As much as Hope wanted to keep him there, to make his shirt feel soft and comfortable, and his shoes, at least for now, less tight, she knew that the boy was still a boy. Still a child. She couldn't keep him there forever, not if she ever wanted to get through to him. She would have to work with him, personally, on his manners.

"If you make me a promise," she said softly, "you can certainly go off and play. Just promise me that you'll listen and do as Nanny tells you." Perhaps in a few hours, she would dress the boy herself, take him in to the tailor she preferred for ensuring her children were just as immaculate as she was, and then to the shoemaker's. For now, she turned to the maid. "Fetch me one of Theodore's old shirts, if you would?" She never got rid of anything her children had worn, and now she could use one of those old shirts for Percy's comfort.

Moments later, the maid handed Hope a simple blue shirt — too big for Percy to wear in public, but it would certainly be a sight more comfortable. "This will be far less uncomfortable for you, but I need you to wear something, Percy. Please? For your mother?"

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