Once under way Peggy set herself to be entertaining. She talked so rapidly, changing the subject with such abruptness as to hold Amy’s attention fixed on her conversational gymnastics. When she halted suddenly in front of a shabby looking building on West Spring Street Amy cast a startled glance about her and fixed her gaze on a fly-specked card, in the window, bearing the announcement, "Madame Planchet, Palmist." Then she turned on Peggy eyes brimful of reproach. Peggy had expected this. "We are going in," she said quietly. "No, Peggy. O, not again! I can’t stand it." "Yes, we are, my dear. And the only thing I ask of you is not to say a word more than you can help. Leave me to do the talking." She pushed Amy up the steps ahead of her, and held tightly to her arm, as she rang the bell, apparently apprehensive that her captive would take to flight if not forcibly detained. Amy’s air of shrinking horror did much to justify this suspicion. When shuffling footsteps sounded in the hall, and a slatternly girl opened the door, Amy drew back with a precipitateness which came near sending the two of them to the bottom of the steps. "Is Madame Planchet at home?" demanded Peggy, righting herself adroitly, and clutching Amy more tightly than before. "Walk in," said the slattern, and led them down the hall to a stuffy little room hung with mysterious charts. Peggy looked about her with an air of interest. "I am almost sure this is the place," she cried. "Charts on the wall and red curtains, just as Roxanna said. Yes, I’m pretty sure we’re right." Amy opened her mouth and closed it without emitting a sound, in a fashion suggestive of a dying fish. She perceived from Peggy’s expression that she was expected to listen to her friend’s observations, instead of taking part in the conversation. "I don’t know why you should act so scared over the idea of having your fortune told, as lucky a girl as you are. For of course your Uncle Philander’s money is all coming to you." Again Amy’s jaw dropped. She looked frankly stupid. "Doesn’t it seem lovely to think you’re going to see Europe this summer?" continued Peggy enthusiastically. "I think you were sensible though, to travel all over this country first. O, dear! It would make me fairly envious if it were anybody but you. To think that I’ve hardly been out of the town I was born in, and here you go everywhere." Peggy’s fancy sketches were beginning to be interesting, by virtue of their sheer audacity. Amy listened, a faint amusement showing through her air of perplexity. "Won’t it seem funny to settle down in Germany to study your music, after your lovely summer? But I suppose you love that too, almost as much as travelling. That’s what comes of being a genius."