You won’t be surprised to hear that after at least an hour of quite intense discussion, Lulu—as she so often did—got her way. This meant persuading her mom and her dad (though they swore they would miss her to pieces) to go off on lots of trips and vacations without her. It also meant making them promise that whenever they left town, they’d put her in the care of Ms. Solinsky. Who, to their bewilderment, seemed to have won their daughter’s undying affection. And who, looking great in stiletto heels, loose hair, and a slinky blue dress (she only wore the uniform to intimidate extremely difficult kids) was saying good-bye to everyone and rushing off for a date with Harry Potter.

•  •  •

And so, from that time on, Triple S came to stay—several times a year—with Double L, giving her lessons in spy craft, except when she needed to be disciplined for too much arguing and too little obeying. For Lulu, you won’t be surprised to hear, continued to be difficult, though not as extremely as she used to be. And whenever she was, she was handed a little toothbrush and a bucket of soapy water and told to scrub the steps in front of her house.

What made Lulu keep being difficult was her absolute conviction that she was the greatest spy-in-training ever. And though, no doubt about it, she was truly gifted and talented, she constantly got into trouble because she constantly wanted to do too much too soon.

Like trying to wreck, then Restore and Repair, that tree by her bathroom window. (Except that because Lulu’s wrecking was so much better than her restoring, it required all of Ms. Solinsky’s spy-craft skills to rescue the poor tree.)

Or like trying to Disguise herself as a helicopter. (It took Ms. Solinsky less than two seconds to Penetrate Lulu’s disguise because most helicopters do not wear knee socks.)

Or like trying to Hack—imagine! The nerve!—into Ms. Solinsky’s computer. (Except that when she did, she found that every single item of information—including some personal e-mails from Harry Potter—had been transcribed into an unbreakable Code.)

Or like trying to create a Mysterious Mission, complete with clues, for Ms. Solinsky to figure out and follow. (But Ms. Solinsky figured them out almost as fast as she read them, except when she almost choked on the clue that Lulu had cut up into little pieces and mixed into her morning bean-and-beet omelet.)

After the b-and-b incident, Ms. Solinsky spoke a few words to Lulu. She spoke in a slow and soft and most serious voice. “You may be pretty good, Double L,” she told her. “But you aren’t—repeat, AREN’T—good enough yet!”

Lulu hung her head and tried to look sincerely embarrassed. But—let’s be honest here—she wasn’t embarrassed. In fact, she was feeling extremely proud of the stuff she had tried to do, even though it hadn’t exactly worked out. In fact, she was feeling quite positive that even though she might not be good enough YET, she surely would be much more than good enough SOON.

However, she continued—in the interest of not making trouble—to hang her head.

Ms. Solinsky, who knew very well how to tell a truly embarrassed girl from a fake one, gave Lulu an oh-so-understanding smile.

After which she presented her, as she would for years to come, with a toothbrush and a bucket of soapy water.