Patty’s demeanor suddenly changed, and she became morose.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.  I mean, well, I mean do not feel I should be feeling good about this.  I am a boy, not a girl.”

“It’s only temporary, Patty.  We’ve had to do this before, and you didn’t feel this way.”

“I am beginning to…like…the dress.”

“It IS pretty.  That’s all right.”

“But…you see…I like the other things, too – except the corset!” she quickly added, rubbing here waist.

“Oh.  What things?”

“I like…the way…the petticoats feel on my legs – and the pantaloons.”

“That’s all right – that’s understandable.  We like that too.”

“But…I’m a boy.”

“Well, yes…but you are dressed as a girl right now.  So you can feel that way.  You have to take the bad – the corset – so why not take some pleasure in the good, as you see it – the petticoats?   We manage.”

“Ar-are you going to tell Gram how I feel?”

“No, sweetheart,” said Francine.  If we tell her about how you like petticoats, then she’ll just find another punishment and, if we tell her about how you detest your stays, well, she’ll make it worse somehow.”

“Couldn’t be worse than this – geez!”

“Trust me, it could be worse – smaller dresses have smaller waists. Smaller waists…”  The girls looked each other.

“You mean tighter?”

“Possibly.  But more likely, she would punish you with more and harsher whippings.”

Patty dropped her head.

“So!” said Martha, “Let’s cheer up and go to lunch.  Come – Let me help you with your shoes.”

“Yes, let us put on your shoes, and we can go down to lunch,” agreed Francine.