Tilly seemed to grow taller, even though they were still sitting down. “No, they don’t,” she said, her eyes twinkling as if they shared a secret.

“Tilly,” her mother snapped. “Leave Mrs. Bates alone.”

Elizabeth and Tilly exchanged one more glance of understanding before Tilly obeyed her mother and followed her out. Then only she and Madame Ophelia remained.

“Do you still doubt your powers?” Madame asked.

“I suppose we’ll have to wait until next Tuesday to find out, won’t we?”

“I suppose we will. But if you are right—”

“If I am right, then we’ll talk. Until then, I just want to forget all about this.” Elizabeth rose from her chair and hurried out to the waiting room. Poor Gideon was the center of attention as everyone tried to explain to him what had happened and how she had given Miss Miles the answer she had been seeking. Miss Miles was the most enthusiastic of all of them, babbling about her good fortune and how important it was to find her uncle’s will because otherwise his fortune would be inherited by his no-good son, who would squander it while she intended to use it for good works.

When Gideon saw Elizabeth, he rudely turned his back on the others and pushed his way to her side. “Are you all right?”

“I’m very tired,” she admitted. “Would you take me home?”

“Of course.” He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and escorted her past her admiring fans out to the quiet of the sidewalk.

“Well?” he whispered when they were far enough away from the door not to be overheard.

“I think it went fine.”

—

Jake had been waiting in the shadows for a while when he finally saw the girl come out the front door of the storefront and begin to lock it. He started down the deserted sidewalk at a reasonable pace, and then speeded up as if just catching sight of her, hurrying to reach her before she walked away.

“Wait!” he called.

She looked up startled as he skidded to a halt beside her.

“Am I too late? Are you closed?”

She smiled politely as she pulled the key from the lock. “I’m afraid we are. Did you want to schedule a sitting?”

“I . . . Yes, I, uh, I wanted to find out more about it, but I wasn’t sure. . . . So I was thinking and trying to decide, but I guess I thought too long and missed my chance.”

“We’ll be here tomorrow morning, and you can come back then,” the girl said helpfully.

“I can’t come in the daytime. I have to work.”

“I see. Well, you could—”

“Are you her? Are you the Madame?” he asked, and then clapped his hand over his mouth in embarrassment. “That didn’t sound right, did it? I meant, are you this Madame O . . . How do you say that name?”