“I’ll have the coachman retrieve it. Now, I’ll leave you to get settled. We serve dinner at seven. I know that’s early, but Lord Henry likes to include Olive, and she has an early bedtime. There’s no need to dress. Lord Henry doesn’t stand on ceremony.” There was a distinct note of disapproval in her voice, and I wondered why she remained in his employ if she didn’t like the way he did things.

When she was gone, I sank into the chair by the desk and allowed myself a long, deep sigh. I’d barely had time to remove my hat when Olive rushed into my room and flounced onto my bed. “I’m so glad you’re staying,” she said. “I didn’t like the last governess, but I like you.”

“You barely know me,” I said, trying to hide my amusement.

“But I know these things.” She dropped her voice to a dramatic whisper. “I have magical powers.” She bounced off the bed. “Would you like to see the house? I could show you.”

I was exhausted, but I didn’t feel it was an invitation I could refuse. “I would like that very much.”

She took my hand and dragged me into the hall. “The schoolroom is here,” she said, taking me across to a room overlooking the street. It was well equipped with books, a globe, some scientific apparatus, a desk, an easel, and an upright piano. “Uncle bought most of these things. He said our schoolroom before was woefully inadequate.” She sounded like she must be mimicking her uncle without necessarily understanding the meaning.

Then she pulled me back across the hall to another bedroom, decorated in pink and white. “This is my room. We’re neighbors. If I have nightmares, you will hear me.”

“Do you often have nightmares?”

“Only sometimes. I dream about the airship crash that killed Papa. Uncle says it’s only my imagination, since I wasn’t there and don’t know what it looked like for real, and my imagination probably makes it look even worse.” She sounded out the word “imagination” slowly, making sure she got it right. “If I cry out, you will come to me, won’t you?” she pleaded.

“I will,” I assured her. “I sometimes have nightmares myself.”

She pressed my hand and said earnestly, “If you cry out, I’ll come to you.”

She pointed out Rollo’s and Flora’s rooms, then led me downstairs to the library, which was something out of my wildest book-loving dreams. “There aren’t many books in here I can read yet,” Olive said. “My books are all in the schoolroom, but Uncle says that someday this will be my favorite room in the whole house.” I got the impression that whatever Uncle said was accepted as gospel by Olive.