THE WEDDING was held in the old castle. Mum Olga wanted it to take place in our manor, but Father said the castle would be more romantic. Against such an argument she had no weapons.

When we arrived, Father went in straightaway to see to details of the ceremony and of the masked ball that would follow. I slipped into the garden to visit the candle trees, which, devoid of their leaves, resembled rows of skeletal arms bent at the elbow.

The day was cold. I passed the candles and