“I suspect she might also have confederates who pose as clients and sit in the waiting area to ask questions and get people talking,” Elizabeth said.

“Do you think the Lindhursts were confederates?” his mother asked in dismay.

“Maybe, but Mrs. Vanderslice has been seeing Madame Ophelia for a while now, and I suspect Mrs. Vanderslice has already told her everything she knows about me and all there is to know about David.”

“Did you hear from David?” Gideon asked with a pang. How odd to be speaking of his friend as if he could still communicate with them.

“The monk claimed to be speaking for him, yes,” his mother said.

Gideon frowned in confusion. “The monk?”

“Her spirit guide is a German monk named Peter,” Elizabeth said.

“I see,” Gideon said, not seeing at all. “And what did David have to say through him?”

“That David still hasn’t forgiven me for breaking our engagement,” Elizabeth said.

“But David was the one who broke it,” Gideon said.

“Yes, he was,” his mother chimed in, “which is how we knew this Peter couldn’t really be talking to David.”

“Well,” Elizabeth allowed, “that was one of the reasons, at least. But Mrs. Vanderslice thought I had broken it, so we know that’s who told Madame Ophelia all about it.”

Gideon nodded, beginning to understand. “And did you get a message from the spirits, Mother?”

“Sadly, no,” she said, plainly disappointed.

“I’m sure that’s only because Madame Ophelia didn’t know anything about her, though,” Elizabeth said.

“And my question was too vague,” his mother added. “Next time, I’ll do better.”

“Next time?” Gideon echoed in alarm.

“Oh yes,” his mother said. “Tell him what you did, Elizabeth.”

Gideon managed not to groan. “What did you do?”

“She had a visit from the spirits, too,” his mother told him with great delight before Elizabeth could even open her mouth.

“I just happened to have a racing tip that I picked up when I went to see the Old Man yesterday,” Elizabeth added, “so I passed it along to a gentleman there as if it had come from the spirits.”

“Because no one would ever suspect you of knowing anything about horse racing,” Gideon guessed.

“That was my hope.”

“And what did you mean to accomplish with this bit of playacting?”

“I’m not sure, but I couldn’t help thinking that if I could convince Madame Ophelia I really can tell the future, I might be able to . . . Well, I’m not sure exactly what just yet, but I might be able to do something to save people like Mrs. Vanderslice from being impoverished by this woman.”

Gideon couldn’t help flinching, but not for the reason Elizabeth obviously thought.

“Oh, darling, I know you can’t possibly approve, but if there’s any way to help Anna’s poor mother—”