Chapter Two, part two

“What do you suppose a medium does?” Violet asked Sadie as they strolled along the cliff walk shortly after luncheon. To their left, the sea hurtled itself onto the shore, churning and re-churning its frigid depths. How long did it take a wave to travel across the ocean? All the way from Ireland? She looked away from the water, toward the diamond-white, Corinthian colonnade of Marble House, past which they were walking.

“I’ve no idea,” said Sadie, “but if attending a séance or two is our payment for staying here, I say it’s well worth it.” She also looked up at Marble House. “Do you know, I think it is bigger than the New York Library. Cora Worth told me who lives in which house this morning, but I only remember a few. This one’s Alva’s. Can you believe how posh these people are? I can’t tell if the other girls are staring at my clothes because they’re shabby or because they’re chic.” She looked down at her burgundy skirt. “Some of ours did come from Paris, so I’m hoping for chic. I know Mother always told us it was like this here, but—” She trailed off, not needing to finish the sentence.

“I know. It’s far more than I’d ever pictured, too.”

Sadie slipped her arm through Violet’s, and they walked for some time like that.

“We should write to Gran,” Violet said.

Sadie tipped her head toward her sister. “Will you do it for both of us?”

“I suppose. What would you like me to tell her from you?”

“Oh, that I fell in with the most marvelous boy last night. Floyd MacAlister. Have you met him?”

Violet’s shoulders tensed. Sometimes the world seemed to conspire in luring Sadie away from school. “Yes,” she said cautiously. “He was at breakfast this morning.”
“So dreamy! We danced three times and would have danced a fourth if the band hadn’t packed up. He said his house in Providence has a ballroom that’s nearly as big as the grand salon. Imagine the parties they must throw!”

Violet pressed her lips together, plotting a course over uneven waters. Apparently, it was going to take some art to keep Sadie’s attention on completing school. “I’m sure he’s very nice,” she said slowly. “And if he danced three times with you, he must have good taste.” That earned her one of Sadie’s brightest smiles. Violet waited a beat. “Perhaps he’d come visit you when you’re back at Emma Willard next year. He could take you to the Spring Fling.”

Was it her imagination, or did Sadie move an inch away from her?

“Maybe. Or maybe not. I’m not sure I’ll be ready to go back in the fall.”

“Oh, no?” Violet’s voice was artificially light. “I thought it was what you were planning on.” She thought of the application, sitting upstairs in her composition book. She’d been hoping they could complete it together.

“I know. Let’s talk about it later, shall we? Let me tell you what Floyd said the winter dance is like at Harvard.”

Violet listened, but only partly. Most of her mind was on the upcoming séance, which she was beginning to dread. Why would anyone want to speak with the dead? She shivered, though the sun was warm. Her dead could remain silent, thank you very much. She had nothing to say to them.