No one else ever used it. She was making a last-minute check of the guest list for the engagement dinner that evening, and contemplating the placement of everyone at the two dinner tables. Nodding her head, deciding that it could not be improved on, she sat back in the chair, sighing to herself, finally relaxing. It had been an extremely busy day, and she was relieved she had asked her father to cancel afternoon tea. The staff were overburdened as it was, and Hanson was all for it. Fortunately, her father had understood. At the sound of footsteps on the terra-cotta-tiled floor, she turned around in her chair, and her face lit up when she saw Peggy Swift coming toward her, carrying a tea tray. She was Peggy Lane now, having married Gordon Lane after the war, and was the mother of a little girl who was called Daphne, named for her. “I thought you might be in need of a nice cup of tea, Lady Daphne,” Peggy said, placing the tray on the table next to the sofa. “You haven’t stopped for a minute today, so Hanson tells me.”
