When no police officer appeared after several minutes, I considered myself safe. I checked the watch pinned to my bodice. It was half past three, and Mrs. Talbot had instructed me to arrive before four. I returned my book to my bag, straightened my hat and resecured it with my hatpin, then rose and made my way to the nearby park exit.

The homes I faced were far grander than the ones I’d visited earlier and seemed much newer. Some were still under construction. The rebels had let me off a couple of blocks beyond my destination, which meant that my mad dash through the park had brought me almost exactly to the address I sought. When I saw the house, I double-checked the address with Mrs. Talbot’s letter because it was no mere house. It was a palace.

It was larger than the others on the block, built of white marble, and it looked like an Italian Renaissance villa. I imagined an army of servants, including wigged and liveried footmen. I did not imagine myself in such a setting. I wasn’t at all worldly. I hadn’t taken a Grand Tour of Europe. I’d barely seen the sights of New Haven. How could I possibly hope to teach children who were likely far more polished than I was?

But, I reminded myself, Mrs. Talbot would have known that from my letter of application. I had been entirely honest about my experience and qualifications, if not about my age, and she had still requested an interview. If I didn’t get this job, I’d have to find a rooming house and start all over again answering advertisements. That thought motivated me to cross the street, scale the majestic front steps, and reach for the bellpull.

Before my fingers closed around the cord, the door opened. “You must be Miss Newton,” a tall, broad-shouldered butler said in a deep, rumbling voice. “Mrs. Talbot is expecting you. Please come in.” The home might have been imposing, but this was the most welcoming greeting I’d had all day, aside from the band of rebels.

The entry hall took my breath away. The ceiling soared far above me, with windows of stained glass that cast multicolored light onto the black-and-white chessboard marble floor. A sweeping staircase led to the upper floors, and statuary in niches lined the entry hall. This foyer alone was nearly as large as my old home, a fairly large one by New Haven standards. I couldn’t hold back a small sigh of longing. How wonderful to live in such a place. Even as a governess, I’d feel like a princess whenever I came down that staircase.