Let it be known
All the proud hours I hold
Are around you
12th October, 1894 — Darrow house, Irvingly

It was the nanny’s night off, and Caroline was upstairs with little Edmund, putting him to bed – Evander did not feel nearly so anxious about this as he had with Lillian (whether because he felt they were better prepared for the second baby, or because Caroline seemed to have an easier time with him than she had with their first, he couldn’t say).

So he was still downstairs, tired but in a calm indulgent state – a little meditation at the piano had never yet failed to soften him. Lillian was still awake and with him, so he rifled through his pages of sheet music, making his way through some lullabies by Brahms and Mendelssohn. Halfway through a piece, Lily tired of her building blocks and wandered over. Settling further back on the stool, Evander scooped her up onto his knees.

“Now then, Lily,” he murmured, letting her slam down on some of the keys. “That’s a C,” he told her, when she struck it; and for a futile task, trying to teach a toddler, Evander had to admit he quite enjoyed the attempt. She was a curious thing; he was interested by the notes that amused her, and the unexpected attention span she had for this play, the letter-sounds she would repeat. Arms around her, he snuck in a little tune to amuse her – Lavender’s Blue, Dilly Dilly, first – and sang along quietly, never mind her interruptions of random keys and noises – until he caught Caroline in the hallway, having descended the stairs, and realised Edmund must be asleep now. He hushed Lily and curled her hands into his to quiet their noise with an apologetic look. “Sorry.”

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