Little Mary raced through the doors. The various attempts to catch her failed as she deftly dodged the outstretched hands. The maids all collectively heaved a sigh, “What a lively child!”, they said both happy and wearily. Mary ran straight to the table where the big suitcase was now open and its contents were spread on the table in a display. Amongst the various treasures that once belonged to her great grandmother, Mary took a shining to the teapot. And ancient china adorned with an exquisite scene. She couldn’t wait to make tea for Emily and Alice. She would dress them in their finest clothes – frocks adorned with flowers and scarves that were the softest she had ever touched. The three women would meet for their afternoon tea, and she of course, would play the hostess. Some biscuits would have to be arranged. She supposed she could just take them from the tray in the dining hall. She flushed, quite visibly, at the thought of her wonderful tea party. But of course, she would need the teapot at first.
She walked with silent steps, the teapot clutched in both her hands, a sheepish grin playing on her face. Little Mary had once again managed to fool the maids. Mary had dropped some books outside the door and the maids had rushed at once with their all too familiar bemused looks. Mary had simply picked up the teapot and walked out through the other door. She went back to her playroom, and set the teapot in its proper place. The guests, beautifully dressed Emily and Alice, remained impassive in their seats. She sat on her knees and began the rituals of a social tea party.