Free Fragrant Flower by Barbara Cartland

he paused.
    “By the way, how are the children?”
    As he spoke he noticed for the first time how empty the passages were.
    On other visits he had found children running about, quarrelling with each other or shrieking at the tops of their voices with a shrillness that echoed above the noise of the engines and the splash of the waves.
    “The baby’s all right, my Lord,” the stewardess answered, “and the other two are with the kind lady that has been keeping them amused for the last two days. She seems like an angel of light to us, I can tell you!”
    “What kind lady?” Lord Sheldon asked.
    “I don’t know her name,” the stewardess replied, “but she’s a First Class passenger who offered to take the children off our hands for several hours a day. It’s been a blessing. Little devils they’ve been, every one of them, while their parents were ill, making a mess everywhere, and so noisy one could hardly hear oneself think!”
    “Where are they now?” Lord Sheldon asked with some curiosity.
    “In the Second Class Writing Room,” the stewardess replied. “That’s dead against regulations, my Lord, but who’d want to write a letter in this weather?”
    “Who indeed?” Lord Sheldon answered.
    There was a scream of “Stewardess!” from one of the cabins and the stewardess hurried towards the door.
    “Here we go again!” she ejaculated, and with the basin in her hand she disappeared through an adjacent door. Climbing back to the Second Class deck, Lord Sheldon hesitated for a moment as if he wondered which way he should go. Then he moved towards where he knew the Writing Room would be situated.
    The Second Class deck had fewer recreational facilities than the First Class.
    In the Second Class Saloon the passengers sat at long, communal tables with their chairs ‘cheek by jowl’ to avoid using too much room.
    The Saloon was pleasantly furnished, but with very little space between the sofas and chairs, and beyond it was a small Writing Room which was seldom used except by those who wanted to write or play cards without being interrupted by the chatter of voices.
    Lord Sheldon crossed the Saloon towards it, and as his hand went out towards the door he heard a voice saying with pretended gruffness,
    “Who’s been sleeping in my bed?”
    The voice rose a little.
    “And the Mother Bear said, ‘Who’s been sleeping in my bed?’”
    There was a pause and then a very high voice went on,
    “And the Baby Bear said, ‘Who’s been sleeping in my bed – and there she is!’”
    There were shrieks of childish delight before the narrator finished,
    “Then Goldilocks jumped up and ran down the stairs and back to the safety of her mother’s arms as quickly as she could!”
    There was a babble of excitement and very gently Lord Sheldon opened the door a crack so that he could look into the room.
    Seated on the floor with a small Chinese child in her arms was Azalea. The child was asleep, his dark eyelashes like half-moons on his little round face.
    Seated all around her, cross-legged or half-lying were fifteen or sixteen other children.
    They all seemed to be very young and many of them were poorly dressed, but they were all looking happy and even though she had finished the story they made no effort to move.
    “What would you like to do now?” Lord Sheldon heard Azalea ask in her soft voice.
    “Sing the clap-hands song!” a small boy suggested.
    “Very well,” Azalea said. “We will sing the song where you clap your hands, but as Jam Kin is asleep I cannot show you where to clap, so I will raise one hand – do you understand?”
    There was a murmur of “Yes” and a nodding of small heads.
    “Very well,” Azalea said, “when I raise my hand – clap!”
    Lord Sheldon smiled as he saw how ready the children were to do what she suggested.
    Very quietly he closed the door, as he had opened it. The last thing he wanted to do was to disturb either Azalea or the children, but as he turned away he stopped