Secrets at Sea Read Online Free PDF Page A

gone past gray to bald patches. Though she only had one tooth left, it was a big one.
    Spectacles are rare on a mouse, except in some silly children’s book. But Aunt Fannie wore a pair. They were made out of bent wire and chips of lens from a human’s reading glasses. They seemed to work for her. I’ll say this for Aunt Fannie: She sees better than she looks.
    She gave me and my finery the once-over. “Humph,” she remarked.
    If I wanted any advice out of her, it was time for the presents. She stuck her nose in the apple fritter and handed it over to Mona, who was hovering. Mona hovers.
    Aunt Fannie waited for more, so I drew out the scrap of watered taffeta.
    She fingered it. “Not best quality. Somebody’s been selling your Upstairs Cranstons short. Somebody’s been taking advantage. What color do you call it?”
    â€œIt is changeable,” I said, “back and forth between purple and green.”
    â€œI hope it’s not for Olive Cranston,” Aunt Fannie said. “It’s all wrong for her coloring. Olive is sallow. And it’s too grown-up for Camilla, being youngest. Camilla should be in white and pale pastels. Lavenders. Pinks.”
    Aunt Fannie is full of judgments.
    â€œI believe it’s for the mother, for Mrs. Cranston,” I said. “A ball gown.”
    Aunt Fannie Fenimore grappled with her shawls. “Mrs. Cranston in a ball gown? I hope she isn’t planning to show her shoulders!”
    â€œYou and me both,” I murmured.
    â€œWho is giving her this advice?” Aunt Fannie narrowed her eyes at me. Her lenses sparked.
    â€œAn old woman up from New York City on the tr—”
    â€œThe Minturn woman?”
    I shrugged. You can’t tell Aunt Fannie anything. She slapped her powder puff throne. Powder rose in the room.
    â€œThey have fallen into the hands of a crook and a fool. They would. She will put them in the wrong clothes and give them the wrong advice. She takes her cut from all the worst seamstresses and milliners and tailors in New York. And she’s never been out of this country. She’s lucky to be out of jail. The woman knows no more about how to behave in the Great World than a . . . McSorley.”
    Mere mention of this ragtag family from the wrong side of the road made all the nieces titter. Mona smirked.
    I just stood there.
    â€œThe Minturn woman will sell your Upstairs Cranstons down the river. They are lambs led to the slaughter. They are not the first fools she’s fleeced.”
    â€œI don’t know what I can do about it,” I mumbled. “They are packing to go this minute. The labels for first class are on the trunks. They’re away across the you-know-what to marry Olive off. And leaving us high and dry. What can I do? What’s to become of us?”
    I let a note of pleading creep into my voice. This was to remind Aunt Fannie that I was only a poor orphaned girl with nowhere to turn for advice except—
    â€œWell, you did right to come to me.” She adjusted her shawls. “We must look carefully into both your futures.”
    Both futures?
    â€œEverybody has two futures,” Aunt Fannie said. “The future you choose. Or the future that chooses you.”
    She snapped her fingers in the dusty air. “Bring forth the crystal ball!”
    Her nieces scattered in search of it. I sighed. I’d never been sure about that crystal ball. It was only a marble lost from some human child’s game. An aggie. But Aunt Fannie swore by it.
    Presently the crystal ball was before her, on its own pedestal. She made circles of it with her hands, and stared into its depths. I’d never believed in that thing, but now I wondered.
    â€œOh bother!” She looked aside. “It’s going in the wrong direction. It’s your futures we’re worried about, but it’s gone back.”
    The nieces were quiet as—mice. Mona hovered. I waited.
    â€œCome