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shrugged. “And Tippy adores him. He is really good with her.”
    An’gel and Dickce looked at each other, puzzled. Who was Tippy?
    An’gel voiced the question and was rather taken aback to see Mireille’s face flush a deep red.
    “Tippy is Sondra’s daughter.” Mireille turned her head away. “Her illegitimate daughter.”

CHAPTER 3
    E ven seated beside her cousin, An’gel barely heard Mireille’s last three words. Evidently Mireille was deeply embarrassed to admit that her great-grandchild was born out of wedlock. An’gel was rather taken aback by the news herself, but Mireille’s shame over her great-grandchild’s illegitimacy probably explained why there had been no birth announcement.
    “How old is Tippy?” Dickce asked brightly.
    “Three,” Jacqueline said. “I’m sorry, Tante An’gel, Tante Dickce. I know we should have told you before now, but, well . . .” Her voice trailed off as she gestured toward her mother.
    An’gel nodded. She understood Mireille’s outraged sensibilities—if indeed she felt that strongly about it—but what was done was done. An’gel firmly believed that the sins of the father—or in this case, the mother—should not bevisited upon the child. She was about to express these thoughts, but Dickce spoke first.
    “I know this is indelicate of me to ask,” she said with a brief smile. “But after all, we are family. I suppose Lance is the father, since he and Sondra have been sweethearts for several years?”
    Jacqueline shook her head. “No, Lance is not Tippy’s father.” She paused for a deep breath. “In fact, we don’t know who her father is. Sondra refuses to say.”
    “The groom isn’t bothered by this?” An’gel asked, trying to mask her astonishment with a bland tone. “Especially since it must have happened during the time he and Sondra were dating.”
    “Evidently not,” Mireille said a trifle snappishly. “At the time Sondra told us all she was going to have a child, he uttered not one word of complaint or recrimination. At least not in my hearing.” She glanced at her daughter.
    Jacqueline nodded. “It’s just as Maman says. Lance doesn’t seem at all bothered by the situation. Of course, he may not actually understand just how children are conceived.” She giggled.
    “It is not in the least amusing.” Mireille dropped her teacup on the silver tray with a loud clatter.
    An’gel thought for a moment the delicate porcelain might have broken, but the cup seemed intact. Not so her cousin, however. One glance told her Mireille’s face was flushed again—whether with anger or embarrassment, or a combination of both, she wasn’t sure.
    Mireille stood. “I’m sorry, but you must excuse me. I have to talk with Estelle. I will see you again at dinnertime.” She walked out of the room, her shoulders slumped.
    Jacqueline waited until her mother was clear of the doorway before she spoke. “I’m so sorry about all this. I would have told you before now, but Maman is so distressed over the whole situation. She adores Tippy, of course. She’s a sweet child, and no one could help but love her, but Maman has never forgiven Sondra for causing such a scandal.”
    Dickce spoke in a mild tone. “Surely, my dear, these days having a child out of wedlock isn’t so scandalous. It happens in many families.”
    Jacqueline’s response was tart. “Not in the Champlain family, it doesn’t.” She threw up her hands. “You both know what Maman is like. You’ve known her longer than I have, for goodness’ sake. All my life she’s been the epitome of rectitude—and a pillar of the community. But since Tippy was born, she hardly sets foot out of the house or off the grounds, except to go to mass on Sundays. She’s convinced that she’s the laughingstock of St. Ignatiusville.”
    “There are probably those in town who do find the situation amusing because of the family’s long history in the area,” An’gel said. “There are always people who