I simply couldn’t imagine Lady Middlesex calling anyone dear heart, and I knew her husband was already in Baghdad, so I was brimming with curiosity as I slid my door open. Coming up the corridor, clutching a bulky and battered suitcase, was a middle-aged and decidedly frumpy woman. She was wearing what was clearly a home-knitted beret and scarf over a shapeless overcoat and she looked hot and flustered.

“Oh, I’ve had the most awful time, Lady M. Most awful. There were two terrible men sitting across from me on the ship. I swear they were international criminals—so swarthy looking and they kept muttering to each other. Thank God it was not a night crossing or I’d have been murdered in my bunk.”

“I hardly think so, dear heart,” Lady Middlesex said. “You haven’t anything worth stealing and they were not likely to be interested in your body.”

“Oh, Lady M, really!” And the woman blushed.

“Well, you’re here now and all is well,” Lady Middlesex said. “Ah, Lady Georgiana, let me introduce you. This is my companion, Miss Deer-Harte.”

“I am honored to meet you, Lady Georgiana.” She bobbed an awkward curtsy, as she was still clutching the large suitcase. “I’m sure we’ll have some jolly chats on the way across Europe. Let us just pray that there are no snowstorms this time and that none of those dreadful Balkan countries decides to make war with its neighbor.”

“Always such gloom and doom, Deer-Harte,” Lady Middlesex said. “Buck up. Best foot forward and all that. Your cabin is just down there. Why you had to struggle with that suitcase yourself instead of employing a porter is beyond me.”

“But you know how hopeless I am with foreign money, Lady M. I’m always terrified of giving them a pound when I mean a shilling. And they always look so sinister with those black mustaches, I’m frightened they’ll take off with my bags and I’ll never see them again.”

“I’ve told you before, nobody would want your bags,” Lady Middlesex said. “Now, for heaven’s sake go and get settled and then we’ll find the dining car and see if they can produce a drinkable cup of tea.”

As she finished speaking she looked down the corridor and opened her mouth in horror. “What in heaven’s name?”

Queenie was rushing toward us, blindly pushing past people. She reached me and clutched at my sleeve like a drowning person. “Oh, me lady,” she gasped, “can’t I come in with you? I can’t stay down there. It’s all foreign people. Speaking foreign and acting foreign. I’m scared, me lady.”

“You’ll be fine, Queenie,” I said. “You have Chantal, who has traveled on these trains many times and speaks the language too. Ask her if you need anything.”