Helen hastily dabbed a kiss on my cheek. "Now, Ted, please!"
"I obey, Omphale. Call in Chitty."
"Call him in yourself," was Helen's parting shot.
Chitty and I laboured some time setting up beds, beginning with the crib in the nursery. Though the heavens were to fall, the baby had to have a nap at precisely two o'clock every afternoon. We were interrupted once by Helen, who reported that cook, housemaid, and nurse alike had refused point blank to eat any of Chitty's cooking. It ended by our sending them all off to a public house, near the station, where food was obtainable.
"An ominous look-out until we get that range going," I growled.
"I wish we had a Polish girl from Deep Harbor," was Helen's comment after her first run-in with English servants.
"I had rather have a Pole from Deep Harbor than an American from Warsaw," I amended.
"That is nonsense, Ted," Helen said.
"It isn't, if you think it over," I replied.
Chitty and I resumed setting up beds. At the end of the first hour I paused. My face was moist.