I'm not going back to be Aunt Anastasia's niece any more!
I'm going on being Miss Million's maid; I shall go to this new place in Wales with her!
CHAPTER XXXII
WALES FOREVER!
Well, here we are again, as the clown says in the harlequinade.
Once more the lives of Miss Million and her maid have been set amidst scenes until now quite unfamiliar to us.
After the noise and bustle of the Strand about the hotel in July, the quiet, leafy depths of a remote Welsh valley. After the glaring London sunshine on the baked pavements, the soft Welsh rain that has been weeping ever since our arrival over the wooded hills and the tiny, stone-fenced fields, and the river that prattles over its slaty bed and swirls into deep, clear pools a stone's-throw below this furnished country house that Miss Million has taken for three months.
At present the house party consists of Miss Million, Miss Vi Vassity, Mrs. Flukes, the ventriloquist's wife, her baby and her monthly nurse. Mr. Jessop, who wrote all the business letters with regard to the taking of the house, is to come down later, I believe.