"And I have been thinking," she added rather nervously, "surely
we could squeeze Charlotte in here next week, and give her a nice
holiday while plumbers at Tunbridge Wells finish. I have not
seen poor Charlotte for so long."
It was more than her nerves could stand. And she could not
protest violently after her mother's goodness to her upstairs.
"Mother, no!" she pleaded. "It's impossible. We can't have
Charlotte on the top of the other things; we're squeezed to death
as it is. Freddy's got a friend coming Tuesday, there's Cecil,
and you've promised to take in Minnie Beebe because of the
diphtheria scare. It simply can't be done."
"Nonsense! It can."
"If Minnie sleeps in the bath. Not otherwise."
"Minnie can sleep with you."
"I won't have her."
"Then, if you're so selfish, Mr. Floyd must share a room with
Freddy."
"Miss Bartlett, Miss Bartlett, Miss Bartlett," moaned Cecil,
again laying his hand over his eyes.
"It's impossible," repeated Lucy. "I don't want to make
difficulties, but it really isn't fair on the maids to fill up
the house so.
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