“There you are,” said Gertrude Williams and, turning in a rustle of chiffon and taffeta, towed them outside to the veranda. Motioning with her head, she bid them sit in the wicker chairs, plucked from her skirt pocket a yellow envelope bearing Western Union’s stamp, and handed it to Nathaniel.

He read the telegram and passed it to Eliot and Drew.

“And what does she have to say?”—Gertrude, cocking her head slightly and leaning forward, as if putting her ear to a door.

“One doesn’t read another’s telegrams, does one?”

Nathaniel couldn’t help himself, but he sought to soften the cheekiness of the remark with a broad smile. His mother always said he had a winning smile, a smile to melt man’s or woman’s heart, but it did not have that effect on Mrs. Williams.

“I didn’t ask to read it, did I, Nathaniel?” she said coldly. “I asked what was her news. If you don’t wish to tell me, the polite way to do that is to simply say that it’s private. And you would do well to remember that I am forty-four and you sixteen.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry, ma’am. She told us she loves us and that we should stay put, and to tell you she’s grateful to you for looking after us.”

“And nothing about your father?”

He shook his head.

“Perhaps whatever’s going on is too complicated to explain in a wire.” She fingered her broach. “Now, listen to me, boys. Constance’s and Johanna’s friends will be leaving in a couple of days. Until then, you will of course have to stay on your boat, but afterward, you and your mother will be most welcome to stay with us. I am going to ask Liza to come up as soon as she feels fit. I have plenty of room, and the air here will be ever so much better for her. You can stay for the rest of the summer, if you wish, though I hope to see this confusion with your father straightened out before then, and the five of you back together again.”

They thanked her, and she acknowledged their thanks with that quick self-satisfied nod of hers, and then pulled a five-dollar bill from her pocket and gave it to Nathaniel. She was having special guests for dinner that night—the president of Harvard and his wife and their houseguest, a distinguished professor from the University of Chicago—and she wanted the boys to pick up twenty lobsters to save her cook the time and trouble.

Nathaniel nodded and asked if he’d heard right: twenty?