Author's note: This is just a short blurb from a story I've started that may turn into a short novel. Since I know it won't be made clear in this blurb I think I should just mention that this is set in 1938, Ireland and England.
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The air inside the old manor was heavy with tension as the older 4 children sat obediently, staring after their grandfather as he led the guest up to the nursery on the second floor. This guest, Ms. Pricilla Travis, looked back at them only to quickly look back ahead. Such looks from the eyes of children could kill the soul. The nursery was a quaint little room. The afternoon light filtered through the gauze curtains that covered the window by which a rocking chair sat. On each side of the room sat a crib, and inside of each, peering through the bars at the world beyond, was a little baby.
“Well, here are the youngest of the bunch. Perhaps they may be more to your liking?” said the grandfather of the children. Pricilla gave a small nod and looked carefully from one crib to the other. From each, a set of curious dark eyes stared up at her.
“Twins, are they? What are their names?” she asked as she surveyed each child thoughtfully.
“Indeed, they’re twins. The one over there,” he said pointing to the crib to the left of the window, “is Anthony. And the other is Caleb.” The grandfather replied.
“Caleb….What a nice name,” she murmured to herself. “They both seem quite nice,” casting a glance at the boys’ grandfather; she picked the babe called Caleb up into her arms.
“They’ll be fine young lads someday. Just don’t have the room for ‘em around here anymore. Its trouble enough keepin’ up with the older ones without these little ones to fuss with,” Mr. Thorne watched as his guest, still holding the one babe in her arms, peered into the crib of the other. “You certain you can only take one? They’re both wee little things. Why not take the two?” Pricilla looked from the two infants to the old man and back; pondering.
“Quite certain,” she assured, “I’m hardly sure I’m aware of what I’m getting myself into with one,” This last part was more to herself than Mr. Thorne. “May I take a day to think it over?”
“I don’t see why not. Take all the time you need ma’am.”
“Thank you,” She placed Caleb back in his own crib and quickly left the nursery. Promising to return within the week she left the house, her mind no closer to being made up than when she first arrived.
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