hand, his lips parted wide to put at least half inside
with one bite, when the telephone in the hall rang.
Paul groaned as he put down his fork. I groaned too,
for I had made my first cheese souffle and it had to be
eaten right away. "Would you mind getting that,
Cathy?" he asked.
"I really want to dig into your souffle. It looks
delicious and it smells heavenly."
"You sit right there and eat," I said, jumping up
and hurrying to answer, "and I'll do what I can to
protect you from the pesky Mrs. Williamson. . . ." He softly laughed and flashed me an amused
look as he picked his fork up again. "It may not be my
lonely widow lady with another of her minor
afflictions." Chris went right on eating.
I picked up the phone and in my most adult and
gracious way I said, "Dr. Paul Sheffield's residence." "This is Emily Dean Dewhurst calling," said the
stern voice on the other end. "Please put Dr. Sheffield
on the phone immediately!"
"Miss Dewhurst!" I said, already alarmed. "This
is Cathy, Carrie's sister. Is Carrie all right?"
"You and Dr. Sheffield are needed here
immediately!"
"Miss Dewhurst--"
But she didn't let me finish. "It seems that your
younger sister has disappeared rather mysteriously. On
Sundays those girls who are being punished by
weekend liberty denial are required to attend chapel
services. I myself called the roll and Carrie did not
respond to her name." My heart beat faster,
apprehensive of what I was to hear next, but my finger