What does it matter what color I wear?” Charlotte couldn’t keep the annoyance from her voice as her parent dithered between two gowns laid out on Charlotte’s bed. Roberta clicked her tongue. “It’s always important to present yourself the very best you can, regardless of who you’ll see or expect to. Who knows what gentlemen will talk to you tonight?” She glanced at Charlotte, who stood off to one side in her stays and petticoat. “How do you plan to wear your hair, dear? I suppose we should decide once we settle upon a gown.” Oh, good heavens. It’s as if I don’t exist at all! Charlotte flounced into an overstuffed chair. “Why do I even try to tell you what I want?” “I’m as baffled as you are,” Roberta returned. “You’ll see that I’m right eventually.” “I’m not in the mood to attend the opera tonight, Mother. I had already planned to occupy myself with reading while you and Felix and Clarice go without me.”
