At breakfast, there were five diners—Iolanthe, Mrs. Colbshallow, and all three of the household children.  Starr served kippers, fried eggs, deviled kidneys, and peaches.  Deviled kidneys were a favorite of young Augustus, but Iolana and Terra wanted nothing more than porridge—porridge with milk from real, live, Birmisian cows.

“Did this come from Egeria?” questioned Iolanthe.

“Yes,” replied Mrs. Colbshallow.  “She sent Chunny over with a gallon.”

“Then we must find a way to pay her back.  Let’s invite the Korlanns for dinner next week.”

Mrs. Colbshallow raised her eyebrows.

“What?” demanded Iolanthe.  “Yes, Zeah’s a former servant.  So are you.  My former dressing maid is now my sister-in-law for all that.  I regularly eat with a lizzie at the table, come to that.”

“It’s not that,” replied Mrs. Colbshallow.  “I thought you had some antipathy for the wife.”

“Of course not.  I do recall her having dined with us in the past, and I know Zeah has.”

“Yes,” replied Mrs. Colbshallow.  “But it was months ago in the case of the latter and years ago in the case of the former.”

Iolanthe smiled crookedly.  “It’s as you say.  She is the children’s grandmother.”

“Do you want to play jacks with us after breakfast, Auntie Iolanthe?” asked Terra in her peculiar little voice.

“You have your tutor, don’t you?”

“No Mother.  Master Brown is gone with Father to Tsahloose,” said Iolana.  “We have independent study until he returns.”

“Oh yes, I had forgotten.  In answer to your query Terra, I have to be at my office.  Perhaps Cissy will play with you—or your mother.  Where is your mother?”

“She’s not feeling well again today,” said Augie.

Iolanthe wiped her mouth with her napkin, and then placed it on her plate.  Before she could push the chair back on her own, Garrah was pulling it out for her.  She stomped to the doorway with the foyer and turned back around to look at her daughter.

“Independent study still means study.”

“Don’t worry Mother.  I plan to study.”

“I have no doubt of that.  Make sure that your cousins do too.”

“Blinking heck!” said Augie.

“You watch your mouth young man,” said Mrs. Colbshallow.  “I will have Garrah wash it out with soap.”

Iolanthe was already halfway up the stairs.  When she reached the top, she turned once again toward Yuah’s door.  When she knocked, she received the same reply that she had the previous day.  She balled up her fist and pounded.  There was still no answer.  Retracing her steps back a few feet, she opened the tiny drawer in the occasional table against the wall between the door to Yuah’s room and the door to the nursery.  The drawer was empty but for a large brass key.  Taking the key, she went back and stuck it in the keyhole just above the doorknob, turned it, and then pushed the door open.

Yuah’s bedroom was probably the most luxurious in the house.  Terrence had denied her nothing while he was alive, though even Iolanthe admitted in her own thoughts that he could have shown the girl more affection.  The wallpaper, with its intricate pattern of pink roses between golden bars, was difficult to see.  The color of the carpet was indistinguishable.  The pink lace curtains on both the windows had been covered over with heavy blankets and very little light entered the room.  Yuah was lying on the bed, eyes half closed.  For a moment, Iolanthe thought she was dead, but then saw her breathing.

“Yuah?”

Her sister-in-law didn’t move.  Iolanthe crossed to the window and pulled one of the heavy blankets away, allowing a bright beam of morning light to enter.  It fell directly across Yuah’s face, but she didn’t react.

“Yuah!”

On the intricately wrought stand in the corner was the antique wash basin.  Though it had not been used, the pitcher was still filled with cool clear water from the night before.  Iolanthe grabbed the pitcher by the handle and dumped it over Yuah’s head.

“Ack!  Bloody hell!” sputtered Yuah, and then jumped to her feet.  “You stupid cow!  What do you think you’re doing?”

“Are you bladdered, Yuah?”

“No.  I just don’t feel well.  Now get out.”

“You are bladdered.  You have yesterday’s dress on, your eyes are bloodshot, and you smell like you’ve peed yourself.  You’re ass over tit and it’s not even nine o’clock!”

With the suddenness of a viper strike, Yuah’s arm lashed out, her hand slapping Iolanthe solidly across the face, with a smack that could be heard all over the upper floor of the house.  A tiny fraction of a second had passed before Iolanthe’s left hand returned the favor, leaving its bright red impression across Yuah’s pale cheek.  Yuah balled up her fist and hit, stepping into the punch like a prize fighter.  She struck her sister-in-law in the right eye.  Iolanthe fell back down onto her bustle and rolled backwards, smacking both her head and the pitcher in her right hand onto the floor.  The antique porcelain exploded into a mass of white and cornflower blue pieces.