She laughed. “I am Dorothy, but I’m usually known as Dodo. And when my brother telephoned me with your terrible news I told my husband that you had to come to us without delay.”

“I hope he didn’t object,” I said warily.

“My husband adores me, Mrs. Sullivan. And do let me call you by your first name—I try to dispense with too much formality under my own roof, although my husband, whose upbringing in lofty circles was rather more formal than mine, sometimes frowns upon the liberties I take.”

I smiled at her. “You may certainly call me Molly,” I said. “I have a group of friends who abhor formality so the use of first names isn’t at all strange to me.”

“Splendid.” She beamed at me. “But don’t let’s stand here a second longer. We should get the little one settled in his nursery and then we can have a cup of coffee in peace.” She patted Liam’s cheek. “What an adorable child. I know he’s going to be great friends with my little Cuddles.”

“My husband said you had a baby. Boy or girl?”

“A little boy. Almost a year old now. Officially he’s named Alfred Homer Walton Phillips after his father, but who can call a baby those awful names? So he’s Cuddles to me, although Alfred disapproves of baby talk. Come upstairs and I’ll introduce you.”

She led me up a broad stair, to a luxuriously appointed landing and then up a second, less grand stair, chatting all the way, and then opened a door at the front of the house. “Here we are, Nanny,” she called. “Here’s your new charge.”

A plump elderly nurse appeared from a back room.

“Nanny used to look after Alfred when he was a baby,” Dodo said. “And now she’s come out of retirement to take care of little Cuddles. Alfred wouldn’t hear of another nursemaid raising his son.”

“Master Alfred is currently taking his morning nap,” Nanny said, putting a warning finger to her lips that we were talking too loudly. “And it looks to me as if this young man is ready for sleep as well.”

She took Liam from me and he didn’t protest, looking back at me wide-eyed.

“I will come up to nurse him about noon,” I said.

“Good heavens,” Dodo exclaimed. “He is not on a bottle? Don’t you find that terribly inconvenient?”

I felt them both staring at me as if I was some creature straight from the jungle, and blushed. “I don’t think I keep to your kind of social schedule,” I said. I turned back to the nursemaid. “I’m sorry about the state of his clothing. We were both left with nothing after the fire. So if he could possibly borrow some items from little Alfred, until I can shop for new ones, I’d much appreciate it.”