“Oh, I know, miss. My old dad used to say he’d pay someone a thousand quid to take me off his hands if he had the money.”

“And for the millionth time, Queenie, let us please try to get one thing straight. I am Lady Georgiana Rannoch and so I am not a miss. I am a lady. So the way you address me is ‘my lady,’ not ‘miss.’ Can’t you please try to get it right?”

“I do try, miss—Lor’ love a duck, there I go again, don’t I? My old dad used to say I must be twins because one person couldn’t be so daft. I do try . . . me lady . . . but it just sort of slips out. I mean, you look like a miss, don’t you? You don’t have a crown on your head or a snooty expression or nothing. Not like her downstairs, who looks at me like I was something the cat brought in.”

“Queenie, that’s enough. Go and make sure my bath isn’t overflowing, then come back and lay out something suitable for dinner—a dinner dress, Queenie. Not a tweed skirt. Not my ski sweater. The green velvet will do.”

“Uh—sorry, miss, but I didn’t quite manage to get the little stain out of the skirt. Remember you dropped a bit of gravy on it and you asked me to get it out?”

“That’s all right. I don’t suppose it matters if there’s a speck or two left.”

Queenie wrinkled her little button of a nose. “It’s a little bit more than a speck, I think you’ll find.”

With great foreboding I opened the wardrobe. On one side of the green velvet skirt there was a circle about six inches in diameter where the velvet had been rubbed completely clean of its nap. It looked like a Labrador we’d had once who developed a skin complaint and had to be shaved in places.

“Queenie!” I let out a sigh of exasperation. “What have you done this time?”

“I just gave it a bit of a scrub, with your nailbrush, you know. That gravy was stuck on like cement.”

“The gravy was a speck, Queenie. You have managed to turn one speck into a major disaster. If you didn’t know how to clean velvet you should have asked one of the servants.”

“They don’t like me, miss. They think I’m dead common.”

“Go and attend to my bath,” I snapped. “And I’ll have to see if I have any dresses that you haven’t managed to ruin yet.”

She had never heard me speak to her as severely. Her eyes opened wide and to my horror brimmed over with tears. “I’m sorry, me lady, I really am. I know I’m clumsy. I know I’m hopeless, but I do try.”