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in.”
    “ Oh, yes,
please.”
    That the child should be so happy to
help her do a job of work touched Callie’s heart. Again. If this
kept up, she’d become so attached to Becky she’d never be able to
leave this house. The image of an elderly Callie Prophet, hobbling
around with a cane and admonishing a grown-up Becky Lockhart to
mind her manners made her giggle.
    Becky looked at her curiously, but
Callie only gave her a big hug.
     
     

Chapter Three
     
    Aubrey frowned when he heard Becky’s
squeal of delight issue from the room she’d begged he allot to Miss
Callida Prophet. Pausing at the door to lean closer and listen, his
brow wrinkled.
    “ Yes indeed,
Becky.”
    Miss Prophet’s voice, pleasant and
with a smile in it, sailed out through the keyhole and into
Aubrey’s ear. He decided he liked her voice, although he wasn’t at
all sure he liked her. She was too young and too impertinent to be
a proper nanny for his Becky.
    The voice continued. “Alta, Florence,
and I used to live in terror of our aunt Venetia. She’s a very
formidable dame.”
    “ What’s ‘formable’ mean?”
Becky wanted to know.
    In spite of himself, Aubrey
smiled.
    “ Formidable means that she’s
the type of person around whom one always minds one’s manners. She
walks like this.”
    Aubrey wished he could see what Miss
Prophet was doing now, because his daughter went off into shouts of
laughter. The sound wrenched his heart. He hadn’t heard Becky laugh
like that since before Anne died.
    “ She walks like my
great-aunt Evelyn!” Becky cried, still laughing.
    “ Oh, dear, I’m so sorry,
dear.”
    Aubrey had to stifle a
chuckle.
    “ And she talks like this,”
Miss Prophet continued, “ ‘None of your uppity ways, miss. Not here
in New York, where proper manners prevail.’ ”
    Miss Prophet’s voice had taken on the
broadest, twangiest, awfullest New York accent Aubrey had ever
heard. Again, Becky shrieked with laughter. His own smile
broadened.
    “ Oh, Miss Prophet! My tummy
hurts from laughing!”
    He could imagine Miss Prophet shaking
her head in mock sympathy when she next spoke.
    “ Well, Miss Becky, if you
laughed to Aunt Venetia’s face, she’d have something to say about
it. She doesn’t approve of laughter.”
    “ She doesn’t?”
    “ No, ma’am. She thinks it’s
vulgar to laugh.”
    “ Like my papa?”
    Aubrey’s smile evaporated
abruptly.
    A pause preceded Miss Prophet’s next
words. Aubrey didn’t know if she was thinking about her answer or
hanging something up. “I don’t think your papa disapproves of
laughter, Becky. I think he’s just a little sad.”
    “ His heart hurts,” Becky
said. “Like mine.”
    “ Oh, sweetheart!”
    Aubrey’s ears detected a rustling of
fabric, from which he gathered that Miss Prophet had picked Becky
up and was hugging her. He entertained the nonsensical wish that he
were a small boy and could be comforted by such means,
    But no such tender mercies were
available to him.
    Guilt stabbed at his heart when he
thought about how unhappy Anne would have been to see him in this
pathetic and pitiful state. Worse, she’d be appalled at how
shamefully he’d been neglecting Becky.
    With a sigh, he went on down the hall
to his own room so he could change out of his riding clothes. He’d
taken a trip to Santa Angelica to talk to Mr. Wilson about Miss
Prophet. Unfortunately, Mr. Wilson had given her a sterling
character reference, so Aubrey couldn’t dismiss her on that
account.
    Not that he wanted to dismiss her if
Becky liked her. He supposed he ought to give her a chance, even if
she was too young, too rash, and too impudent, and didn’t treat him
with the proper deference.
    Still, it galled him that Miss Callida
Prophet didn’t fit a single one of the images he’d formed of how a
proper nanny should look and behave. He felt beleaguered by
circumstances and very grumpy when he left his room.
    ******
    All of Callie’s clothes had been put
away in their proper