“Really, Mother. You can’t want tea at this hour. I promised Porky that we’d meet him at the Louvre.” And Justin Hartley and his family were coming toward me, only a few steps away. I couldn’t think what to do. If I ran on ahead I would surely be noticed. If I went into the tea shop their mother might well prevail and follow me inside.

“Madame wishes a table?” A chubby little man with an impressive mustache appeared at my shoulder and literally escorted me inside. Out of the corner of my eye I watched Justin and his family go past. So he had gotten his way again. For once I was grateful. I took the chair the patron had pulled up for me and sat. This was clearly going to be an extravagance, especially for one who has no idea how long her money has to last, but I really couldn’t back out without looking an awful fool, and risk another encounter with the Hartleys. I ordered a pot of tea and the smallest pastry I could find. The café owner joked, “Ah, madame wishes to preserve her excellent figure,” and I didn’t contradict him. When he brought the tea I asked, “I understand that two friends of mine, American ladies, like to frequent this tea salon. I had hoped to run into them here. One of them wears her hair cut short like this. Dark hair. Very striking. You’d remember her.”

He frowned. “No, madame. You must have confused us with another establishment. I do not recall these ladies coming in here.”

“Oh, dear. I am sorry. I wonder which other tearoom they might have meant?”

“Perhaps you are thinking of Ladurée on the Rue Royale,” he said. “Or maybe Maison Cador on the other bank of the river in Saint Germain. They are both fine places, in their way.” He shrugged as if it was almost an insult to compare them to this queen of establishments.

I sat, enjoying every sip of the tea. Being raised in Ireland tea was as familiar to me as mother’s milk and I still hadn’t learned to fully appreciate the coffee that Daniel and Sid and Gus preferred. The little pastry melted in my mouth. Quite heavenly, as Ellie had said. But when I received the bill I realized that I must not be trapped into taking tea at the other establishments. I thanked the proprietor and made my way first to Ladurée and then across the Seine to the Left Bank where I found the Maison Cador. Neither of these teahouses remembered seeing Sid and Gus. I stood for a long while outside each of them, looking around for any kind of clue. The trouble was that I didn’t know what I was looking for.