all this is still secret. You’re not to go gossiping to your little friends.”
I caught a glimpse of scorn in Sylvia’s eyes. “I’m sure my little friends and I have better things to talk about.”
“I’m sure,” I said.
Mom sighed. “You must want to go badly enough, if you’re willing to spend the summer away from your Kate.”
I cleared my throat. “She’s already been invited on the expedition.”
My mother’s eyes flashed. Even though I hadn’t been home much in the last five years, it was a look I remembered well enough.
“Is it her you’re doing this foolish thing for?” she demanded.
“It’s awfully romantic!” said Sylvia.
“I’m going for my own reasons,” I said firmly. “If Kate weren’t going and I had the chance, I’d still go. You mustn’t think she’s dragging me into it, Mom.”
My mother shook her head. “It’s bad enough you want to make the sky your life; but I don’t see why you want to go embarking on something so treacherous. I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you as well.”
She looked so bereft, I was tempted to say I wouldn’t go. But I didn’t. How could I? What sky sailor, given a chance like this, wouldn’t have grasped it with all his might?
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t want you to worry. And look, even if I’m chosen, the ship’s going to be safe. It’s built by Lunardi, and no one builds better ships.” I turned to the girls to avoid my mother’s hard stare. “There’s going to be lots of famous people aboard, you know.”
“Will Sarah Bernhardt be going?” asked Sylvia, referring to the actress.
“No,” I said. “I meant famous scientists.”
“Oh,” she said, and wrinkled her nose.
“Of course it’s your decision,” my mother said. She did have a way of making you feel guilty, with those big sad eyes of hers. I wondered if she was doing it on purpose. Kate had taught me about the things women could do to show their disapproval.
“If I get chosen,” I said gently, “I’ll need your consent. Mr. Lunardi won’t take me on without it.”
Mom hesitated a moment and then said firmly, “You’ll have my consent.”
I blew out a breath. “Thanks, Mom.”
“How long is the training?” Sylvia asked.
“Just two weeks.”
“Two weeks staying with us!” said Isabel.
“Well, no,” I said, hating to see her face fall. “I’m here for the weekend, but then I’ve got to stay at the training facility. I'm not allowed to tell you where it is. They won’t even let us off the compound, except Sundays. So I’ll come see you then.”
“When you’re not off with your sweetheart, you mean,” said Sylvia.
I gave her a stern look. “Kate and I are just good friends. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t use terms like ‘sweetheart.’”
“He’s madly in love with her,” Sylvia told Isabel.
“Is he?” Isabel asked.
“It’s so obvious.”
“Girls, show some consideration, please.” But my mother was looking at me, every bit as unconvinced and amused as my sisters.
“When will we meet her?” asked Isabel.
“Well—”
“Your Kate’s already taken care of that,” said my mother. “This arrived earlier today.”
From the sideboard, she handed me a thick cream card with a gold border. Script swirled elegantly across the front:
Mr. and Mrs. Charles de Vries request the pleasure of your company at their twelfth annual Summer Garden Fête.
Kate hadn’t mentioned anything to me about a garden party, but she’d obviously convinced her parents to put us on their invitation list.
“It’s this Sunday!” said Isabel.
“I can wear my new shoes!” said Sylvia. “They’re perfect for summer.”
“I don’t know what I’ll wear,” said Isabel with a little puff that would have done justice to a Parisian socialite.
“I’m not sure we should all go,” said Mom.
“What?” cried Sylvia.
“It’s very kind of the de Vrieses to invite us,” said my mother, “but we
I caught a glimpse of scorn in Sylvia’s eyes. “I’m sure my little friends and I have better things to talk about.”
“I’m sure,” I said.
Mom sighed. “You must want to go badly enough, if you’re willing to spend the summer away from your Kate.”
I cleared my throat. “She’s already been invited on the expedition.”
My mother’s eyes flashed. Even though I hadn’t been home much in the last five years, it was a look I remembered well enough.
“Is it her you’re doing this foolish thing for?” she demanded.
“It’s awfully romantic!” said Sylvia.
“I’m going for my own reasons,” I said firmly. “If Kate weren’t going and I had the chance, I’d still go. You mustn’t think she’s dragging me into it, Mom.”
My mother shook her head. “It’s bad enough you want to make the sky your life; but I don’t see why you want to go embarking on something so treacherous. I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you as well.”
She looked so bereft, I was tempted to say I wouldn’t go. But I didn’t. How could I? What sky sailor, given a chance like this, wouldn’t have grasped it with all his might?
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t want you to worry. And look, even if I’m chosen, the ship’s going to be safe. It’s built by Lunardi, and no one builds better ships.” I turned to the girls to avoid my mother’s hard stare. “There’s going to be lots of famous people aboard, you know.”
“Will Sarah Bernhardt be going?” asked Sylvia, referring to the actress.
“No,” I said. “I meant famous scientists.”
“Oh,” she said, and wrinkled her nose.
“Of course it’s your decision,” my mother said. She did have a way of making you feel guilty, with those big sad eyes of hers. I wondered if she was doing it on purpose. Kate had taught me about the things women could do to show their disapproval.
“If I get chosen,” I said gently, “I’ll need your consent. Mr. Lunardi won’t take me on without it.”
Mom hesitated a moment and then said firmly, “You’ll have my consent.”
I blew out a breath. “Thanks, Mom.”
“How long is the training?” Sylvia asked.
“Just two weeks.”
“Two weeks staying with us!” said Isabel.
“Well, no,” I said, hating to see her face fall. “I’m here for the weekend, but then I’ve got to stay at the training facility. I'm not allowed to tell you where it is. They won’t even let us off the compound, except Sundays. So I’ll come see you then.”
“When you’re not off with your sweetheart, you mean,” said Sylvia.
I gave her a stern look. “Kate and I are just good friends. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t use terms like ‘sweetheart.’”
“He’s madly in love with her,” Sylvia told Isabel.
“Is he?” Isabel asked.
“It’s so obvious.”
“Girls, show some consideration, please.” But my mother was looking at me, every bit as unconvinced and amused as my sisters.
“When will we meet her?” asked Isabel.
“Well—”
“Your Kate’s already taken care of that,” said my mother. “This arrived earlier today.”
From the sideboard, she handed me a thick cream card with a gold border. Script swirled elegantly across the front:
Mr. and Mrs. Charles de Vries request the pleasure of your company at their twelfth annual Summer Garden Fête.
Kate hadn’t mentioned anything to me about a garden party, but she’d obviously convinced her parents to put us on their invitation list.
“It’s this Sunday!” said Isabel.
“I can wear my new shoes!” said Sylvia. “They’re perfect for summer.”
“I don’t know what I’ll wear,” said Isabel with a little puff that would have done justice to a Parisian socialite.
“I’m not sure we should all go,” said Mom.
“What?” cried Sylvia.
“It’s very kind of the de Vrieses to invite us,” said my mother, “but we
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