I had barely been seventeen when I first met Sylvia. She wasn't from around, but came from the Capital, an outsider some may say. But for me she wasn't.

That summer she'd stayed with the Carlton's, our neighbours of a few miles away, who own a dairy farm and a couple of corn fields. To them, Sylvia was their niece, daughter to Mr. Carlton's sister. None of my parents knew he had a sister! It came a surprise when he'd admitted he and the rest of his family had a fall out when he was in his teens ("like you are now, Danny, i guess", he had said as if it had anything to do with the point) and up until this year he had no idea either, that he had a niece.

"Sis' mine rang 'couple of days back, tellin' me that she's sorry and want to patch it up", he'd said over our usual Friday dinner, this night held at their home. "Asked if I could let her daughter stay with me and Jo for a week or two next month. School's out for summer in the city", he'd added as if it surprised him; "they don't have to help on no farm! Why would they get the summers off?"

Mum had been on the edge of her seat of excitement. "Oh a girl? Danny, wouldn't that be fun?" She'd smiled at me, practically beaming. "Since the Morgan's moved last year you haven't really met many friends outside of school." She'd turned to Mr. Carlton again. "What age is she?"

"Seventeen, she turns eighteen at the end of December, if memory serves."

"Oh, isn't that wonderful! A girl your age, Danielle", my mum had exclaimed. "You need to bring her here to our next dinner, Gordon! When will she be arriving?"

Gordon had smiled. "She will be coming with the bus on Thursday next week, so she will be just about settled when Friday dinner comes."

"Oh, how wonderful!"

And so on went the night. Mum'd asked question after question, and poor Gordon Carlton had answered politely, until time came for us to head home before it got too late.

But even as we'd gotten home, my mum wouldn't keep quiet about this "Sylvia".

"Isn't this exciting, Danny!" she'd said as I was heading up the stairs. "Aren't you looking forward to it?"

I'd smiled at her. "Yes, mum, it will be fun meeting her. Good night, I love you."

"Love you too, sleep well!" she'd called up after me as I locked myself into my room.

I remember laying down on the bed, but not what I thought, what I really did think about this new girl coming to the town, none the less to our farm. It was such a foreign thing; even when I did have the Morgan's daughter, Lilly, as a friend, I had never invited her into our house. But my exact opinion on this new girl, before I'd even met her -- no, I cannot remember. I only remember falling asleep, a dreamless, deep sleep; I remember the next week going by in a grey blur; I remember how the next Friday, I for the first time ever saw real beauty.

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