Little Lion Read Free Page B

Pickworth—” the nurse fumed.
    â€œAnd please use my sterling teapot, dear. The Pickworths have been drinking their tea from that teapot since the turn of the century.” Great-Aunt Maisie paused. “The turn of the last century,” she added, pleased with herself.
    The nurse took a deep breath. Her cheeks burned bright red.
    â€œWhy are you still standing there?” Great-Aunt Maisie asked her.
    Frustrated, the nurse turned around and stomped out, her bun slipping out of its clip.
    â€œI must talk to her about her attire,” Great-Aunt Maisie said. “No one looks good in all that purple. And her hair needs a trim.” She thought a moment, then said, “Perhaps I’ll have Henri come and do her hair for her. Yes! That’s a wonderful idea.”
    She picked up a small notebook and a slender gold pen and made a note. Then she closed the notebook firmly and smiled.
    â€œSo,” she said. “Where were we?”
    â€œGreat-Aunt Maisie?” Felix said cautiously. “Are you okay?”
    â€œOkay?” Great-Aunt Maisie laughed. “Why, I’m marvelous, child!”
    â€œBut what happened?” he asked, confused.
    Great-Aunt Maisie studied Felix’s face carefully. She opened her mouth as if she might say something, but then she closed it again.
    â€œYou look wonderful,” Maisie said. “And so . . . lively.”
    Great-Aunt Maisie nodded thoughtfully.
    â€œTell me,” she said, “have you children had any more . . . adventures?”
    Maisie shook her head. “We tried this morning. But it didn’t work.”
    Great-Aunt Maisie gasped. “It must work,” she said.
    â€œBut we don’t know what we did in the first place,” Maisie said.
    The nurse came back in noisily, wheeling a cart with the tea and shortbread. Even though the silver teapot was tarnished, Maisie could see the engraved
P
on it.
    â€œI suppose you want me to serve you, too,” the nurse said sarcastically.
    â€œWell, I’m not going to serve myself,” Great-Aunt Maisie said.
    With sharp, jerky motions, the nurse poured three cups of tea. Then she slammed the heavy teapot back down on the cart and stormed off.
    Great-Aunt Maisie watched her go, sighing. “She wouldn’t last a day at Elm Medona,” she said. “Why, she didn’t even add the cream and sugar.”
    Felix jumped up and busied himself doing just that. He opened the little sugar packets and poured them into the cups of tea, then opened the small containers of half-and-half.
    â€œMaisie,” Great-Aunt Maisie said, “make a note in my little notebook here, would you? I need some china teacups and saucers, the silver creamer and sugar bowl, and those darling little silver sugar tongs.”
    As Maisie jotted these things down, Great-Aunt Maisie smiled at her.
    When she finished, Great-Aunt Maisie turned her attention back to Felix. “Tell me what you did this morning. We have to determine your error.”
    â€œWell,” Felix said, “we picked up a document . . . blueprints actually—”
    â€œWe? Both of you?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œAnd?”
    â€œAnd nothing. I’m thinking maybe it was the time of day? Or that we didn’t say the same things as the first time?”
    Great-Aunt Maisie shooed at the air as if Felix were a fly.
    â€œOpen the drawer there by the bed,” she ordered him.
    Felix did as she asked.
    â€œSee the Fabergé egg inside?” she said.
    â€œWow!” Felix said. “This is amazing!”
    He held up a pink enamel egg on a stand made of gold decorated with green-gold leaves, rubies, and pearls.
    â€œBring it here,” Great-Aunt Maisie said, motioning him toward her.
    â€œIt’s beautiful,” Maisie said when Felix handed it to their aunt.
    â€œThis is a Fabergé egg that my father gave me on my tenth birthday,” Great-Aunt Maisie