one!’ Jack peered between her fingers.
‘Have you got one?’ Celia was jumping up and down with excitement.
‘It’s a small one,’ said Jack. ‘Do you know it can change its colour to blend in with its surroundings?’
‘Will it go pink then, to match my skin?’ she asked.
‘No, it takes two hours to change. It might go a yellow colour if you give it time. You should carry it on a bed of leaves, not on your skin. You might harm it.’ He bent down and
started looking about for suitable foliage.
Bridie peered gingerly into Kitty’s hand. ‘Is it cold and slimy?’ she asked.
‘It feels soft and damp,’ Kitty replied happily. Jack helped her arrange the frog onto the leaves. ‘You have to help me up, Jack. I can’t use my hands.’
Jack laughed and swept Kitty into his arms. ‘You’re like a sack of potatoes, you are,’ he said, striding back up the bank. Bridie looked on enviously. She wished Jack would
carry
her
up the bank too. But she scrambled out by herself and watched Kitty showing the frog to Celia. As she observed the two cousins with their heads together, one red and one blonde,
but both so similar in attire and language, she felt a swell of pride that at least Jack was from
her
world and not theirs.
They
were united by a common culture, whereas Kitty and
Celia were so very different, being English and aristocratic. Jack might be fond of Kitty, but he would never be allowed to think of her as his equal
.
‘Bridie, will you find us something to put it in?’ Kitty asked when they got back to the castle, trying not to look guilty as one of the footmen walked past. She knew they were
expected for lunch and their sisters and mothers would probably be in the drawing room already with Adeline, and Celia’s grandmother Augusta.
Bridie disappeared, returning a moment later with the box of Fry’s assorted chocolates that Beatrice had bought in Harrods and which the family had polished off the night before.
‘Where are you going to put it?’ she asked.
‘I don’t know,’ said Kitty, arranging the frog on its bed of leaves inside. ‘I’ll think about that when we’re up there.’
‘Leona and Vivien will die of fright,’ said Celia excitedly. ‘I can’t wait to see their faces.’
‘I can’t wait to see Victoria’s and Elspeth’s. And Mama’s. Let’s not forget Mama.’ Kitty giggled. ‘She hates creepy-crawlies more than anyone.
Let’s catch a mouse next time and put it in her bed!’
Kitty and Celia washed their hands and faces and tidied their hair as best they could before sneaking up the servants’ staircase and through the green baize door into the hall. Kitty put
the chocolate box on the table behind a large display of lilies. ‘It’ll be safe there for a while,’ she said confidently, taking Celia’s hand.
They walked innocently into the drawing room where the women sat chatting over glasses of sherry on sofas and armchairs, the girls huddled in the corner talking quietly among themselves, while
the men stood smoking beside the fireplace.
‘Ah, here are the little devils,’ said Hubert, watching with pride as his granddaughter walked in with the hem of her dress smeared with mud and her untameable red hair coming away
from the ribbons that swept it off her face. ‘What have you two been up to?’
Kitty stood before him. ‘Nothing, Grandpa. We’ve been in the greenhouse,’ she replied.
‘Plotting, no doubt,’ added Cousin Digby with a chuckle. Maud glanced over from her seat on the sofa and a shadow of irritation darkened her face as she noticed Kitty’s dirty
dress, but before she could say a word Adeline reached out her hand.
‘Kitty my dear. Come over here and tell me what you’ve been doing all morning. You look like you’ve been digging a hole in the garden.’ Kitty walked up to her
grandmother, glancing down at her dirty shoes, aware of her mother’s disapproval.
‘Miss Grieve has been neglecting her duty,’ said Maud
‘Have you got one?’ Celia was jumping up and down with excitement.
‘It’s a small one,’ said Jack. ‘Do you know it can change its colour to blend in with its surroundings?’
‘Will it go pink then, to match my skin?’ she asked.
‘No, it takes two hours to change. It might go a yellow colour if you give it time. You should carry it on a bed of leaves, not on your skin. You might harm it.’ He bent down and
started looking about for suitable foliage.
Bridie peered gingerly into Kitty’s hand. ‘Is it cold and slimy?’ she asked.
‘It feels soft and damp,’ Kitty replied happily. Jack helped her arrange the frog onto the leaves. ‘You have to help me up, Jack. I can’t use my hands.’
Jack laughed and swept Kitty into his arms. ‘You’re like a sack of potatoes, you are,’ he said, striding back up the bank. Bridie looked on enviously. She wished Jack would
carry
her
up the bank too. But she scrambled out by herself and watched Kitty showing the frog to Celia. As she observed the two cousins with their heads together, one red and one blonde,
but both so similar in attire and language, she felt a swell of pride that at least Jack was from
her
world and not theirs.
They
were united by a common culture, whereas Kitty and
Celia were so very different, being English and aristocratic. Jack might be fond of Kitty, but he would never be allowed to think of her as his equal
.
‘Bridie, will you find us something to put it in?’ Kitty asked when they got back to the castle, trying not to look guilty as one of the footmen walked past. She knew they were
expected for lunch and their sisters and mothers would probably be in the drawing room already with Adeline, and Celia’s grandmother Augusta.
Bridie disappeared, returning a moment later with the box of Fry’s assorted chocolates that Beatrice had bought in Harrods and which the family had polished off the night before.
‘Where are you going to put it?’ she asked.
‘I don’t know,’ said Kitty, arranging the frog on its bed of leaves inside. ‘I’ll think about that when we’re up there.’
‘Leona and Vivien will die of fright,’ said Celia excitedly. ‘I can’t wait to see their faces.’
‘I can’t wait to see Victoria’s and Elspeth’s. And Mama’s. Let’s not forget Mama.’ Kitty giggled. ‘She hates creepy-crawlies more than anyone.
Let’s catch a mouse next time and put it in her bed!’
Kitty and Celia washed their hands and faces and tidied their hair as best they could before sneaking up the servants’ staircase and through the green baize door into the hall. Kitty put
the chocolate box on the table behind a large display of lilies. ‘It’ll be safe there for a while,’ she said confidently, taking Celia’s hand.
They walked innocently into the drawing room where the women sat chatting over glasses of sherry on sofas and armchairs, the girls huddled in the corner talking quietly among themselves, while
the men stood smoking beside the fireplace.
‘Ah, here are the little devils,’ said Hubert, watching with pride as his granddaughter walked in with the hem of her dress smeared with mud and her untameable red hair coming away
from the ribbons that swept it off her face. ‘What have you two been up to?’
Kitty stood before him. ‘Nothing, Grandpa. We’ve been in the greenhouse,’ she replied.
‘Plotting, no doubt,’ added Cousin Digby with a chuckle. Maud glanced over from her seat on the sofa and a shadow of irritation darkened her face as she noticed Kitty’s dirty
dress, but before she could say a word Adeline reached out her hand.
‘Kitty my dear. Come over here and tell me what you’ve been doing all morning. You look like you’ve been digging a hole in the garden.’ Kitty walked up to her
grandmother, glancing down at her dirty shoes, aware of her mother’s disapproval.
‘Miss Grieve has been neglecting her duty,’ said Maud
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