The previous day Selma had come down the stairs at Mortlyn having treated Oliver’s leg.
Needless to say he had been doing too much and she had to read him a strict lecture on being more careful.
“It is so boring here,” Oliver complained. “If I was with you and Uncle Wade, it would be different.”
“With the best will in the world,” Selma laughed, “I don’t think we could squeeze any more people into The Dovecote.”
It was not a large house and besides Nanny, there were Daws, Emily, Mr. Hunter’s son and a footman all sleeping in the house.
The chef, Amy and the footmen, who relieved each other both by night and day, arrived every morning and left late in the evening,
It made Selma laugh, when she had thought that she and Nanny were going to be alone there, to realise that the small house
