As the three were addressing their dinner a coach drew up and everyone went to the hall to greet Peter and Amy.They were tired, chilled, happy, and just the same as before.Except that Amy lost her smile and raised her chin when she saw her host.
“Well,” she said, “we’ve come, Nicholas, but only because you said it was for Eleanor’s sake.Is she well?”
“Very well,” he said evenly, “and delivered of a daughter two days ago.”
This news broke the ice a little.
“Come and eat,” Nicholas said, “and then you can go up to see her.”
He shook hands with Peter.This poor man was looking uncomfortable at his wife’s hostility and unsure of what attitude he himself should take.
“Did you enjoy France?”asked Nicholas, for this was where the couple had spent their honeymoon.The topic set conversation on the roll for the rest of the meal.
When Amy had finished eating, Nicholas asked Miss Hurstman to take her up to see Eleanor and the baby.
“I long to see it … her, I mean.I have hopes…” Amy went bright red.
“She’s increasing,” said Peter with complacency, “but she hasn’t got over her maidenly modesty yet.”
Amy fled.
The men chatted on for a while, and then Peter expressed a desire to admire the infant too.They all trooped up the stairs to Eleanor’s room.
Arabel was asleep in her cradle, bottom in the air, cheek as soft as a petal.Amy, Miss Hurstman, and Eleanor were gossiping over tea.
Peter frowned down at the baby.“It’s a bit small.”
Nicholas chuckled.“Another man who knows nothing of babes.How about you, Amy?Have you any notion how to go on?”
“No.I wish I could hold her, though,” she said wistfully.
Competently, Nicholas gathered up the sleeping child and placed it in her nervous arms.The child hardly stirred.
“She’s beautiful,” said Amy softly.“But Peter’s right.She’s incredibly tiny.”
This pleasant moment was shattered by a crash and a scream.Nicholas, first out the door, found the nursery maid sprawled in the hall wailing.She wailed even louder.
Behind him the baby woke and shrieked.Another maid came running, threw up her hands and wailed in sympathy.
Chaos reigned.
Nicholas looked round helplessly then took control.
“Amy, give the baby to Eleanor.No, Arabel won’t break.Just take care of her head; the rest is rubber.Peter, can you send someone for the doctor?Unless I miss my guess, the girl’s broken her leg.”
He turned to the second maid.“Stop shrieking, girl, or I’ll slap you.Go and help with the baby.”
Arabel was howling with the pure rage of a frightened and offended newborn.Eleanor was frantically trying to calm her and probably making things worse.Amy and the maid stood by, wringing their hands.
Most of the household was on the scene, and he saw the injured nurse, now quieted to moaning, was carefully carried off to a spare bedroom.Miss Hurstman went with her to help as best she could.The other servants were then sent back to their business, and peace of a sort was restored—except for one baby squalling in unrelieved panic and rage.
“What’s the matter with her?”Eleanor wailed.“She won’t stop.I don’t know what to do.”
“Nothing serious is the matter,” Nicholas said firmly.“Try to calm down.If you go on this way it’ll dry your milk.”He gave her a hug, but the baby kept on squawling.
Who could ignore that piercing sound?
He grabbed the baby and held her against his shoulder, talking softly into her ear as he walked about.Gradually the shrieking subsided to little hiccups of distress.Then it started up again, blessedly at lower volume.
