Without further ado, she reached for her shawl, wrapped it around her shoulders, and headed for the door.

“Well, I think it’s nice to have children in the Pennyfoot at Christmastime.” Mrs. Chubb wiped her wet hands on her apron and hurried over to the kitchen table, where a large beef roast stood waiting to be carved. Pulling a carving knife from its stand, she waved it at Gertie. “I miss the twins running around here. Those two little ones remind me of your James and Lillian. They must be about the same age-seven or eight, don’t you think?”

Gertie sniffed and dashed a hand across her nose. Tears glistened in her eyes due to the stinging smell of the onions she was chopping for the stew. “My twins ain’t nothing like those two Millshire brats. Little devils, they are. I caught them swinging on the curtains in the library. It’s a wonder they didn’t pull them down.”

Mrs. Chubb smiled. “They’re just excited, that’s all. Your twins get into all sorts of scrapes when they’re excited. Especially this time of year.”

“My twins don’t sauce me back when I tell them off.” Gertie wiped her dripping nose again with the back of her hand then went on chopping. “You can tell those two have toffs for parents. They’re just as bloody stuck-up as the grown-ups. Talked to me like I was a bleeding worm under their feet, they did.”

“Well, they’ll settle down after a while.” Mrs. Chubb started carving wafer-thin slices of beef from the roast. “Just be careful what you say to them. We don’t want them carrying tales to their father, now do we?”

Gertie didn’t answer. As far as she was concerned, Lord and Lady Millshire’s offspring were spoiled rotten and a sound boxing around the ears would do them a world of good.

“Here.” Mrs. Chubb handed a plate of roast beef sandwiches to Gertie. “Mr. Mortimer’s tray is on the dresser. Take this up to him, and make up a cheese and fruit plate to go with it. Oh, and pick up a glass of sherry from the bar on the way.”