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wall. Tulsa May was not overly fond of clothing or accessories, but she loved her millinery. Her mother once accused her of having two dozen hats. Tulsa May was grateful that Mrs. Bruder had never checked the boxes beneath the bed or she would have seen twice that many. Hats were Tulsa May's one true weakness and strongest temptation. But she never scolded herself for it.
    }If God hadn't wanted her to buy hats, she told herself, he wouldn't have given her orange hair.
    }Tonight she chose a tiny Venice bonnet that sat squarely on the top of her head. Its dark green velvet facing and bow was accented by a darker silk lace and a jetted aigrette that poked jauntily from the back. It was a charming hat, but its most important feature was that it easily drew the eye away from her unfortunately colored hair.
    }She attached the Venice bonnet securely with two long jet pins and fiddled momentarily with the arrangement of velvet and lace. Looking back into the mirror, she smiled with pleasure. That image quickly faded as she purposely closed her lips to cover her less than perfect smile. Tulsa May checked her reflection again. Yes, that was better, she assured herself. If she could just remember to keep her lips closed to cover the gap in her teeth, her chin down to shorten her face, her hair would be decently covered and she would be passable.
    }Not that she really cared much for herself, she was quick to remember. She had fought that demon in childhood and had come through being pleased at what heaven had given her, rather than longing for those things that passed her by. But, poor Luther, she thought. He was undoubtedly accustomed to being with more attractive women and she knew that mattered to a man. At least it had mattered to Odie Foote.
    }"A woman is a symbol of a man's success," her mother had warned her. "It's all well and good to be sweet and kind and smart, but a man wants something pretty on his arm."
    }Tulsa May had managed to ignore her mother's philosophy and advice for a long time. But it began to seem as if Dr. Foote agreed with her.
    }"I understand," he had told her one night in the quiet privacy of the front parlor, "that it is proper for a woman to appear suitably drab when she is working for wages." He cleared his throat before he continued. "But you must allow yourself to shine youthfully when I call upon you."
    }Dr. Foote's idea of youthful shine included bows and furbelows and pale pastel colors. Her mother had dressed her in that fashion for more than a dozen years, but the pretty dresses and fancy ribbons that looked so appealing on other young women made Tulsa May look and feel ridiculous. Neither her mother nor Odie could ever quite understand that.
    }Well, she thought, they had had their way. With the doctor and her mother in collusion, Tulsa May had been forced into a betrothal gown of rose pink ruffles. She gave herself a disgusted expression in the mirror. Perhaps it was the sight of her in that dress that had made Odie run from the engagement party as if his coattails were on fire.
    }Downstairs she could hear the sounds of conversation and guessed rightly that Luther had arrived at last. He was such a dear, such a friend. This silly plan of his was sure not to work, but the fact that he devised it was a sweet and generous favor.
    }"You are just full of ambition," she'd told him on one long-ago summer day as he polished the Runabout in the drive in front of the carriage house at the Briggs Mansion. "With all the plans and ideas you have, you're sure to do important things in your life."
    }He smiled at her. "Do you know what my biggest ambition is?" he asked.
    }She shook her head.
    }"To see that my Tulsy is the happiest girl in Prattville."
    }She had giggled. "Aiming low, are you?" she asked. "You know there is not a happier soul in town than sunny, smiling Tulsa May."
    }His eyes had been warm as he nodded in agreement. "And it's my job as your 'almost brother' to see that you stay that way."
    }And he had