They ran through the lobby, as Aunt Evie was walking so quickly it was hard to keep up. Tess practically bumped into an elegant Englishman wearing a bowler hat and a well-fitting pinstripe suit who was accompanied by a small white terrier on a leash who Tess also almost tripped over.

“Sorry,” said Tess, first to the dog and then to the gentleman.

“No harm done, was there, Princess?” he said to the dog, who seemed almost to nod at him. “No harm done at all,” the gentleman replied.

The terrier nodded happily, but somewhat attitudinally, if a dog can have attitude, and waved her tail, not quite a wag, just a simple wave. Tess noticed there was a pink satin bow tied festively into a tiny bunch of hair on top of the terrier’s head, like a ponytail that stuck straight up.

The dog’s eyes were fixed on Tess and were remarkably intelligent and dark brown, almost the color of hazelnuts. For a moment, the dog, whose name really was “Princess,” sidled up to Tess and brushed her body against Tess’s right leg.

“No harm done, at all, Missy,” the gentleman insisted. “I think she likes you.” Tess noticed that the gentleman called her “Missy” which reminded her of what someone else had called her last summer, but sometimes people did that in England. Called people, “Missy,” almost as if it was a term of endearment or respect.

Tess leaned down and patted the top of Princess’s head, being careful not to disturb the bow, smiled politely at the gentleman, and ran off to try to catch Max and Aunt Evie, who were halfway out the front door of the hotel. She joined them out on the sidewalk where the wind was blowing umbrellas upside down and a light snow was falling steadily.

The doorman was in the street blowing his whistle, but no one was stopping, and it looked as if there were two couples and one family of five ahead of them. The wind was practically wailing, and the snow was falling rapidly, almost at an angle, but the snowflakes were so tiny, they were as soft as cotton powder puffs floating in the air. Tess thought it was oddly refreshing, and she imagined sparkles when the snowflakes landed daintily on her cheeks. She looked over at Aunt Evie and her cheeks were sparkly, too.

Aunt Evie was tapping her foot impatiently. Aunt Evie didn’t like it when the trains didn’t run smoothly.