Grandmothers

Like a multi-colored butterfly, little Solange Prudhomme darted from one end of the deck to another. "Oh isn't it just wonderful?" she squealed, eyes misting over at the rolling green beauty of the Irish coast. "I'm so glad you took us on this cruise, Papa, truly it's worth the sea-sickness!" Old Prudhomme smiled indulgently at his daughter, while his partner, Pierre Robillard, chuckled and patted the little girl's dark curls.

At the wharf, a little Irish peasant woman hold her three small sons close. Dublin was new to her and her boys - they were rowdy lads, aye, and merited watching. "There, tisn't it a lovely piece?" Katie Scarlett O'Hara asked her youngest, Gerald, pointing at the ship to distract him.

Gerald's eyes were riveted on the fairylike child in her fluttering gown of pink-and-white on the deck. "She be a princess, Mother?"

Katie Scarlett considered Solange from afar. "T'will be likely," she mused, "T'will be likely."