“It’s marvelous!” she told Miriam. “No need for coal, it stays just as hot as you want it, and it doesn’t get dirty! What do all the servants do for a living? Do they just laze around all day?”

“Um,” said Paulette. One glance told Miriam that she was suffering a worse dose of culture shock than the young transportee—her shoulders were shaking like jelly. “Like, that’s the drawback, Brill. Where would you have the servants sleep, in a house like this?”

“Why, if there were several in the bedchamber you so kindly loaned—oh. I’m to drudge for my keep?”

“No,” Miriam interrupted before Paulette could wind her upany further. “Brill, ordinary people don’t have servants in their homes here.”

“Ordinary? But surely this isn’t—” Brill’s eyes widened.

Paulette nodded at her. “That’s me, common as muck!” she said brightly. “Listen, the way it works in this household is, if you make a mess, you tidy it up yourself. You saw the dishwasher?” Brill nodded, enthused. “There are other gadgets. A house this big doesn’t need servants. Tomorrow we’ll go get you some more clothes—” She glanced at Miriam for approval. “—then do next month’s food shopping, and I’ll show you where everything’s kept. Uh, Miriam, this is gonna slow everything up—”

“Doesn’t matter.” Miriam put her knife and fork down. She was, she decided, not only over-full but increasingly exhausted. “Take it easy. Brill needs to know how to function over here because if it all comes together the way I hope, she’s going to be over here regularly on business. She’ll be working with you, I hope.” She picked up her wineglass. “Tomorrow I’m going to go call on a relative. Then I think I’ve got a serious road trip ahead of me.”

“You’re going away?” asked Brill, carefully putting her glass down.

“Probably.” Miriam nodded. “But not immediately. Look, what I said earlier holds—you can go home whenever you want to, if it’s an emergency.