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a brother who is a thief.”
    Mabel thought of something he would care about.
    “Wouldn’t it look very bad if it came out that we’d refused to have them?”
    “How can it come out? The children are in Turkey. I suppose there are orphanages in Turkey.”
    “Not for British children, dear.”
    Cecil looked back at his letter.
    “They are only half British, their mother was a Pole. Why don’t their Polish relations have them?”
    “Perhaps there aren’t any,” said Mabel. “Anyway, I don’t see how you can suggest that. I mean, wouldn’t this Sir William think it was odd?”
    In the end, though very grudgingly, Cecil accepted that for the time being he was beaten. He simply could not cable Sir William to say, “No. I won’t have the children.”
    “We must just hope there is some money,” he said. “Then we can pack the lot off to boarding schools; the papers have been saying his pictures sold well.”
    “Yes, dear, they did,” said Mabel, thankful to be able to agree about one thing at least, though secretly not accepting the boarding schools.
    Then Cecil thought of something new to be cross about.
    “If only we had bought a smaller house with no spare bedrooms, we couldn’t have had the children. That was your fault, Mabel, you would have that kitchen.”
    Mabel was used to being blamed for things she had not done, so it was no surprise to her to hear it was her fault Cecil had bought Dunroamin. Though actually the first she had known of the purchase was when Cecil had said:“I have bought a house.”
    So she changed the subject.
    “What shall we do if this Sir William wants to stay the night?”
    “We can’t have him, thank goodness. In his letter he says there are two boys and a girl. That uses up the two rooms; in any case I have no intention of this Sir William or any other busybody crossing the threshold. If I have to bring up my brother’s children I shall do it in my own way. I shall fly to Istanbul and collect the children. Imagine Sir William writing ‘I will cable time of arrival’! Who does he think he is? Any cabling time of arrival will be done by me.”
    While all this arguing was going on in Dunroamin the children were getting to know Sir William, whom they called S’William, for they had never known a “Sir” and never seen the name written, and the more they got to know him the more they liked him. He was so sensible and unfussy. Without being told he knew they could not eat proper food since the earthquake, so he let them have what they liked. If all Anna wanted was hard boiled eggs and olives in a sandwich that was all she liked so why argue? If Gussie mostly fancied fruit and fizzy lemonade then let him live on them. Black coffee with perhaps an ice cream was not Sir William’s idea of a nourishing meal but if it was Francesco’s that was his business. He only made one food rule.
    “I don’t mind what you kids eat, but it’s not much, so see there’s always some of what you like to hand. After all, what’s to prevent you being hungry in the middle of the night? And,believe me, if all else fails two or three buns at midnight are a splendidly filling meal.”
    After one midnight meal of figs, buns and bars of chocolate Gussie said to Francesco:
    “I think things to eat in bed is a good idea, in fact only eating when you want to is a good idea. I plan to go on doing that when we get to The Uncle.”
    “An uncle, especially a British uncle, eats food at proper times, S’William told me,” replied Francesco.
    “I expect we can make him see our way is simpler,” Gussie said. “After all, he ought to be glad, for it saves cooking and laying tables and all that.”
    Francesco was getting sleepy – buns at night do have that effect.
    “S’William said he expected living with The Uncle would turn out all right, that things often do. So perhaps he’ll understand about food.”
    Sir William, who was seldom surprised by anything, was amazed when the cable arrived. For a