“We hope he’ll pull us out of the soup.”
“So he ought to with his own flesh and blood in need.”
Henry looked in at the door. By the singular scowl Nanny gave him, Roberta saw that he was still the favourite.
“Hullo, Mrs. Burnaby,” he said. “Have you heard the news? We’re in the soup.”
“It’s not the first time, Mr. Henry, and it won’t be the last. His lordship’s brother will have to attend to it.”
Henry looked fixedly at his old nurse. “If he doesn’t,” he said, “I think we’ll really go bust.”
Nanny’s hands, big-jointed with rheumatism, made a quick involuntary movement.
“You’ll be all right, Nan,” added Henry. “We fixed you up with an annuity, didn’t we?”
“I’m not thinking of that, Mr. Henry.”
“No. No, I don’t suppose you are. I was, though.”