"Look," he said. "Does she look familiar?" He pointed to a portrait of a spunky-looking little girl.

"Eloise!" I said. "That was my favorite book when I was little." I walked closer to the picture. It was signed by the artist, Hilary Knight. "This is great," I said. "It's like Eloise was real." The book is about this little girl who

lives at the Plaza and gets into all kinds of mischief. It's really funny.

"There's the Palm Court," said Quint, pointing. I pulled myself away from Eloise and followed him toward the restaurant. When we reached the entrance, this man in a tuxedo stopped us.

"Can I help you?" he asked, sounding rather snooty. He obviously couldn't figure out what two kids like us were doing at such a fancy restaurant.

Quint impressed me by acting extremely cool and mature. "We're meeting some friends," he said. "They may have already arrived. it’s the McGill party."

"Ah, the McGill party," said the man. "Right this way, sir." He led us through the restaurant to a table where Stacey and her father were waiting. Then he pulled out a chair for me and gave Quint a slight bow.

"Thank you," said Quint and I at the same time.

"Hi, Jessi," said Stacey. "Isn't this place elegant?" She smoothed the pink tablecloth in front of her.

I looked around. I hadn't even been paying attention to the decor. When we walked through the restaurant, I'd been looking around at the people, checking to see if Frank

and Red were there. I had a feeling Quint had done the same thing. In the cab, we'd discussed what we would do if we saw them. Our plan was to a) alert the police immediately if the two of them did anything at all suspicious, or b) make a run for it if they seemed to recognize us.