Sophronia was left in possession of the field but also feeling as though she had lost something. I must get better at extracting information. She considered. Perhaps he requires feminine sympathy?
Mademoiselle Geraldine, meanwhile, was urging Professor Shrimpdittle to have his fortune told. The good professor looked as if he would rather not, but the headmistress’s assets were clearly irresistible. He took the seat.
The fortune-teller grabbed his hand and said, “You have troubles at school? Your headmaster, he does not value your contribution? This trip, it is to get you away, to keep you from becoming important.”
Professor Shrimpdittle was agitated. “How do you know?”
“The spirits do not lie.”
“There are no spirits, not that science has proven. Ghosts, of course, but not spirits.”
“And yet, you fear I speak truth.”
Professor Shrimpdittle, attuned to the interest of his own students, fell silent. But the seed of suspicion had been planted.
Sophronia palmed three shillings, ready to complete her end of the bargain.
Madame Spetuna was about to say more when a knock on the door interrupted her.
“Who could that possibly be?” wondered Mademoiselle Geraldine. “Everyone knows I am in an important session.”
As if this tea were a meeting of Parliament.
“Come in,” yelled the headmistress.
Vieve poked her head in. “Sorry to disturb, Mademoiselle Geraldine, but I heard… oh, yes! Bully! A fortune-teller! May I have mine done, please?”
“Oh, I don’t think we have the time—”
Professor Shrimpdittle delicately interrupted the headmistress by rising to his feet. “By all means, let the child take my place.”
“If you don’t mind, Professor?”
Vieve trotted over and sat, little legs dangling.
The fortune-teller looked the scamp over and then looked at her palms briefly. “You are too young, as yet, to be fully formed. I can tell you only one thing. You are doomed to be lucky in matters of the head and unlucky in matters of the heart.”
Vieve grinned. “That’s good enough for me. I’d rather the first over the second.”
The fortune-teller shook her head sadly. “Which only proves how very young you are. And now, I am fatigued. Mademoiselle Geraldine, if I might beg to rest before the next session?”
“Of course, my boudoir is just there. Please, avail yourself of the amenities.”
Madame Spetuna left the room with barely a nod at her former customers. She brushed past Sophronia and scooped up the three coins, which Sophronia held casually behind her seat back. It was as if Madame Spetuna had been conducting covert operations her whole life. Very professional.
Sophronia turned to watch the fortune-teller retreat. The lady was quite short, and she moved slowly. I must remember that kind of garb as a good disguise. I should invest in colored scarves. My list of necessities gets ever longer. Perhaps I should also take the time to learn the basics of fortune-telling to go alongside. It seemed a matter of making statements vague enough to be possibly true or predictions far enough in the future to be irrelevant.
The girls discussed their precognitive tea later that evening. After much analysis of their own fortunes, and everyone else’s, Sophronia brought the subject around to the fortune-teller herself.
“Of course, she can’t possibly be a real fortune-teller.”
“Why ever not?” wondered Agatha, who wanted to believe in what she had been told. Whatever that had been. She was keeping her own council on the matter, despite Sophronia’s needling.
“Don’t you think she’s one of ours?” Sophronia was casual in her assertions. “Returned to report in person on some dangerous matter?”
“Oh.” Dimity was impressed. “You think she is an agent in disguise?”
Sophronia nodded.