Gail Carriger - Etiquette & Espionage

Dimity and Pillover stayed the length of the winter holidays. There were so many Temminnick children that Sophronia privately suspected her mother of not noticing the extras. Mrs. Temminnick was occupied with preparing Petunia for a London Season, her little country ball having garnered enough attention to warrant a mention in the Morning Post . It came as a relief to pack her youngest daughter and associated compatriots back to what she could only surmise was a respectable finishing school that would hopefully rid Sophronia of her many manifest flaws.

Little did she know.

Sophronia returned to Mademoiselle Geraldine’s to find the prototype safely ensconced at Bunson’s and already under reproduction, a commendation in her school record for unwarranted but well-executed fancy-dress operation maneuvers, and Bumbersnoot waiting quietly in the sitting room with a note pinned to his buttocks.

“Next time,” read the note, “please use a more genteel method of object transfer. There is ash all down my evening dress. Yours, etc. Mrs. B.”

Sophronia patted her mechanimal on his head. “Nicely done, Bumbersnoot.”

Bumbersnoot belched a puff of steam in satisfaction and wagged his mechanical tail—tick-tock, tick-tock.