Lord Henry proved to be in earnest about dinner being informal. He and the children wore the same clothing they’d worn earlier. Olive greeted me as though she hadn’t seen me for days, and Rollo stood politely until I was seated. Flora wore a distracted look similar to her uncle’s, though I doubted she was thinking about insects. As soon as the soup had been served, Rollo blurted, “Uncle Henry, did you hear about the steam engine on Fifth Avenue today? I saw it out the window.”

I nearly dropped my spoon in my soup. Could he have seen me alighting from the bus? No, it had let me off several blocks away.

“Really?” Lord Henry asked.

“Yes! It was like a big horse with wheels,” Rollo excitedly described it with his hands waving, “but all in metal, and it chugged great puffs of smoke. Do you think steam power might replace magic?”

“I don’t know,” his uncle said. “I doubt we magisters would use steam for power, but it might replace horses.”

“This was better than horses,” Rollo enthused. “And it had a loud whistle.”

“Our carriage has a bell,” Olive said. “That’s better than a whistle. It goes ding, ding, ding.”

“The whistle’s louder,” her brother argued.

“Louder isn’t better.”

“Yes, it is!”

“It’s definitely not better at the dinner table,” Lord Henry put in with a grin as he flicked his nephew on the ear. If my interview earlier had felt like a child’s game, now I felt like I was sitting at a nursery table while the real adults were elsewhere.

“I wonder if they’ll come back again,” Rollo said. “I want to ride that bus. It must be exciting.” I bit the inside of my lip to keep myself from smiling at the memory. It had been exciting.

“The Rebel Mechanics are treasonous,” Lord Henry said mildly, but with an air of wistfulness, as though he was saying what a guardian should, even though he was just as interested as Rollo. “They’re not the sort you should be associating with.”

“I heard they’re also experimenting with electricity,” Rollo said, undaunted, as the footmen cleared the soup course and brought out the roast.

“Do you think it will be too cool tomorrow for my pink chiffon?” Flora asked, apparently not having heard a word of the conversation. “Or I could wear the lavender. I should call on the Merriweathers, and Jocelyn Merriweather looks awful in lavender, even though it’s her favorite color. I look so much better in it than she does, so if we’re both wearing lavender, it will be as though I’ve insulted her without saying a word.” She smiled to herself. “Yes, I will definitely wear the lavender.”

Lord Henry turned to her in dismay. “This is how you talk about your friends? I’d hate to be your enemy.”