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places. Her underwear had been commented upon
by Becky, who didn’t understand why Miss Prophet’s drawers didn’t
have frilly lace edgings and elaborately embroidered flowers as her
own did.
    Callie had explained that when a young
lady grew up, especially when she attained employment, she bad, of
necessity, to wear clothing that was more sober than frilly. She
didn’t mention the fact that she, although not dirt poor, couldn’t
afford the fabulously expensive clothing that Becky wore. She also
didn’t mention that she would rather see Becky in rags than living
with a father who substituted frills for love.
    Next, they’d fixed a sandbox for
Monster. “Just in case he feels the need,” Callie had told Becky
with a wink.
    The little girl had giggled merrily.
Callie was glad to see her in such a happy frame of mind. And all
because somebody who was willing to talk to her and listen to her
had come into her life.
    It wasn’t right. It wasn’t good. It
was a crying shame that this little girl’s life should have to be
made bright by Callida Prophet, a stranger and a hired nanny.
Callie wished she could smack Mr. Aubrey Lockhart about the head
and shoulders with some kind of blunt instrument.
    She pushed the thought aside and
reminded herself of her promise to go easy on Becky’s father. “All
right, young lady, let’s just see what your papa has in his
library. I’ll bet we can find something or other about New
York.”
    Becky had been fascinated by Callie’s
stories of how she and her sisters used to dread trips to New York
to visit their aunt. Callie had played up Aunt Venetia’s sour side,
with a prayer to her Maker for forgiveness. She didn’t feel too
guilty. Aunt Venetia really could be a beast without half trying,
and Callie figured God would commend her for making this child
happy, even if doing so involved telling one or two exaggerated
tales about her aunt.
    “ You can show me on the
globe where it is,” Becky suggested cheerily.
    “ I can indeed.” Providing
Becky’s papa wasn’t ensconced in the room, in which case Callie
planned to introduce a diversion. She didn’t fancy running into Mr.
Aubrey Lockhart until she absolutely had to.
    The library door stood open, however,
and there was no sign of Aubrey within. Callie heaved a gusty
internal sigh. She wasn’t afraid of him; it was only that she
didn’t want to tangle with him while she was so blasted mad at him.
The longer she remained in Becky’s company, the more firmly she
believed the child needed her. More, she needed her father, the big
lug.
    Becky skipped into the room and darted
over to a huge and beautiful globe standing on an ornamental
teakwood stand.
    “ Here’s Papa’s globe. Can
you show me New York?”
    Callie joined her at the globe. “I
certainly can. Can you show me where the United States
is?”
    Becky was happy to demonstrate her
geographical knowledge. Before pointing out the United States, she
reeled off the rest of the continents, much to Callie’s
delight.
    “ This one’s Asia,” the
little girl said in a teacherish voice. “This is where most of my
papa’s business comes from. In China. See? This is China. Over
here’s India. He gets pretty things from India, too. He imports tea
from both places.”
    “ I see.” Callie nodded
soberly, although inside she was smiling.
    “ And this big one is
‘Stralia. It’s a big island, Papa says.”
    “ I see.”
    “ Papa says the English
people used to send their criminals there.” Becky shuddered
eloquently. “1 wouldn’t like to live there with all those
criminals.”
    “ No, indeed.” Callie didn’t
spoil Becky’s moment by telling her that lots of the original
settlers in the United States were deemed criminals by their
British judges.
    “ And here’s Europe. That’s
where Mama’s ans’ters are from. Right here. In Wales.”
    “ My goodness. That’s very
interesting, Becky. Do you know where your papa’s ancestors came
from?”
    Becky nodded