Under the Wide and Starry Sky by Nancy Horan

solidity. These were homes occupied by judges and lawyers and other stewards of Edinburgh, and their basements were quarters for the servants, not dungeons. Lately, though, when Louis came back to the house where he had grown up, he felt a prisoner’s panic upon crossing the threshold. He had endured miserable inquisitions in recent times—usually at the dining table and at his father’s hands. Now it was his wretched lot to be coming home with his hat in hand, for he was nearly out of money.
    He closed the big front door gently, stepped quietly through a second set of glass doors, and walked into the empty dining room, where coals glowed in the grate. He stirred the fire with a poker, hoping for a few moments of solitude before his mother appeared and commenced one of her pleasant interviews, a mixture of good-humored small talk and family gossip, followed by delicate, abstract forays into his personal life (“How does a handsome young man like you keep the girls at arm’s length?”) and his cheerful, edited confidences. The real interrogation would begin later, when his father returned home from work, and all niceties would fall away. Louis sank into the big chair by the fire and closed his eyes. Within a minute or two, he heard the distinctive shuffle of the butler’s shoes.
    â€œGood afternoon, Mr. Stevenson,” the man said.
    â€œJohn,” Louis said, “how are you?”
    â€œVery well, sir. Your parents are not at home just now. They went out to Swanston. But Miss Cunningham is here. I’ll get her.”
    Soon a different but familiar step clicked on the staircase. Louis jumped up and went into
    the foyer. Against the oval skylight on the third floor, he saw the sprightly figure of his childhood nurse—a tiny gray-haired woman in a neat brown dress, flying down the winding stone steps, her arms open.
    â€œMaster Lou?” she called out. “Is it really you?”
    â€œCummy!” he shouted. “I had no idea you would be here.” He lifted her in an embrace before she got to the bottom step.
    â€œYour mother asked me to drop by in case you arrived while they were in Swanston. They went out yesterday and will be back by supper tonight. They weren’t sure what time you were coming. I was just up in your room, fluffin’ the pillows.”
    â€œAlison Cunningham, I am past the need of fluffing.”
    â€œEvery man likes a little pampering once in a while. Look at you,”she said, smoothing his lapels. “Did you add more height in the past two months?”
    â€œI stopped growing some years ago, my friend.”
    â€œI must be getting shorter, then. I have an old lady’s bones. Sit down with me, Lou, and tell me all about your trip. Are you hungry? I asked Mildred to have tea ready in case you got here in time. I haven’t seen you since you had a wig and robe on, the day you were called to the bar.”
    Louis winced. “Ah, Cummy, did you have to remind me of that? I have blissfully blotted it out of my mind for six weeks. Well, mostly.”
    They settled at the dining room table where they had spent so many hours of his boyhood, coloring and printing out his earliest stories. Soon platters were coming up the dumbwaiter from Mildred in the kitchen below, and Nora, a sweet-tempered servant who’d been with them forever was trundling trays of food to the sideboard. Cucumber and egg sandwiches, smoked salmon, and toasted cheese on bread—”Orkney cheddar, Master Lou, yer fauvrit,” Nora confided. She sliced the fruitcake and spread clotted cream over a piece for him. “Juist as ye like it.”
    â€œThank you, Nora. You spoil me.” They all spoiled him, he knew. It gave them something to do in this quiet household.
    â€œI’ve had my tea. But you know how much I like to watch you eat,” Cummy said. “How was the canoing on the Scheldt?”
    â€œIt was an ordinary-sized adventure,