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three ladies. Chickens screeched and feathers flew, but the driver of the carriage refused to budge. The sulky drayman had to back his team out of the way to permit the two carriage horses to step smartly into the empty space beside Eben’s wagon.
    At once, Eben was aware of the presence of Isabelle Shaw. She was wedged in the back of the carriage between her mother and Mrs. Biddle. In front sat Isabelle’s father, Josiah Gideon, and the Reverend Horatio Biddle. The two men were in heated argument. Behind them, the women sat shocked and silent. Both disputants were clergymen, but the peace of God was not in evidence. Eben said a polite good morning and nodded at the ladies, but only Isabelle’s mother gave him a wan smile. When the three women began gathering their skirts to descend, he jumped down to help, but Isabelle was too quick for him. Before he could take her hand, she was standing in the road, assisting Mrs. Biddle. Isabelle’s mother took Eben’s hand gratefully, but the two men on the forward seats made no move to step down. They were still in hot dispute.
    Isabelle looked around as though she had forgotten why they had come. Julia took her arm and together they walked across the green toward the studio of the photographers. Mrs. Biddle followed, tugging off her gloves and popping up her parasol, her lips compressed.
    Disappointed, Eben climbed back on the wagon, pretending not to hear the tempest of dialectic beside him, but Horace stared openmouthed. The faces of the two men were red with anger, their voices passionate and loud. Yet the content of their disagreement was purely philosophical. It was a classic argument, like the debates of Eben’s student days. Listening, keeping his eyes on Mab’s cocked ears, he soon had a title for this one—“Query: whether the truths of science and the revelations of religion be not fundamentally opposed.”
    Debater Josiah had taken the negative: No, they were not opposed, and only at its peril might religion ignore the great new truths of science.
    Reverend Horatio argued vehemently for the positive. The so-called truths of the new science were not true at all, but false. They were undermining the faith of the fathers, spreading doubt and confusion in the hearts of Christian believers.
    â€œSir,” said Josiah, “you must have heard of Mr. Darwin’s great book?”
    â€œSir,” replied Horatio, “you must have read Professor Agassiz’s reply?”
    It was a standoff. Eben kept his eyes fixed on the men lounging on the steps of the courthouse, but he listened with all his might. Horace gaped and stared. Even Mab flicked her ears, as if she were listening, too.

“Don’t Tell!”

    N ext?” said the photographer in the bowler hat. This time, it was Jake Spratt, taking over from his exhausted brother, but the customers were not aware of the difference, because Jake was the spitting image of Jack.
    There were only a few customers left by the time the party from Nashoba took its place in line. Isabelle found herself just behind Ella Viles.
    Ella had frizzed her hair with curlpapers, and she looked fetching in a ribbon bow. At once, she leaned close to Isabelle and murmured, “My likeness is for Eben.”
    Isabelle was startled. “You mean Eben Flint?”
    â€œOf course,” whispered Ella. “We’re promised.” Slyly, she rolled her eyes sideways to the place where Eben and his small nephew waited beside the wagon in which Isabelle’s father and Mr. Biddle were still sitting stiffly upright.
    â€œPromised? You are?” In spite of herself, Isabelle could not hide her dismay. Not for herself, of course, but for Eben—that he should settle for a girl like Ella Viles.
    â€œIt’s a secret,” whispered Ella. “Promise you won’t tell.”
    Isabelle mumbled something, but she was grateful when her old friend Ida came hurrying up to embrace her