Anything Goes

paneling and enormous somber pieces of furniture. Tearing away the vines that entirely covered the windows here would help. But not much. The thing Robert would like was the bathtub, which was approximately the size of Vermont.
    “I don’t like it either,“ Lily admitted, “but maybe Robert will. Is Mrs. Prinney here now? I need to introduce myself to her.”
    Robert and Mr. Prinney were inspecting the work that was going on outside. “My sister and I are awfully grateful that you’ve arranged for all this to be done,“ Robert said.
    “Just doing my duty as executor and trustee, Mr. Brewster. It’s good to see the old place coming back so nicely. It’s a fine house.”
    Robert looked at the house. There was some very good ornamental brickwork emerging. “There’s just one thing I’d like to ask, old chap, and I mean no offense,“ Robert said with his usual friendly smile. “My sister and I understand that you have the final word on the money that’s spent on the house, but where do we stand?“
    “I’m not sure I take your meaning,“ Mr. Prinney said, looking wary. Maybe this young man wasn’t as frivolous and friendly as he’d originally thought, he mused.
    “Well, decisions about what’s to be done and whatnot. Suppose you want to pay someone to take out a big tree and we like the big tree, for example? Or we all agree that a bedroom needs new paint—who decides on the color?“
    “You’re not pleased with the work I’ve hired out?“ Mr. Prinney looked wounded.
    “Pleased? Why, we’re thrilled to death, but don’t quite understand the rules and—“ He added with all the false sincerity he could muster, “We don’t want to break them or cause you distress.“
    “Yes, yes. I can see this might make problems,“ Mr. Prinney said, no longer offended. “The will, of course, doesn’t specify this sort of detail. I feel it’s a great mistake to try to cover every possible contingency in a legal document and told your great-uncle so. As soon as you list fifty things that might happen, the fifty-first will happen. Common sense and decency are the key.“
    “Of course they are!“ Robert agreed enthusiastically, hoping they could get it thrashed out quickly and not have to have any more serious discussions. It was so difficult maintaining a sober, businesslike demeanor around a little elderly man in jodhpurs who sported a funny moustache. Robert could hardly keep himself from flinging himself on the newly shorn lawn and laughing hysterically.
    Mr. Prinney, hands behind his back, deep in lawyerly thought, took a few steps to the left, a few to the right and finally said, “Let me think about this for a bit.”
    Rats! Robert thought.
    “Would you like to be shown around?”
    Robert sensed this was an order, disguised as an offer. Ticks, gnats, little furry things, big furry things with fangs, thorny things and spiders were in the forefront of his mind as he smiled charmingly and said, “I’d love to.”
     
    Mrs. Prinney wasn’t much taller than her husband, but was much bigger. Her tightly corseted bosom was an awesome structure and her upper arms were like hams. In contrast, she had lovely hands, great kind baby-blue eyes and a porcelain-doll complexion, which was quite pink and dewy from her exertions.
    “Mrs. Prinney? I’m Lily Brewster.”
    Mrs. Prinney had removed all traces of the hobos’ residency and now laid down a strange implement with which she had been cleaning a big oak table. Wiping her elegant hands on her apron first, she shook Lily’s hand in a firm, forthright manner. “Glad to see you, Miss Brewster. Right awful kitchen, eh?“
    “Terrible,“ Lily said. “And you must call me Lily.“
    “Miss Flora and Mr. Horatio had no cause to ever come in here, but if this is going to be my home and I’m going to do the cooking, it’s going to have a lot done to it. I thought about having that outside wall knocked farther out and a nice big window put in so it’s a more sociable place.”
    Lily was suddenly angry and knew it was entirely unjustified. Mrs. Prinney was right to feel that way. The Prinneys had moved in. It was her home now, too. And since Mrs. Prinney was willing and prepared to do the cooking, Lily had no right whatsoever to determine what was done to the kitchen. She should be grateful. Instead, she was as suddenly, irrationally furious as a child who’d missed her nap. She’d been looking forward to a more independent life and suddenly