Sophronia considered this question. It had been troubling her of late. Felix was good looking, but he rather knew that too much. And he was nicely mysterious. But as a Pickleman he would interfere with her espionage operations, and that really couldn’t be countenanced in a beau. Perhaps I can train him out of it?

Before she could answer Dimity, a timid knock sounded at the door to the parlor. The two looked at each other. They were the only ones not in class; whoever was there must know this.

Sophronia climbed out of bed and pulled on a robe. She was less self-conscious about these things than Dimity. After her foray into dressing like a dandy, she’d given over most scruples concerning public appearances in impolite clothing. After all, her nightgown nicely covered her climbing outfit, even if it was intended for the bedchamber.

“Oh, Sophronia,” said Dimity, “they can wait while you dress.”

Since dressing, at the best of times, took a quarter of an hour, this was probably not wise. That knock had definitely sounded clandestine; besides, appearing at the door in said nightgown might unsettle the visitor, thus giving her an initial conversational advantage.

So Sophronia disregarded Dimity and padded through the parlor to open the hall door. A tall, shrouded figure pushed in past her without ceremony.

“What?”

“Shut the door, quickly now!”

Sophronia did so, and the individual pushed back the shroud to reveal…

“Soap!” He’d never visited before. It was terribly dangerous for a sootie to be up top. If he were caught, he’d be summarily dismissed without references. Not to mention the fact that Sophronia and Dimity would be ruined.

“What ho, miss? Figured I’d catch you before you left.”

Sophronia wasn’t sure how she felt about this. She had, after all, been avoiding him.

“Sophronia, who is it?” peeped Dimity from the safe confines of their darkened sleeping chamber.

Sophronia went over and stuck her head in. “No one all that important; give me a few minutes, please?”

Dimity’s white face peeked out from under the covers, which she’d pulled up to her chin in case someone untoward tried to see her. “Must you receive callers in such a state of disrepair?”

“I’ll be quick.”

“Who is it, then?” Dimity pressed.

“Just a friend.” Sophronia wanted to avoiding explaining Soap to Dimity. Dimity was bound to come over with a surfeit of disapproval.

Dimity sighed, but there was no way she was leaving her bed to meet an unknown entity.

Sophronia shut the door, took a deep breath to steady her nerves, and turned to face the sootie.

Soap was standing awkwardly in the middle of the parlor, the cowl pushed down to drape about his shoulders. It was made of ripped gunnysack.

“Do sit down?” said Sophronia politely, with an elegant gesture designed to disarm the intruder with politeness, as Lady Linette had once instructed.

“I won’t, miss, thank you kindly. I’ll only smudge up all your pretty little seatlings.”

Sophronia stayed where she was for a moment, on the far side of the room. Then decided she would risk proximity for greater privacy in speech, in case Dimity was listening at keyholes. So she went over and sat, looking up at him expectantly.

“Well?”

“I scared you off, miss, didn’t I? This last time. Should’ve known I was too blunt. Even you’ve got some finer feelings.”

Sophronia’s pride was stung. “You most certainly did not scare me! And I’ve plenty of finer feelings, thank you very much. I was ashamed of my behavior, shouldn’t have yelled.”

Soap grinned, wide and cheerful. “I’m glad you did. Shows you care.”

“Of course I do!”

“So you’re avoiding me because you came over all lily-livered, afraid I’ll chuck a little affection your way?”

Sophronia glared at him. “I’m not frightened of you, Soap. I simply don’t think of you that way, and I don’t want to.”

“I know.” The tall boy managed to look both hurt and shamefaced. “It’s just, miss, that I wish… I…”

He stammered, unsure for once, and Sophronia took it as an opportunity to leap hastily in. “And I wish you would please stop showing me so much affection.” If he said anything more, she’d have to say more, and then she was sure to lose his friendship forever. So she hurriedly switched the subject. “What are you doing outside of engineering?”

“Couldn’t let you go groundside smoldering like to choke with disapproval.”

“I am not smoldering!” she said, looking as if smoke might start to come out her ears, as it did Bumbersnoot’s when he was excited.

Soap smiled, but it was not his usual broad grin. “No, I can see that. You’re catching a train in the wee hours?”

“No, Mumsy is sending the cart. An undignified way to travel, but it’ll get us there. And Roger is an old chum.”

Soap’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Well, I’ll be off, then. Don’t go dancing more than three with that Felix blighter.”

Sophronia sniffed. “I’m not a complete idiot, to be trapped so easily. Nor, for that matter, is he. It’s most annoying of you to order me to do something I’m going to do anyway. Now it’ll look like I’m obeying you!”

Soap shifted the cowl back over his head and let himself out. “Wasn’t an order, miss, only a request.”