“The ballroom might have held the house where I grew up, and its gilded and painted ceiling was so high I could barely make out what the fresco depicted. When we entered, the governor, Flora, and Henry were announced with much pomp. I hung back behind them as the assembled crowd cheered the governor’s entrance. He escorted Flora down the steps into the ballroom, Henry a few feet behind them and me trailing after the whole group. Henry shot a few glances over his shoulder at me, so I knew I wasn’...t entirely forgotten. We had seats on a dais at one end of the room, as guests of honor. The governor’s was practically a throne, and those for Henry and Flora were also grand, with velvet cushions. I had a modest chair at the rear of the dais, in Flora’s shadow. I quietly lowered myself onto it and willed myself to be invisible. I’d thought that the last ball I’d attended had been an elaborate affair, and had scoffed at the idea that it was considered a very modest event. Now I understood why Flora had described it that way, for this ball outstripped it.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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