expect I can do it so well.”
“Practice makes perfect,” said Alec with a grin.
“I expect he’s grumpy because he’s feeling rheumaticky,” Daisy said forgivingly.
As they reached the top of the hill, Alec started to swing Miranda down. She refused to let go of his hair.
“Bel, you’re quite wrong. She understands about hanging on. What she doesn’t understand is that Da-da doesn’t care for a damp collar.”
“Oh, Daddy!” Belinda giggled, and a muffled snort came from Bertha. “Bend down and I’ll make her let go. There you are. Mirrie, darling, I’m not carrying you wet. You’ll have to go back in the pushchair.”
Daisy deposited Oliver, too, who was beginning to smell less than fragrant. It was Mrs. Gilpin’s turn to look smug. “They should have gone on the pot half an hour ago,” she announced, “but Miss Belinda
would
walk on.” Stately as a dowager duchess, she sailed ahead with the pushchair, Bertha trotting at her side, receiving low-voiced instruction.
Belinda skipped along between Daisy and Alec, arms linked through theirs. “I’m glad I don’t have to change nappies,” she said.
“You’d better learn how, darling,” said Daisy. “I have the best of both worlds, playing with the twins as much as I want but not having to do the dirty work. When I was little, Nanny ruled supreme, and we hardly ever saw my parents. Of course,” she mused, “I’m not at all sure Mother ever had the least desire to challenge Nanny’s rule. But by the time you have children, who knows how the world will be?”
Bel wrinkled her nose. “All right, Mummy, I’ll ask Bertha to show me how. I’ll even do it myself. Practice makes perfect! I do like helping to give them baths, though. It’s such fun watching them splash.”
When they reached the house, the parlour maid met them with a folded note. Daisy opened it.
“From next door. An invitation to drinks before dinner tomorrow, to meet the neighbours.”
Alec groaned. “Must we?”
“I’m afraid so, darling.” She checked that the parlour maid had returned downstairs. “Unless you want to hide behind closed curtains with all the lights off. But we’d never get away with it anyway. Remember, Elsie’s sister is parlour maid next door.”
“And a rotten idea that will probably prove to be! I bet that’s how the Jessups know I’m home for a few days. We could try for theatre or concert tickets?”
“We could, but we’ll have to take the plunge sooner or later. After all, we’re not only neighbours, we’re their landlords. We don’t want to behave as if we’re high-and-mighty, and turn them against us. Besides, the Jessups are nice people. Mr. Jessup did offer to provide drink at cost for a housewarming party.”
“Trying to worm his way into my good graces. We don’t have to have a party, do we?”
“I thought the best thing would be to wait till Christmas and hold an open house for everyone, your friends, my friends, relatives—”
“Mothers?” Alec asked with deep foreboding.
“We’ll have to sometime, darling. This way, they’ll be sort of diluted.”
“You have a point.” He sighed. “All right, drinks next door tomorrow. I suppose that nosy old man from the Heath will be there.”
“Diluted,” Daisy said hopefully.
“She was on the stage, you know,” said Miss Bennett in an insinuating tone. A pudgy woman with pepper-and-salt hair, confined in a net, and a round, pale, doughy face, she had cornered Daisy.
“Our hostess?” Chorus girl? Music hall turn? Though dying to know, she wouldn’t have asked for the world. To do so would only encourage the beastly woman’s tattling, and she didn’t need any encouragement. Obviously, the Bennetts were going to be the flies in the ointment. One ought to be able to interview one’s prospective neighbours before moving.
“We all know about actresses. And Irish, into the bargain!” said Miss Bennett darkly.
“Such charming people, I’ve always
“Practice makes perfect,” said Alec with a grin.
“I expect he’s grumpy because he’s feeling rheumaticky,” Daisy said forgivingly.
As they reached the top of the hill, Alec started to swing Miranda down. She refused to let go of his hair.
“Bel, you’re quite wrong. She understands about hanging on. What she doesn’t understand is that Da-da doesn’t care for a damp collar.”
“Oh, Daddy!” Belinda giggled, and a muffled snort came from Bertha. “Bend down and I’ll make her let go. There you are. Mirrie, darling, I’m not carrying you wet. You’ll have to go back in the pushchair.”
Daisy deposited Oliver, too, who was beginning to smell less than fragrant. It was Mrs. Gilpin’s turn to look smug. “They should have gone on the pot half an hour ago,” she announced, “but Miss Belinda
would
walk on.” Stately as a dowager duchess, she sailed ahead with the pushchair, Bertha trotting at her side, receiving low-voiced instruction.
Belinda skipped along between Daisy and Alec, arms linked through theirs. “I’m glad I don’t have to change nappies,” she said.
“You’d better learn how, darling,” said Daisy. “I have the best of both worlds, playing with the twins as much as I want but not having to do the dirty work. When I was little, Nanny ruled supreme, and we hardly ever saw my parents. Of course,” she mused, “I’m not at all sure Mother ever had the least desire to challenge Nanny’s rule. But by the time you have children, who knows how the world will be?”
Bel wrinkled her nose. “All right, Mummy, I’ll ask Bertha to show me how. I’ll even do it myself. Practice makes perfect! I do like helping to give them baths, though. It’s such fun watching them splash.”
When they reached the house, the parlour maid met them with a folded note. Daisy opened it.
“From next door. An invitation to drinks before dinner tomorrow, to meet the neighbours.”
Alec groaned. “Must we?”
“I’m afraid so, darling.” She checked that the parlour maid had returned downstairs. “Unless you want to hide behind closed curtains with all the lights off. But we’d never get away with it anyway. Remember, Elsie’s sister is parlour maid next door.”
“And a rotten idea that will probably prove to be! I bet that’s how the Jessups know I’m home for a few days. We could try for theatre or concert tickets?”
“We could, but we’ll have to take the plunge sooner or later. After all, we’re not only neighbours, we’re their landlords. We don’t want to behave as if we’re high-and-mighty, and turn them against us. Besides, the Jessups are nice people. Mr. Jessup did offer to provide drink at cost for a housewarming party.”
“Trying to worm his way into my good graces. We don’t have to have a party, do we?”
“I thought the best thing would be to wait till Christmas and hold an open house for everyone, your friends, my friends, relatives—”
“Mothers?” Alec asked with deep foreboding.
“We’ll have to sometime, darling. This way, they’ll be sort of diluted.”
“You have a point.” He sighed. “All right, drinks next door tomorrow. I suppose that nosy old man from the Heath will be there.”
“Diluted,” Daisy said hopefully.
“She was on the stage, you know,” said Miss Bennett in an insinuating tone. A pudgy woman with pepper-and-salt hair, confined in a net, and a round, pale, doughy face, she had cornered Daisy.
“Our hostess?” Chorus girl? Music hall turn? Though dying to know, she wouldn’t have asked for the world. To do so would only encourage the beastly woman’s tattling, and she didn’t need any encouragement. Obviously, the Bennetts were going to be the flies in the ointment. One ought to be able to interview one’s prospective neighbours before moving.
“We all know about actresses. And Irish, into the bargain!” said Miss Bennett darkly.
“Such charming people, I’ve always
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