With Eleanora now nearly six weeks old Melody had at long last settled into a seemingly perfect routine. Mornings were spent either visiting with friends or on a brief walk around the village in the pram, during which Eleanora was usually alert and smiling (smiling!) for, followed by quiet afternoons until Ben came home. The worst part of her day by far was whenever the night nurse arrived, as Melody despised handing over her daughter to another woman. But, it was what was done. Even if her breasts still hadn't adapted to the long stretches of not nursing.

Melody was a bundle of excited nerves as she awaited February's visit. The last time the two saw one another was some months ago during one of the rare 'good' weeks she had in her pregnancy, and even then the visit hadn't been entirely pleasant as Melody was emotional over the state of her marriage. February had been understanding enough, not that Melody divulged many of the details. There were enough rumors swirling about then without someone else knowing about the horrors of Paris and all the aftermath. (Or the near divorce Christmas of last year.) Truthfully, she wasn't sure how to explain the absolute turn of events to her friends. How did one justify going from struggling to remain civil to love in a few weeks' time without sounding insane? Melody liked to believe it was all the time spent during her labors — both false and not — that changed things between them. But, maybe, that time had only uncovered feelings which existed for years.

The housekeeper showed February in anx immediately Melody was on her feet to greet her friend. Taking the basket, Melody returned the kisses and smiled widely. "Your timing is excellent. She fed only a short while ago so she'll be awake for a bit still." Eleanora was resting in the cradle, her tiny hands reaching for the floating birds above. "How are your two darling flowers?"

---