Free Just Like Magic by Elizabeth Townsend Page B

sophisticated, but I noticed it was her fingers that twitched the envelope out of Stepmama’s fingers. She then opened it maddeningly slowly, glaring at Gerta, who was bobbing at her shoulder to get a look.
“Now, girls!” said Stepmama, feebly trying to retrieve the invitation herself.
“I’ll read it aloud,” said Lucy, holding it away from everyone else. “If you would give me enough room!”
Gerta, scowling, allowed her mother to lead her away. Lucy strolled into the sitting room, read the invitation to herself, and frowned as Gerta whined, “Mama! She’s delaying on purpose!”
“Really, Gerta, it’s only an invitation. Anyone would think you’d never been invited anywhere before,” snapped Lucy. “Here, read it yourself.” She thrust the paper and name cards into Gerta’s snatching hands. I tried to get closer to read it, too, but Gerta pulled away, her lips moving as she read. “Well, for heaven’s sake, why was she invited?” she said hotly.
“My feelings precisely,” said Lucy, glaring at me.
Stepmama pulled the invitation away from Gerta and read, “‘Their Royal Majesties would be honored…ball on the twenty-eighth of October, nine o’clock in the evening—’”
“But look who the cards are addressed to!” wailed Gerta.
Stepmama peered at the names. “‘Her Grace the Dowager Duchess of Derham, Lady Lucinda Stenleigh, Lady Gertrude Stenleigh, and Miss Merton.’ Well, my dears, I see nothing wrong. Did they misspell your names?” She handed us each our cards.
“They invited Ella!” snapped Lucy.
“Why, so they did,” faltered Stepmama. “I wonder why? Probably because she had been on the list to be presented at court this spring. Of course she wasn’t presented, but—”
“Mama! Since she hasn’t been presented, how could she go to the palace now?” Gerta was pink in the face.
“But if she was invited, my dears,” Stepmama protested weakly, “oughtn’t she to go?”
“It must have been a mistake,” said Lucy swiftly. “They must have used the wrong list!”
“Do you really think so?” Stepmama’s brow wrinkled.
“It would be ridiculous if she went!” said Lucy, being careful not to look at me. “She hasn’t been presented! She wouldn’t know how to behave!”
“And she hasn’t anything to wear!” added Gerta.
“But none of you have anything to wear,” said Stepmama plaintively. “For a ball at the palace we shall all need new gowns, and how we shall get them I still do not know!”
“You see?” Lucy pounced quickly. “There’s barely enough for us, who have a right to go. If she went, we’d all be in rags!”
Stepmama sighed unhappily. Gerta jumped in. “It’s not that we think that Ella should never go to a royal ball, Mama—”
“Well, certainly not—”
“It’s just that it’s not her turn yet! We’re older, and it’s only fair that we should have our turn first. Isn’t it so, Lucy?”
“Of course! After all, there’ll be many, many more balls, won’t there, Mama? So you see, it’s just a matter of—of being sensible and prudent!”
“It wouldn’t be sensible if we weren’t dressed well!”
“It would be such a disappointment if—”
Stepmama raised a quivering chin and said, “Oh, my dears, I know how special this ball is to you, and I wouldn’t want you to be disappointed—”
“Then it’s decided!” said Lucy, shooting a triumphant glance at me.
“Darling, darling mama!” Gerta embraced her.
And me? I stood by the window with my arms folded, about to burst. To be this close, and to see the dream snatched away again! But I took a deep breath, kept my mouth shut, and fled down the kitchen stairs, slipping my invitation card into my pocket as I went. Whisking my woolen shawl on, I banged my way out the back door into the garden.
The sky was gray and the garden was dying. The first heavy frost had come the previous night. Tomato vines were brown and drooping; dry cornstalks stood rustling against the fence, and giant