"Kathy and Jerry, going at it. And old Lincoln rolling in his grave."

"What's gotten into you?" he gasped.

"You," she hissed.

He gazed at her, somewhat perplexed.

"Is this you?" he asked.

"The real me."

"The real you?"

"Aren't I disgusting?"

She laughed at herself, and so did he. And for that day and night it was the way she had dreamed it could be.

The following morning dawned bright, and by 9:00 A.m. Thorn was dressed for the wedding and moving jauntily down the stairs.

"Kathy?" he called.

"Not ready," her voice replied from upstairs.

"We're going to be late."

"That's true."

"They might wait for us, you know. We ought to make an effort."

"I'm making an effort."

"Is Damien dressed?"

"Hope so."

"I don't want to be late."

"Ask Mrs. Horton to make us some toast."

"I don't want any toast."

"I want some toast."

"Hurry up."

Outside, Horton had already pulled the limousine into place; Thorn stepped out and gave him a wait-a-minute signal, then moved quickly to the kitchen.

Katherine hurried from her room, tying the sash on her white dress, and moved toward Damien's, calling ahead of her as she went.

"Let's go, Damien. We're all ready!"

She stopped in his room, for he was nowhere in sight. She heard the sound of bathwater running in the tub and quickly entered the bathroom. She gasped in dismay. Damien was still in the bath, Mrs. Baylock washing him as he played.

"Mrs. Baylock," moaned Katherine, "I told you to have him dressed and ready . . ."

"If you don't mind, ma'am, I think he'd rather go to the park."

"I told you we were taking him to church!"

"Church is no place for a little boy on such a sunny day."

The woman was smiling, apparently feeling it didn't matter.

"Well, I'm sorry," replied Katherine evenly. "It's important that he go to church."

"He's too young for church. He'll just cause a fuss."

There was something in her tone and manner, perhaps too calm and innocent as she openly defied her, that set Katherine's teeth on edge.

"You don't seem to understand," said Katherine firmly. "I want him to accompany us to church."

Mrs. Baylock tensed, offended by Katherine's tone of voice. The child felt it too, moving closer to his nanny as she gazed up at his mother from her position on the floor.

"Has he been to church before?" Mrs. Baylock asked.

"I don't see what that has to do . . ."

"Kathy?!" called Thorn from downstairs.

"In a minute!" she called back.

She gazed harshly at Mrs. Baylock; the woman gazed back calmly.

"Get him dressed at once," said Katherine.

"Excuse me for speaking my mind, but do you really expect a four-year-old to understand the gibberish of a Catholic wedding?"

Katherine sucked in her breath.

"I am Catholic, Mrs. Baylock, and so is my husband."

"I guess someone has to be," the woman retorted. Katherine stood stunned, outraged by the open defiance.