Now Aunt Alberta had her niece exactly where she wanted, she couldn’t have been nicer. In the drawing room of Saxby Hall, she wrapped the girl in a big warm blanket, and sat her on the comfiest sofa in front of the fire.
“There we are, young lady,” said the woman, as she handed Stella a large cup of piping-hot soup. “We must warm you up for the little issue of the signing of those pesky deedy-weedies.”
In her heart the girl knew that she should never ever sign over the deeds of Saxby Hall to her wicked aunt. But her heart was broken. Stella’s body and spirit had been crushed by the past days and nights of terror. With her parents gone, and Soot trapped at the bottom of the icy lake, she felt she had nothing left to live for. If she signed now perhaps this nightmare would be over.
“Let me just get you a penny-wenny,” said the woman brightly.
Stella stared into the fire and sipped her soup.
Aunt Alberta returned with the document and a quill made from a huge owl feather, and sat next to her niece on the sofa.
“You don’t need to go to all the trouble of reading it! Good gracious no! It’s all terribly tedious!” she chuckled. “Just put your signature at the bottom-wottomy there, there’s a good girly-wirly.”
Stella reached out for the quill. Her hand was still shaking so much from the cold that she couldn’t hold it properly.
“Dearest child, let your aunty-waunty give you a helping handy-wandy-pandy.” With that the woman wrapped her niece’s hand in hers and slowly brought the quill to the paper. “Let me make this easy-peasy-poo for you,” she added. With one hand she held the girl’s shaking hand still, and with the other she moved the piece of paper around until Stella’s signature was at the bottom of the deeds.
Saxby Hall was now finally hers.
Aunt Alberta wept with joy. It was the first time Stella had seen the woman show such emotion. She skipped around the drawing room, and rushed over to Wagner, who was sitting on his perch, to give him a big sloppy kiss on his bill. Then she began dancing and singing a little made-up song about herself.
“All hail me, Lady Saxby…”
After the first line the song ground to a halt, however, as it was clear Alberta couldn’t think of anything to rhyme with Saxby’.*
“Do you know what I am going to do with this place, child?”
“No, Aunt Alberta, I don’t,” replied the girl, before continuing in a sarcastic tone, “but I’m sure you are going to tell me.”
“You’re right. I am,” continued the woman. “First thing tomorrow I am going to burn the whole thing down!”