A jangle of bells cut through the silence of the Potter house, followed a few seconds later by the click of tight-laced servant' shoes on the marmle floor of the from hall. "Are we expecting someone?" said Mrs. Potter, looking up from her sewing. She and Beatrix were in the morning room that sat at the back of the house between the drawing room and the sunlit garden. "It's my guests, Mother," said Beatrix, folding the napkin she was eding. "The men publishing my book." And she added, "As you well know." Mrs. Potter liked to pretend that she was ignorant of what was happening in her house; that no one told her anything and that it was all a mystery. That was her way of controlling things, as she entered what she had decided were her declining years. Being hard-of-hearing, she had leaned, was a great asset. A look of apprehension came over Beatrix's face. "And it's not a social call. In fact, I fear it's going to be quite unpleasant." "I wish you wouldn't invite tradespeople into the house," Mrs. Potter continued, pretending she had heard nothing. "They carry dust." Beatrix opened the French doors and said in a voice that even a woman going deaf couldn't miss, "I would have gone to their office, Mother, but I didn't think it wise to leave you alon - as you have made quite clear!" Beatrix entered the drawing room, chose a chair near the foreplace where tea had been sey out, and perched lightly on the edge of its cushion, sitting upright in the most proper manner. She adjusted her skirt so that no wrinkles proper manner. She adjusted her skirt so that no wrinkles showed. In the background, she could hear noises of a visiter being admitted to the foyer. Jane , tha maid, entered the room.
"Mr. Norman Warne," jane announced, giving a name Beatrix had not heard before. A young man entered the room. Beatrix reacted in surprise. Mr. Norman Warne was not a dour, furry tradesman like the brothers she had met. He was a handsome young man in his mid-thirties, smartly dressed in a tweed suit, his hair short and neatly parted, his only concession to the current fashion for facial hair a neatly trimmed moustache that gave his otherwise bland features a definite dash.