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the baseboard.
    No particular precautions were necessary as we approached our vantage point, since Eustacia was shouting loud enough to frizzle one’s fur: “I will be a failure at the ball!”
    Rats have sharp ears, as you may be aware, so it was quite painful to listen.
    She screamed again: “And furthermore, Mamma, I simply cannot abide this dress!”
    Lady Apricot shied away from the noise, but Swiss and I pressed our faces to the spy-slit.
    Wilhemina was seated upon an upholstered settee near the dressing table. And there was Eustacia standing in front of her, decked out in a fine gown, the exact hue of ripe zucchini at its greenest. Though the color was impressive, the dress did not suit her; it brought an unhealthy look to her skin, and the tiers of ruffles made her appear a bit like a cake would if its frosting slid down to settle around its base. However, I do not claim to be a judge of female garments.
    A ladies’ maid was crouched at her feet, putting pins into the hem of the skirt.
    Wilhemina’s voice was cold when she answered. “Be silent, Daughter. How many times must I reassure you? The dress is magnificent. Surely you will attract Prince Geoffrey’s attention.”
    â€œNot in this hideous thing! I told you the yellow gown would flatter me more!” Eustacia folded her arms across her ample chest and aimed a kick at the ladies’ maid.
    â€œOw!” cried the poor young woman, sitting back on her heels and spilling the pins hither and yon.
    â€œClumsy, useless wench!” Eustacia shrilled.
    The maid ran from the room crying.
    Wilhemina drawled, “Come now, my dear, do refrain from driving away yet another of the servants. I’ll have a terrible time replacing her. If you continue in this manner, you’ll end with no one but your stepsister to maid you. And, frankly, she’s no good at it. Lord Lancastyr has spoiled her horribly. She has no useful skills whatsoever.”
    Eustacia stamped one foot on the polished oak parquet. “Mamma, you know full well I am not the only one who frightens away the servants. Why, when the butler gave notice, he said it was because he would not stay in any household of which you were mistress.”
    â€œWatch your tongue, ungrateful girl. We could retain staff if we had enough coin to throw at the problem, but I have already spent most of Lord Lancastyr’s fortune,” said Wilhemina. “Mind you, Eustacia, I’ve gone to all sorts of expense, decking you out in Zhinese velvet and South Sea pearls, with nothing to show for it. You still have not received any offers of marriage. So I expect you to be on your very best, most winning behavior at the ball.”
    Swiss’s whiskers tickled my ear. “I wonder why no one wants her, eh? With her irresistible charm and character.”
    Eustacia thrust out her lower lip farther. “It is not my fault that I have no suitors, Mamma. I make myself agreeable to the gentlemen, laugh at their jests, touch their sleeves to show interest, and hang upon their every word.”
    Wilhemina’s eyes had grown wider and wider during her daughter’s speech. “Why, you foolish girl! Gentlemen are not interested in young ladies who exhibit desperate behavior. Ignore and torment the pitiful fools—that will bring them panting after you. It has always worked for me.”
    She glanced into the large gilded looking glass on Eustacia’s dressing table, then frowned and touched an area under her chin experimentally. It wobbled.
    I experienced a twinge of satisfaction at her startled look.
    Eustacia threw herself upon her frilly bed. “But, Mamma, that is not what you did with Lord Lancastyr. I distinctly recall how, after you first encountered him at the dressmaker’s, you constantly dragged us over to see him and even sent round a copy of the Reverend Throckmorton’s Book of Sermons on the Indubitable Promise of Heaven for the Souls of