‘Good morning, Mum,’ said Mrs Finch. ‘Can I clear?’

‘Not yet. We haven’t finished,’ said Mrs Swettenham. ‘Not quite finished,’ she added ingratiatingly.

Casting a look at Edmund and his paper, Mrs Finch sniffed, and withdrew.

‘I’ve only just begun,’ said Edmund, just as his mother remarked:

‘I do wish you wouldn’t read that horrid paper, Edmund. Mrs Finch doesn’t like itat all.’

‘I don’t see what my political views have to do with Mrs Finch.’

‘And it isn’t,’ pursued Mrs Swettenham, ‘as though youwere a worker. You don’t do any work at all.’

‘That’s not in the least true,’ said Edmund indignantly. ‘I’m writing a book.’

‘I meantreal work,’ said Mrs Swettenham. ‘And Mrs Finch does matter. If she takes a dislike to us and won’t come, who else could we get?’

‘Advertise in theGazette,’ said Edmund, grinning.

‘I’ve just told you that’s no use. Oh dear me, nowadays unless one has an old Nannie in the family, who will go into the kitchen and do everything, one is simplysunk.’

‘Well, why haven’t we an old Nannie? How remiss of you not to have provided me with one. What were you thinking about?’

‘You had anayah, dear.’

‘No foresight,’ murmured Edmund.

Mrs Swettenham was once more deep in the Personal Column.

‘Second hand Motor Mower for sale. Now I wonder…Goodness, what aprice!…More dachshunds…“Do writeorcommunicate desperate Woggles.” What silly nicknames people have…Cocker Spaniels…Do you remember darling Susie, Edmund? She really washuman. Understood every word you said to her…Sheraton sideboard for sale. Genuine family antique. Mrs Lucas, Dayas Hall…What a liar that woman is! Sheraton indeed…!’

Mrs Swettenham sniffed and then continued her reading:

‘All a mistake, darling. Undying love.