Pip ate her meals with the girls in the nursery. That evening, to her surprise, the table was set for six. Not only were there three extra place settings, but those settings had crystal glasses and silver tableware and snowy-white napkins. As an accessory to the finery on the table, was a footman.
“What’s all this for?” Pip asked.
“The viscount and his guests are dining here tonight,” the footman said. His tone told her that he considered waiting on the nursery table to be beneath his dignity.
Pip had eaten hundreds of dinners during her years as a governess, all of them adequate, many of them good, but this dinner was unquestionably the best. Not because of the food—although the food was better than she was used to—but because of the company. She couldn’t reprimand the girls for talkin
