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“What? Oh, no—no, that’s not what I was talking about, no.” Mr. Barnum looked as mortified as I was; he even deliberately dropped his tobacco pouch to give himself a moment to collect his bearings. “Vinnie, I am sorry about your, er, situation. Forgive me for not having considered something of that nature before I blundered on. However—well, first things first. No, I’m talking about the fact that you were still under contract to someone else when you signed with me.”

“Oh.” I sank back into my chair and allowed my feet to dangle, something I generally tried very hard not to do. “Colonel Wood. He contacted you.” It was not a question; I knew it was true. I had always known it would be true, someday.

“Yes, he did. Tell me, Vinnie, why didn’t you mention it from the first? It would have been no problem at all—I would have paid the scoundrel off with a pittance, and no more would be heard. But now you’re famous, you’re Society—you’re worth so much more. And this Wood, whatever he may be, is no fool.”

“No, he’s not, although he is an evil, evil man!” I spat the words bitterly, for they were bile in my mouth. All the humiliation, all the times he had kicked at me, threatened to pick me up, throw me across a room—and then the ultimate mortification of trying to sell me as if I were a slave—it all came back, washing over me so that I felt my very skin turn grimy and dirty with riverboat muck once more.

“Is he—he is the one who you told me about? Who tried to sell you?” Mr. Barnum’s voice was very gentle; I longed to look into his face, knowing that I would see absolution there. But I could not bring myself to. I simply nodded.

“I see. Rest assured, next time I see him I will thrash him with my own cane. However, before I thrash him, I have to pay him off, and he is demanding quite a sum not to go to the papers and complain that the dastardly Barnum has cheated him out of a livelihood—not to mention, he made some ridiculous threat to tell stories about you that would make Mrs. Astor’s hair stand up on end. Now I understand what he was alluding to—although no one would ever fault you, of course. Still, talk of it would be damaging. So you see, Vinnie—come, look at me, friend.” Mr. Barnum hooked his finger beneath my chin and lifted my face so that I could not look away. His eyes were kindness and understanding, both; I searched and searched, but could not find one hint of accusation or disappointment in them. And so I was able to nod and bravely smile back, ready to follow him into battle.

“What do I have to do?”

“Well, this is going to cost us both, Vinnie, as both our reputations are at stake. Look, I’m willing to pay the man what he asks. But it’s a very pretty sum, I don’t mind telling you. It’s going to take me a while to make it back. This is where you can help.”

“How? I’ll do anything—absolutely anything, I promise. I give you my word.”

“I’m glad to hear that, very glad to hear that. For I want you to convince Minnie to sign with me.”

“No.” I shook my head violently. I repeated it just in case he didn’t understand, as he wasn’t used to being contradicted. “No.”

“Vinnie, consider the facts. I believe Minnie had a very good time at your wedding, didn’t she?”

I didn’t reply. Yes, my shy little sister did have a good time at our wedding, much to my surprise. While she had clutched at my hand with every step, she had never been completely overwhelmed; indeed, she accepted it all with an equanimity that surprised me. And at night, she had even stayed up late to talk everything over; that was when her excitement truly could not be contained. During the day she was a model of bashful maidenhood; at night, she bubbled over as she tried to process all the lovely things she was experiencing. And as happy as she was to board the train back home, her letters since had betrayed a thirst for news they never had before. No more were they tear-stained pleas for me to come home; now she asked, in a clear hand, how Charles was, how her good