Yo, Baby!
Jan Stirling

Wheezing like a broken bellows Alzira shuffled along, sandals scooping pebbles at every step. Pure white hair clung to the sweat on her face getting into her dry mouth; she coughed. Her heart pounded so fiercely it was a wonder she wasn't bouncing down the street with every beat.

Velops, too small to keep up with her, was all but swinging from the end of her arm; but Alzira had grown too weak to carry him. He fell, scraping both pudgy knees badly. 

Dark eyes filled with tears, he bit his lower lip and made no sound. Alzira's heart swelled with pride, Velops understood so little of what was happening. Yet her Lopy held on, fought to behave like the warrior he was. 

Gasping for breath, Alzira knelt and lifted him; then felt as though rising was beyond her strength. Desperately she looked down the alleyway, expecting to see their jailer, a snarl on his thick face. 

But there was no one. 

"Ready?" she asked Velops. He nodded.

Panting still, her rising accompanied by a symphony of creaking and popping, Alzira took Lopy's hand and led him onward. She clenched her free hand, aching from the impact of the slop bucket against the head of their erstwhile keeper. He wasn't dead—the blows she'd struck had been too weak—it had taken three strikes just to knock him out. And the knots binding him were nowhere near as tight as they'd have been when she was young.

A little over a week ago.

At the end of the alley Alzira stopped, staring in puzzlement at the slap-dash, gypsy look of the place before them. Wagon backs, or rickety tables with awnings of old canvas had been turned into shops. Accents strange to the ear, scents foreign and exotic abounded. 

She should know this place; memory teased her, danced out of reach. Then her aging brain sparked—they were at the Itinerant's Market, where peddlers, tinkers and entertainers of all sorts plied their trade. She knew this place, they could hide here.
* * * 
Feric sat behind the small table in his tiny blue tent attempting to look mysterious. Symbols hung about outside informed the passing public that here was a soothsayer, a diviner, or more forthrightly, a fortune teller; prices adjusted accordingly. Feric's highest price was cheap, too.

Just not cheap enough to tempt the hard headed citizens of Sarna.

The young mage stifled a sigh as yet another potential customer passed without making eye contact.

An old woman stumbled into sight, a child of perhaps two years clutching her hand. Turning to Feric the expression on her face became one of relief. She looked all around, then dragged the child into the tent.

Feric's graceful gesture made the tent flaps swing closed, giving them privacy of a sort.

"Welcome, madame," Feric murmured unctuously, deepening his voice for effect. "How may I serve you? Have you come to discover what lies in store for this fine . . . young . . . person?" 

The child was so young Feric couldn't tell the gender without a peek into its diapers, best not to risk annoying the client by guessing wrong. Not to mention ruining the illusion of omniscience he was trying to build.

"No!" the hag snarled in a growling purr that must have been alluring in her younger days. She flashed a look at the closed tent flaps. "You can do magic." Her eyes narrowed. Then, "Me. I want to know what's in store for me." 

She snapped him a look that all but grabbed his neck and smacked his head against the tent pole, demanding So you're not gonna give me any trouble, are you boy? 

He knew she'd call him boy. If she was twelve she'd call him boy. All Terion's friends did when they got that look in their eyes.

The woman sat on one of the cushions with an audible crackling of her knees, gently guiding the child to the one beside her.

She looked around the tent the same way Terion, Feric's soldier sweetheart, would when entering a new place; the swift, efficient sizing up of a professional warrior. Her wrists were thick, the hands muscular and calloused, like Teri's.

"As you wish," Feric said, his voice like expensive oil. Why doesn't she want to know her grandchild's future? She can't have all that much future left to worry about. "Cards, crystal, or shall I read your palm, warrior lady?"

"What?" She straightened, big hands groping at her hip for a sword. "What makes you think I'm a warrior?" she demanded. Then thrust her hand at him. "Palm," she snarled.

As he took her hand, the child made a sound, almost a whimper and the woman turned her head. She seemed to be listening to the sounds of the street outside.

"My . . . friends are warriors," Feric said, "their hands all have calluses like these." He touched the rim of thickened skin that extended from her thumb to near the end of her index finger.

The woman gave him a measuring look.

"You're honest," she said musingly.

He smiled his best professional smile.

"Of course. A soothsayer who lies isn't . . . " Honest? Very soothful? Where are you going with this, Feric? "Very wise," he finished lamely but with relief. 

He cleared his throat, straightened her hand and began.

"You're in danger," he said, touching her palm. He frowned. "You may escape this danger by your own actions, aided by friends."

The hag turned her hand and clasped his with an astonishingly firm grip, dragging him forward until their noses almost touched. Her eyes bored into his as she said, "I have need of an honest man."

Feric blinked. Oh, please, he thought, don't let it be the kind of need I think she means. 

She put the toddler's hand in his and, smiling, said, "Thanks for your advice." Then, rising to the sound of snapping bones, she scuttled from the tent.

Magician and child gazed at one another with mutual expressions of wide eyed horror.

"Madam!" Feric bellowed, leaping over his low table, cushions and the child. He swept the blue curtains aside to find her gone. "Ple-eea-se!" he shouted. "Come back! You've . . . forgotten something."

The mage looked at the child, baby really, who was managing to look noble and mysterious. Exactly the look that Feric practiced in front of his mirror, but with more conviction.

"Granny will be back," he assured the toddler cheerfully. Praying that granny would indeed be back. And soon.

The child sighed and laid its head on one of the cushions, apparently meaning to take a nap.

Feric bit his lip as he watched the baby settle. 

Teri's going to kill me, he thought.
* * * 
"You accepted a baby in payment for telling a fortune?" Terion's brow was deeply furrowed as she gazed at the sleeping child. "I can't believe you did that."

"I didn't accept the baby, she left it," Feric said. "She moved so fast, scuttled out like a lizard—I couldn't believe . . ." At his partner's arch look he stammered, "But . . . it . . . I . . . she . . . I was in shock!"

"I think you still are," Teri said, kissing him lightly. "Well." She stood back, arms folded across her chest. "Did she say anything that made you think she'd be back?"

"She said she needed an honest man," Feric said miserably.

Terion cocked her head, looking at his drooping figure with sympathy. She gave him a gentle pat, he staggered slightly.

"So . . . what're you gonna do with it?" Teri asked, gesturing towards the sleeping baby. She kept her eyes and posture noncommittal because she sure as blazes didn't know what to do.

He glanced from Terion to the sweetly sleeping child. "I . . . guess I'll keep it until she comes back," he said.

Teri covered her mouth, hiding her smile. She loved his soft heart. But adopting a child wasn't the same as picking up a stray cat or dog.

"You'll have to take care of it," she warned him. Well, I'd be saying that if it was a cat. "And it'll cost you."

"Oh, surely not," Feric said cheerfully. "If two can live as cheaply as one, then surely three can live as cheaply as two. Especially when the third's as small as this little person."

With a grin, Teri threw a brawny arm around his narrow shoulders and hugged him to her.

"Your economic theory stinks, but your heart's in the right place." She pursed her lips, sighed and said, "All right. I'll check through the market and surrounding neighborhoods to see if someone's missing a baby. Y'know, if she was senile this might not be hers. She might've just picked it up and carried it along until she was tired of it."

"She didn't seem senile," Feric said doubtfully.

Teri gave him a squeeze and shook him gently.

"She gave an infant to a total stranger. That doesn't argue for stability, my dear."

Feric looked thoughtful. "I didn't get to read much," he said, "but she was in danger."

With a sigh and a roll of her eyes Terion let him go.

"She was!" he insisted. "Real danger, too, not like she was going to stub a toe or something. Bet she left the baby with me to keep it safe. She was preoccupied—not listening to me at all, really. Like someone was after them and she feared to be found."

"Oh, Feric, you're making up a whole history for her. You know fortune telling's not your best thing."

"I'm getting better," he muttered.

"She's probably some dotty old granny who is right now wondering if she's forgotten something." Terion leaned down and lifted the child, cradling it in her arms. "Let's go have supper," she said, putting a stop to his sputtering. "Then I'll start looking around. I'll get some of the squad to ask questions too. We'll soon have this little one back where she, or he belongs."
* * * 
Terion walked along, thinking hard. She'd been to city guard headquarters; no missing child to match their found one had been reported. 

The baby's healthy, despite the dirt and rags, so someone's been looking after it, she mused. Granny? Then why dump the child on the first stranger she met? Maybe she'd found it beyond her strength or means to care for it. If so Feric's the perfect mark. Teri's mouth quirked at that. No way would her sweetie throw the baby out with the bathwater.

None she'd questioned in the Itinerant's Market knew of a wandering granny or missing baby. 

But that's the nature of the place, Teri thought glumly. People leave. Who'll notice you're missing when you're expected to disappear. 

Shrieking! Howling—an angry, unending cry. The source; the room occupied by Feric and herself. Alarmed, Teri ran for home, leaping upstairs two at time. She flung open their door, then slammed it shut behind her.

"Feric! What happened? I could hear that baby screaming all the way down the street!"

"I don't know!" He wrung his hands. "He just started and nothing I can do will shut him up."

"It's a he?" she asked.

"I don't know!" Feric snapped. 

Terion sniffed. "Well, you're about to find out," she said. "It needs changing." She went to the wash basin intending to toss him a linen towel.

"You do it!" Feric said in a panic. "You're the woman."

There was a silence. Like that following a deafening peal of thunder. Even the baby was silent, its mouth open, staring at the young mage. Feric cringed and put his hand to his mouth, as if, too late, he'd stuff the words back in.

Slowly, Terion turned.

"The crying," Feric said in a rush, pointing at the baby with both hands. "I wasn't thinking, I was panicked."

She raised one brow, glanced at the child. The baby looked positively indignant.

"If you want a pet, my boy, you have take care of it and clean up after. I have nothing to do with it." She flung him the towel. "I will, however, get you some hot water." She picked up the pitcher and left the room.

Feric and the baby looked at one another.

"That was close," the magician said.

He could have sworn the baby nodded.
* * * 
A few moments ago, when the market shut down, Feric had closed his curtains, resolved to find out something about their little boy. Taking the cards the baby had played with, dry now, he dealt them, then blinked at the pattern the cards formed. 

"This can't be," Feric whispered.

Reaching out he touched a card indicating royal blood.

Suddenly Terion swept aside the tent flap, a peculiarly pleased expression on her handsome face.

"You won't believe this!" she whispered. She turned and held the curtain aside.

Feric shot to his feet when he saw the gold coronet glittering in the man's dark hair. His visitor's robes were embroidered with the royal crest of Sarna. Standing, the man's head touched the blue ceiling; so broad were his shoulders he literally filled the tent. A smile beamed out of his black beard like a crescent moon.

"I hear you've found my nephew," he said.

Feric bowed. "I found a baby, Your Grace. Hopefully it will be your missing child."

"Well, where is he?" The Duke looked around the small tent, a frown quickly replacing his smile.

"Our neighbor happened by, Your Grace, the baby was restless, so she volunteered to take care of him for a few hours. He's at our apartment." Feric was nervous about the Duke's reaction to this news. Teri, he knew, would be appalled. He avoided her eyes.

Terion had all she could do to keep from shouting, "Are you crazy? You gave the Duke's nephew into the care of a woman who gives spankings for a living!" Teri knew this was unfair, Feric couldn't have known they were coming. And she liked Lustra, who'd been a good neighbor and friend to both of them. Besides she's too professional to spank somebody without being paid for it. Especially someone who wouldn't enjoy it.

They could only hope the Duke, in his joy at finding his nephew, wouldn't notice the babysitter's true profession.

"I'm sorry, Your Grace," she said aloud. "We never dreamed we'd find the child's family so quickly."

"Of course," he said coldly. "In any case this is no place for children. Shall we go?" he asked Terion, Feric having disappeared upon being unable to supply what was wanted.

"Yes, Your Grace." Teri bowed, gesturing Feric to remain behind. If he does notice Lustra's a . . . well, I don't want my sweetie within arm's reach. 
* * * 
Feric sat down with a "Woof!" The Duke's nephew! That explains the cards. 

An arm snaked around his neck dragging him backwards, a knife dug into his neck. Feric prayed that whoever it was would strangle him because the knife was as dull as air.

"Where's my Lopy?" a voice growled in his ear.

What in the cold hells is a lopy? Feric asked himself. A shoe, a doll, a breakfast food? Sounded like food. A big bowl of lopy, he thought frantically.

"I don't have any," he gasped, pushing at the arm around his narrowing windpipe.

There was a pause, then a hard hand smacked his head.

"The boy, you idiot! Where's the baby I gave you to care for?"

"Oh. Ah. The Duke . . ."

Another slap. 

"I saw the Duke. Where's the baby?"

Alzira let Feric go. He sat up, rubbing throat and head as he turned to stare at her.

"Are you mad—running away with the Duke's nephew?" he asked.

"The king's his only relative and Velops has no children!" she snapped.

"Well isn't it possible the Duke knows something you don't. I mean, perhaps the king . . ." instinct warned him not to say it. "You know."

"Velops—has—no—children," she said through the teeth she had left. Alzira stood staring haughtily down at him. "If the Duke gets the child first he'll be dead in days."

"How can you say that?" Feric asked.

"Because the babe is King Velops, and I am Queen Alzira." 

Feric stared, she couldn't be who she said she was. The Queen was a blooming young warrior of twenty-two. And yet, he felt she was telling the truth, sensed the tickle of magic now he was this close to her.

Alzira grabbed Feric by the front of his robe and pulled him up, very slowly, arms trembling with the effort.

"You will help me," she told him. "Where—is—Velops?" Alzira watched his eyes, sensed him wavering. "Take a chance!" she demanded.

"Follow me," he said.
* * * 
Lustra waited as long as she could, then changed into her working clothes, telling the landlady she was taking the baby with her to the cook shop where she ate so that Teri or Feric would know where to find them.

Now, while she sipped her after dinner wine, the baby rested his rose petal cheek against one ripe, white breast, his chubby hand slowly stroking the other.

"Vel-Lops!" an old woman squawked.

The baby sat bolt upright, exactly the same expression on his face that Feric might have worn had Teri caught him in the same situation.

"Ah!" the infant shouted ecstatically and slid off Lustra's black satin lap. "Ah!" he repeated, toddling rapidly towards the hag.

"Pffft!" Alzira gave a dismissive wave and turned her back on him.

"Ah?" he said sadly. Then began to cry, mouth opened wide, with no sound coming out. Red-faced the child danced silently, caught his breath and an ear-shattering shriek burst forth.

"Please, Lopy! Don't be such a baby!" Alzira snapped. "And don't try to tell me you didn't know what you were doing."

Feric and Lustra exchanged glances. She frowning, he shrugging sheepishly.

"Ah!" Velops said passionately and threw chubby arms around her leg.

"We've no time for this," Alzira said, snatching him up. Cold shot through her as she realized he was now light enough for her to carry.

"You didn't see me," Feric whispered to Lustra, then led Alzira and Velops through the grease-stained curtain that mercifully hid the kitchen from the customers. 

Lustra shook her head and took another sip of wine. Teri and Feric were certainly an odd couple.

Terion entered the cook shop, stopping short at the sight of a childless Lustra.

"Mmmwhere's the baby?" she managed to ask casually. She felt the Duke looming over her like a tidal wave looking for a village to drown.

"Ohhh," Lustra drawled, "his little old lady showed up and he fairly flew into her arms." Never glancing at the Duke she made a little moue in response to Terion's horrified expression. "You should be pleased," Lustra scolded. "He's back where he started and happy to boot. If you didn't want me to give him up, you should have said so."

Irritated, Terion gestured to the Duke. 

"Turns out our waif belongs to the royal family. He's Duke Allu's nephew."

Lustra glanced up at him through her eyelashes.

"You naughty man," she purred. "You should be punished for losing your nephew." She gave him an assessing look.

To Teri's surprise the Duke bowed low, hand to his heart.

"Beautiful lady," Allu murmured, "the blame is all mine."

"Yesss," Lustra hissed, eyes glittering.

The Duke moved to take the other seat at her table. A long, pale leg snaked out to claim it. The cross gaitering on Lustra's sandals went all the way to the top of her leg and so did the Duke's eyes, to where the delicate skin of her inner thigh plumped out against the black leather.

I can almost see his eyes leaping out of his head and running up and down her leg yelling "Yippee!", Terion thought. She'd never seen her neighbor slip into working mode and was impressed, also astonished to see the Duke responding like this.

"You should go find your nephew," Lustra said, flicking her fingers at him in dismissal.

Terion felt her eyebrows rise.

"Of course, Lady." Allu bowed again, gestured for his people and Terion to leave with him.

"Not her," Lustra said, touching Terion's wrist. "I want her to stay."

The Duke's eyes flared, then lowered. He touched his heart.

"Lady," he said. "Until we meet again."

This time Lustra's eyes flared. 

Teri rolled hers, but was relieved to see the Duke and his people leave.

"My dear," Lustra enthused, "I must take you and Feric to dinner as a reward for introducing me to the Duke! I've dreamed of something like this, but never imagined it could really happen. Oooooh!" She clasped her hands to her ample bosom. "I'm going to be sooo rich!"

Terion gestured toward the door. 

"Um . . . he left."

"Oh," Lustra stretched luxuriously and smiled, "he'll be back. I can smell it." Her eyes went round. "Oh, you'd better go home. I can't imagine where else Feric would take them."

"Feric? Feric was with them?"

Lustra cocked her head and shrugged. "He said he wasn't."

Terion chuckled. "Maybe we should take you to dinner."
* * * 
Lustra decided to accompany Terion home.

"I want to find out what this is all about," she explained. "I was too busy flirting with his grace to ask him any questions."

"What makes you think he'd tell you anything?" Teri asked, eyeing her neighbor dubiously.

"Oh, if you handle them right the clients will tell you anything you want to know," Lustra said smugly. She flicked her hand. "It's all in the wrist."

Teri rolled her eyes and said, "Pfff."

She unlocked her door to find Feric leaning over an incredibly old woman on the bed, a tiny infant cradled in her arms. Lustra, coming in behind her, gasped at the sight and threw herself backwards until she hit the wall.

"It just happened," Feric said, straightening. "Her Majesty must be about ninety now."

"Her Majesty?" Terion repeated.

"This is King Velops," he said, indicating the baby.

"That isn't the baby we've been taking care of," Terion protested. "He's, what, nine months old?"

"It is!" Lustra hissed, eyes wide. "I put that ribbon on his ankle, and that woman . . . in the cook shop was much younger!" She put her hand to her mouth, bit her knuckle.

"Magic," Feric explained. "They're under an aging spell. Queen Alzira says it's Allu's doing. He presented them with a "very special vintage" and when they woke they were locked in a cellar, she was years older, he was just a child. They were prisoners for about a week, then they escaped, but Alzira couldn't manage the King and seek help. As for help," he shrugged, "she tried, but no one believed her."

"Naturally," Terion murmured. If Feric hadn't vouched for the old woman's story she wouldn't have believed it herself. Now that she looked at the baby more closely Teri thought there was a resemblance to their own waif. She shook her head. "What do we do?"

"Oh!" Lustra suddenly said, ducking into the hallway. "Are you looking for me?" she asked of a page, who'd knocked on her door.

The boy took her in, satin—cleavage—long legs and swallowed hard.

"Are you M-m-mistress Lustra, madam?" he asked.

"I am." Lustra held out her hand with a sultry smile.

He fairly floated to her, presenting a roll of fine vellum, sealed with the Duke's ring.

"Thank you, madam," the boy said as she accepted it.

"Aren't you sweet," Lustra gushed and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

The boy vanished. Only the sound of a moose falling downstairs told them he hadn't used magic.

"They're so adorable when they're that age," Lustra said as she returned to Teri and Feric's room. "What a pity they grow up."

Feric felt as though he should apologize.

"From the Duke," Lustra said with a lilt of her well-shaped brows. She broke the seal. "Ah ha!" she said. "I'm invited to dine with His Grace, and to wait upon his pleasure this very night. Immediately." She pressed the letter to her bosom. "You've no idea what this means to me! I'll be introduced to the aristocracy. I shall achieve respectability! Of a sort," she continued in a less rapturous tone. "I must prepare." She spun towards the door.

"Wait!" the old woman said.

Lustra turned back at the tone of command in the cracked voice.

"You can get us in to the Duke." Alzira looked at Terion. "We might be able to force him to give us an antidote."

"Unlikely," Lustra said with a pout. "Even if the spell could be reversed you'd need the mage who cast it. And I promise you, he won't be there tonight."

"It's their only hope," Feric said.

"Look at them," Teri agreed. "They're almost out of time. You have to help."

"Oooh!" Lustra said, shaking her fists and stamping her feet. "This was my one big chance! Don't you know that?"

"Woman," Alzira croaked, "I assure you, if you help us, you'll only gain by it."

"Of course I'll help. The Duke's very attractive, but he'd make a terrible king." 
* * * 
"My child is ill," Lustra said to Duke Allu's chamberlain. "This is his nanny, this is his wet nurse and this is my physician." She must have said this to forty different people on their way here. "Find them an anteroom nearby where they can be comfortable."

"Yes, Mistress," the chamberlain said with blatant disapproval.

Can't really blame him, Terion thought. It is a little eccentric to bring the family to an assignation. 

"Stay here," the man snapped at them, then bowed to Lustra. "If madam will follow me."

Lustra smiled haughtily, walking behind him as though she owned both palace and chamberlain.

The adults smiled at one another. The baby began to smell. Again.
* * * 
They'd heard the Duke dismiss the last of his servants half an hour before. Now they crept out of the room where they'd been waiting and tiptoed to Allu's bedroom door. Terion pressed her ear against the panel. 

Lustra was speaking, then there was silence. The Duke made . . . a very interesting noise. Teri stood straight, gave the door a disapproving glance then tried the knob. The door opened soundlessly and Terion blinked at what she saw. 

The Duke was bound to a padded drying rack, bent double in a way that put his muscular bottom uppermost. Lustra stroked his back with a whip made from ribbons and strips of fur.

"Oh! Yes!" the Duke cried.

Lustra noticed them and put a finger to her lips, then placed a rather complicated gag in the Duke's mouth.

Teri and the others came openly into the room. The Duke began to struggle in his bonds.

"Oh, no no no," Lustra cooed. "This is for your own good, my sweet." She kissed her fingertip and tapped his nose. Then she went over and made sure the door was locked.

"You're going to tell us how to restore the King and Queen to their natural state," Terion said.

Allu murfled something through his gag. Tightening her lips Teri unbuckled the thing and dropped it.

"I'll tell you nothing," the Duke snarled. "You'll never get away with this!"

Teri picked up Lustra's little whip.

"You forget," the Duke sneered, "This sort of thing . . . entertains . . . me."

Raising one eyebrow Teri dropped the toy and, reaching beneath her cloak, brought out what her sergeant called the unit's "attitude adjustment device." Ten thick, four-foot-long knotted rawhide strips attached to a wire-wound wooden handle. Teri shook it out, listening to the dry sound of the knots gainst the stone floor.

"You forget," she said with a grim smile, "I'm . . . not an entertainer." She raised her arm for the first stroke.

The door burst open to reveal a helmeted and chain-mailed figure, standing in a cloud of mist.

"I warned you," said a sepulchral voice.

Alzira, cradling Velops in her arms fell to her knees and bowed her head.

Feric stood between the Queen and the figure in the doorway as Lustra crawled out from under the collapsed door.

"Who're you?" Terion demanded.

"She's Baza, shaman of my warrior order," Alzira croaked. "She warned me of my brother-in-law's scheme to overthrow us. "You were right, Lady," she said to the shaman. "Please help us."

The shaman took off her helmet and the Duke's laugh cracked out.

"She's the one who sold me the spell that's killing you," he told Alzira. "Don't look there for help! Or to me either." And he laughed again, until he began to cough.

"You're in no position to laugh, Your Grace," Baza said, entering the room. She took a vial from her pouch and gave it to the Queen.

Alzira poured half of it into the reluctant baby's mouth. Velops began to weep and fuss. Then she drank the rest of it. She clutched her throat and looked askance at the shaman.

"Yes, it tastes terrible," Baza said, "and will feel worse, but that can't be helped." Reaching down she removed the king's diaper, then placed her own cloak over him.

"Why?" Alzira asked.

"Because His Grace was going to try to kill you," Baza answered. "This way I could control the circumstances and so convince you of his sincere desire to murder you."

As they watched Alzira transformed into a young woman and Velops was now a man. They both looked at the bent Duke.

"He's my only brother," Velops said sadly. "Though he's a traitor, it would break my heart to kill him." He shook his head. "Somewhere in his life, who knows where, he might have been turned from this path."

"You can't trust him!" Baza and Alzira said as one.

"Yet, I'd give him another chance if I could," Velops said.

"Um." All eyes turned to Terion. "He could start again," she said, making a drinking gesture. "From the beginning."

Baza smiled, then began to laugh. She took a vial from the pouch at her waist and rose, walking towards Allu.

"A truly splendid idea," she said.