“Hmm,” Lizzy said, thinking that this wasn’t much help, either. “Well, keep your ears open for me, would you?”

The silence stretched out a little. “If you don’ mind me askin’, how come?” Sally-Lou asked, almost warily. “Somethin’ bad goin’ on over there?”

“Oh, no,” Lizzy replied hastily. “I’m just curious, that’s all.” Before Sally-Lou could ask another question, she said, “Could I speak to Mother now?”

“Sho thing, Miss Lizzy,” Sally-Lou said. “Hang on—I get her.”

Lizzy took a deep breath. When her mother came on the line, she said, very firmly, “Thank you for fixing my hat, Mama, but tonight isn’t a good night to have supper together.”

“Oh, dear,” Mrs. Lacy said, and heaved a pained sigh. “Whyever not, Elizabeth?” There was a brief pause, and then her usual question, tinged with hopefulness: “You and Mr. Alexander are goin’ out for supper, I s’pose.”

Grady Alexander had been Lizzy’s boyfriend, more or less, for the past year or so. Mrs. Lacy, who had gotten used to having her unmarried daughter handy whenever she was needed, had opposed the relationship at first, finding all kinds of reasons why Grady wasn’t right for Lizzy. But in the past couple of months, she seemed to have changed her mind about him and was now leaning the other way—and leaning on Lizzy about it, too.

“You’re not gettin’ any younger, you know, dear,” she said, several times a week. “There aren’t that many eligible men in Darling. And he is such a fine-lookin’ gentleman.”

This sudden change of heart was a mystery, since Grady was exactly the same person he had always been. But maybe the answer was as simple as a dependable paycheck. Grady had a job in the Alabama Agricultural Department and it looked like he was going to keep it. Or maybe it was a matter of status. As the county agricultural agent, he was respected in the community. Either money or status, in Mrs. Lacy’s eyes, might have transformed him from Mr. Wrong to Mr. Right.

Lizzy took a deep breath. “No, Mama, I am not going out with Grady tonight. Myra May and Verna and I are going to the movie—just us girls. We’re going to see The Saturday Night Kid. Clara Bow stars in it.”

The minute the words were out of her mouth, though, she knew she had made a mistake. Her mother didn’t approve of Clara Bow, the “It Girl.” (Nobody knew what “It” was, exactly, but everybody suspected it was “Sex Appeal.”) In fact, Mrs. Lacy had told Mr. Greer, the owner of the Palace, that he should not show any more movies starring Clara Bow, because she was nothing but pure trash.

Mrs. Lacy said testily, “I wish you wouldn’t, Elizabeth. You know my opinion of Clara Bow.”

“Yes, I know, Mama. But—”

“And don’t you think we could have supper first?” Her voice tightened. “There’s something we need to talk about, Elizabeth. Something important. Surely you can spare a little time for your mother, can’t you?”