Garden. What was his name? Oh yes: Archibald Craven."
"Oh my, no, not one bit like that ill-tempered scoundrel of an uncle. I am simply a well-to-do widower who happened to find a baby on my doorstep."
"We are both wonderfully old-fashioned, aren't we? Hello, Baby Ruth!" Nanny turned back to the baby and said in a sweet, high-pitched voice, "Aren't you fortunate to have found—" She hesitated. "What does she call you?" she asked the man.
"She doesn't speak yet. But I've been a bit worried about the question of what she will call me. I do like the sound of Papa," he said, and then paused and dabbed his eyes with his handkerchief. "But—"
"Brings back sad memories?" Nanny asked sympathetically.
"Indeed."
"Well, there is time. Children?" She turned to the four Willoughbys. "This is Baby Ruth."
They nodded awkwardly.
"Give her a gingersnap," she directed them. "They're not too spicy, are they, Commander? An infant this age shouldn't have spicy food."
"No," he said, "they're quite bland. She likes them. But thank you for alerting me to that. I am new to this and sometimes it is hard to know what is proper. I've been thinking, actually, about looking for a nanny. I don't suppose..." He gave her a questioning look.
"She's ours, " said Barnaby A, in an outraged tone. "And we're orphans, or at least almost orphans, so we need her!"
"We must go now," said his twin. "It's almost time for dinner."
"We haven't even had lunch yet, B," Nanny pointed out.
"I meant the cat's dinner. It's almost time for our cat's dinner."
The children moved toward the porch steps. "Well," said Nanny to the commander, "it was lovely to meet you, but the children seem eager to move on. Perhaps our paths will cross again. Goodbye to you, Commander Melanoff.
"And bye-bye to you as well, Baby Ruth," she said to the infant, who waved back with a chubby hand.
"Wait! I don't know your names," Commander Melanoff said suddenly, just as Nanny was latching the gate behind her. The children were halfway down the street.
"I'm just Nanny," she called back. "The children are Tim, A, B, and Jane."
"A and B? How odd."
"They're twins," Nanny explained.
"I see," he replied, though he didn't.
"They are all Willoughbys."
He nodded. "Goodbye, then," he called. He turned to the playpen and to Ruth because it was time to take her inside for her afternoon nap. But he had a puzzled look on his face. Willoughby, he thought. There was something vaguely familiar about the name.
15. A Regrettable Transaction
"Uh—oh," Barnaby A said as they approached their own house at the end of their outing. "What's that on the sign?"
They had all become very accustomed to the FOR SALE CHEAP sign that was still tacked to their window box and to the tacked-on addition that announced the reduction of the price. And they were so accustomed to scurrying into their disguises and poses at the approach of prospective buyers that Jane could become a lamp in very few seconds and Tim could burrow under his fur rug in no time at all. Nanny took a little longer to transform herself into a statue of Aphrodite because, of course, she had to shed her clothes and powder herself and wrap herself in a sheet—all a little time consuming. But it was routine by now. The real estate agent would call to announce a showing of the house, and all of them would automatically move into their places, waiting for the sound of her key in the front-door lock.
Usually the showings were very short. Sometimes the prospective buyers never even reached the upstairs. That was always a bit of a disappointment to Nanny, and she was thinking of moving her statue's position perhaps to the parlor, where people would have a better view of Aphrodite.
" Curses! " Tim said in horror as he ran forward and read aloud the further addition to the sign. "Look at this! How could this have happened? We've been sold!"
"Oh, no!" Barnaby B groaned. "We should never have gone for a walk!"
"Terrible things always happen when
"Oh my, no, not one bit like that ill-tempered scoundrel of an uncle. I am simply a well-to-do widower who happened to find a baby on my doorstep."
"We are both wonderfully old-fashioned, aren't we? Hello, Baby Ruth!" Nanny turned back to the baby and said in a sweet, high-pitched voice, "Aren't you fortunate to have found—" She hesitated. "What does she call you?" she asked the man.
"She doesn't speak yet. But I've been a bit worried about the question of what she will call me. I do like the sound of Papa," he said, and then paused and dabbed his eyes with his handkerchief. "But—"
"Brings back sad memories?" Nanny asked sympathetically.
"Indeed."
"Well, there is time. Children?" She turned to the four Willoughbys. "This is Baby Ruth."
They nodded awkwardly.
"Give her a gingersnap," she directed them. "They're not too spicy, are they, Commander? An infant this age shouldn't have spicy food."
"No," he said, "they're quite bland. She likes them. But thank you for alerting me to that. I am new to this and sometimes it is hard to know what is proper. I've been thinking, actually, about looking for a nanny. I don't suppose..." He gave her a questioning look.
"She's ours, " said Barnaby A, in an outraged tone. "And we're orphans, or at least almost orphans, so we need her!"
"We must go now," said his twin. "It's almost time for dinner."
"We haven't even had lunch yet, B," Nanny pointed out.
"I meant the cat's dinner. It's almost time for our cat's dinner."
The children moved toward the porch steps. "Well," said Nanny to the commander, "it was lovely to meet you, but the children seem eager to move on. Perhaps our paths will cross again. Goodbye to you, Commander Melanoff.
"And bye-bye to you as well, Baby Ruth," she said to the infant, who waved back with a chubby hand.
"Wait! I don't know your names," Commander Melanoff said suddenly, just as Nanny was latching the gate behind her. The children were halfway down the street.
"I'm just Nanny," she called back. "The children are Tim, A, B, and Jane."
"A and B? How odd."
"They're twins," Nanny explained.
"I see," he replied, though he didn't.
"They are all Willoughbys."
He nodded. "Goodbye, then," he called. He turned to the playpen and to Ruth because it was time to take her inside for her afternoon nap. But he had a puzzled look on his face. Willoughby, he thought. There was something vaguely familiar about the name.
15. A Regrettable Transaction
"Uh—oh," Barnaby A said as they approached their own house at the end of their outing. "What's that on the sign?"
They had all become very accustomed to the FOR SALE CHEAP sign that was still tacked to their window box and to the tacked-on addition that announced the reduction of the price. And they were so accustomed to scurrying into their disguises and poses at the approach of prospective buyers that Jane could become a lamp in very few seconds and Tim could burrow under his fur rug in no time at all. Nanny took a little longer to transform herself into a statue of Aphrodite because, of course, she had to shed her clothes and powder herself and wrap herself in a sheet—all a little time consuming. But it was routine by now. The real estate agent would call to announce a showing of the house, and all of them would automatically move into their places, waiting for the sound of her key in the front-door lock.
Usually the showings were very short. Sometimes the prospective buyers never even reached the upstairs. That was always a bit of a disappointment to Nanny, and she was thinking of moving her statue's position perhaps to the parlor, where people would have a better view of Aphrodite.
" Curses! " Tim said in horror as he ran forward and read aloud the further addition to the sign. "Look at this! How could this have happened? We've been sold!"
"Oh, no!" Barnaby B groaned. "We should never have gone for a walk!"
"Terrible things always happen when
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