Free Black Hearts in Battersea by Joan Aiken Page A

very least!"
    "They were both very kind to me," Sophie said, laughing. "I was dreadfully sad when the overseer came and took me to Gloober's."

    "I don't wonder, my dear, from what I've heard of the place."
    "If Simon hadn't taken care of me there I don't know how I'd have got on for the first few years. Later it wasn't so bad, when I learned dressmaking, and Mrs. Gloober found I could be useful to her."
    "But you like it better with her Grace?"
    "Oh yes, a thousand times! Her Grace is so kind! Sometimes she seems more like an aunt or a godmother than a mistress! Mercy!" Sophie suddenly cried, jumping up as the solemn notes of the Chelsea Church clock boomed out the hour. "Ten o'clock already! It's time I was getting back to make her Grace's hot posset. She always likes it soon after ten."
    "I'll see you home," Simon said. They bade good-by to the kindly Cobbs, who invited them to come again whenever they had an hour to spare. Halfway down the stairs they were halted by a hoarse shout from above, and turned to see Jem looking through the bedroom doorway, his hair all in spikes and his eyes staring with sleep.
    "Soph ... please..." he mumbled. "Could ... give ... note ... Mr. Buckle?" He thrust a piece of crumpled paper into Sophie's hand.
    "He's half asleep. It's the poppy syrup I gave him," said Mrs. Cobb concernedly, and steered him back to bed.
    "I'll deliver your note!" Sophie called, but Jem was already unconscious again. Sophie tried to straighten out
the paper, which appeared to be a sugar bag. The large sprawling script on it covered both sides:

    MISTER BUKKLE. SUM ONE CUMS FROM U NO
WHERE. JEM.
    "Oh dear," Sophie said, "Now I've read it, but I didn't mean to. In any case I haven't the least notion what it means. I hope Mr. Buckle will understand it."
    "By the way," Simon said, "I had a queer invitation after I saw you last. You remember that odd-spoken old gentleman who was slung up in the top of the tunnel and spoke so sharply to Midwink? When I was on my way back he invited me to go and play chess with him one evening next week. Should I take the invitation seriously or is he a bit cracked? Who is he, anyway?"
    Sophie turned to look at him incredulously.
    "Don't you know?"
    "Of course I don't know." Simon gave her a good-humored pat on the shoulder. "Don't forget I've only just arrived in London. I'm not such an almanac as you, my bright girl. Who is he, then?"
    Sophie burst into a fit of laughter which lasted her as far as the servants' entrance to Battersea Castle. "Why," she gasped, wiping the tears of merriment from her eyes, "he's the Duke of Battersea, that's all! Certainly you must keep the appointment—his feelings would be hurt if you didn't."
    She gave Simon a quick goodnight hug, and he heard her laughing again as she ran down the tunnel and out of sight.

6
    When Simon returned to his lodgings the following evening he saw Miss Dido Twite in her nightgown looking out rather forlornly from the front window into the twilit street. Her face brightened immediately at sight of him and as he entered the house she put her head around her bedroom door.

    "Wotcher, my cully" she greeted him hoarsely but joyfully.
    "Hallo, brat. What's the matter with you?" Simon inquired. She was flushed, and had a long red stocking wound around her throat.
    "I have the quinsy," Dido croaked, "and Ma and Pa and Penny-lope and Aunt Poke and Aunt Tinty and
everybody
has gone off to Theobalds' Fair and I'm
that
put about and blue-deviled. Mean, hateful things they are—I wish they was all dead!" She stamped her bare foot on the floor and her lip quivered. "There was to be a Flaming Lady, too, and a Two-Headed Sheep and Performing Fleas and a G-giant C-carnivorous Crocodile."
    "Here, don't you think you ought to be in bed?" said Simon, anxious to avert an explosion of tears which seemed imminent. "I'm sure if you have the quinsy you shouldn't be running about in your nightgown. Come on, I'll tuck you up."

    "Will you stay and play