Information on the original characters in this story:

Name: Robert Jacob Trunchbull

Born: 4/15/1901

Description: Tall and robust. Angular jaw, dark brown hair, dark blue eyes. Peach skin tone.

Known Relatives: Jacob Francis & Marjorie Susan Trunchbull (parents, deceased)

Occupation: Lawyer

Hobbies: Reading

Likes: Reading, his wife Grace, spending time with friends, red wine, money

Dislikes: His daughter Agatha, white wine, doing paperwork

Name: Grace Margaret Trunchbull (nee Audley)

Born: 2/12/1903

Description: Tall and slender. Round face, ash blond hair, sky blue eyes. Light skin tone.

Known Relatives: 2 sisters, 4 nephews, 3 nieces, and one aunt (more on them later)

Hobbies: Reading, playing the piano, listening to music, practicing French

Likes: Her husband, her family, flowers, spending time with friends, visiting her family

Dislikes: Her daughter Agatha, wine, smoking, people who seem to have no manners

Name: Claudine Alberta Moore

Born: 10/2/1878

Description: Medium height, plump. Heart-shaped face with hooked nose, graying brown hair often kept up in a bun, hazel eyes. Light skin tone. Freckled.

Occupation: Maid (27 years experience, 11 of which were spent with the Trunchbull family)

Likes: Taking care of her employers, babies, taking walks through the town

Dislikes: Being yelled at, getting caught in the middle of an argument, drinking, smoking, taking care of baby Agatha

Name: James Joseph Webb

Born: 5/13/1889

Description: Short and thin. Round face, dark brown hair, light brown eyes. Pale skin tone.

Occupation: Chauffeur (9 years experience)

Likes: His employer's wife Grace, listening to music, smoking

Dislikes: Driving in the rain

More characters to come. Don't forget about the poll on my profile!

November 5, 1931

"Mrs. Trunchbull?" The rapping on her door jolted Grace out of her reading. "Mrs. Trunchbull?"

Grace straightened herself in her chair. "Yes, Claudine?" she said. "What is it?"

"Your sister Mrs. Stanton is here to see you."

Grace closed her book and placed it carefully on the table beside her. "Let her come in, Claudine."

The door swung open. A woman in a dark blue dress stepped into the room, a small suede handbag hanging from the crook of her arm. Like Grace, she too was fair-haired, but while Grace had eyes as blue as the sky, this woman's eyes were green as a jade.

"Would you like anything during your stay, Mrs. Stanton?" Claudine asked from the hallway. "I could put on some tea for you. Or I could bring up some pastries."

"No, thank you, Ms. Moore," the woman answered. "I'm all right."

"I'm all right, too, Claudine," said Grace. "You can go." Claudine didn't need to be told twice.

Once she was gone, Grace gave the woman a warm smile. "Hello, Mercy," she said as cheerfully as she could. "It's nice to see you again. Please, take a seat. How are your children?"

The woman smiled back. "It's nice to see you, too, Gracie. Well, my family is doing very well, thank you for asking. Little Henry started school a couple of months ago, and just the other day, I bought for little Claire this adorable dress. It's pink with a lace trim." Mercy sat down on a cushion bench placed at the foot of the bed. "Perhaps when I'm over next time, I'll put Claire in that dress and bring her with."

"That would be wonderful, Mercy." Grace's smile wavered as she thought about her own daughter. Her ugly little daughter, now just a week old, lying in her cradle that currently occupied a small guest room on the third floor. The day after she was born, Robert had James assist him in moving the cradle up to that particular room. He had later explained to Grace that he had done it so she could have some peace and quiet while she recovered from the birth, but she as well as Claudine and James knew that Robert had done it because he wanted the baby as far away from him as possible.

There was no doubt that Robert hated Agatha, hated her from the moment she entered the world. In the seven days following her birth, Robert was always speaking negatively of the baby. He would complain about how Agatha would keep him up during the night with her incessant crying (after Grace had given birth, Robert took up residence in one of the guest rooms on the second floor. Unfortunately for him, it was beneath the one where Agatha was now in). He only referred to her by her name a few times, and the other times he would call her horrible nicknames. He called her a brat, a beast, a freak of nature, even a mistake.

Grace had chided her husband for his treatment of the infant, but she couldn't help but have some dislike towards Agatha as well. When Dr. Fields had announced that she had had a girl, Grace's heart filled with joy. A girl! A little girl to put in pretty new dresses and to give pretty china dolls to. But the joy had quickly dissipated once Dr. Fields had shown her what her baby had looked like. Not even the prettiest dress could alter her appearance.

"Gracie? What's wrong?"

Grace shook herself. "Oh...nothing, Mercy," she lied. "Nothing at all."

Mercy gave her a look of concern. "It's about that new baby of yours, isn't it?"

Grace blinked her eyes. "How did you know about Agatha? Did Robert...?"

"That's what you've called her? Agatha? It's such a horrid name, if you ask me. Anyway, I received his letter yesterday. He was quite vivid when he described how...uncomely she is." Mercy tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Where is she? Is she is the nursery?"

"Robert moved the cradle up to the third floor," Grace explained. "Claudine fed her just before he left this morning."

"How often do you check on Agatha?"

"I haven't." Grace sighed. "When I was still pregnant with her, I would sometimes feel too sore to get out of bed, and then giving birth to her drained me of most of my strength. Dr. Fields worried that I wouldn't make it through the night. I've been on bed rest since she was born." It was only on this cold, overcast morning that Grace had enough strength to haul herself out of bed without assistance. In spite of this, Robert forbade her from leaving her room, stating that she was still not strong enough to even go down the stairs. "A few more days," he had added, "and then you'll be as right as rain."

Just then, Grace and Mercy snapped their heads upward as a loud wail was heard. Grace sighed. "Agatha is awake," she muttered under her breath. She stood up slowly. "I'd best call for Claudine. Excuse me a moment, Mercy." She walked out of the bedroom and shouted her maid's name.

"I'm coming, I'm coming, Mrs. Trunchbull!" Claudine shouted back. "Give me a moment."

It took longer than a moment before Grace Trunchbull saw the plump woman, in a mauve dress and frilly white apron, bustle up the stairs with a bottle of milk in one hand and a clean nappy in the other. The maid bustled past her mistress and continued on up the stairs to the third floor. She was only halfway up when Grace called to her.

"What, Mrs. Trunchbull?" Claudine demanded impatiently.

"Uhm...could...could you...?" Grace hesitated.

"Could I what, Mrs. Trunchbull? I'm quite preoccupied at the moment."

"Well...I was wondering if you could...could bring...could bring Agatha down, please."

Claudine was more than astonished. "What did you say?"

Grace cleared her throat. "Please bring Agatha down here for a moment, Claudine. Just for a moment. After you're done feeding her and such. Please? It will only be for a moment."

Mercy had gotten up and followed her sister to the doorway. "Grace, what has gotten into you? Don't you remember how much pain you were in when you gave birth to her?"

"I only said I wanted to see her for a moment," Grace said offhandedly. "It's not like I...like I truly care about Agatha. I just want to see how she's faring, that's all." She turned to face her older sister. "A mother should be concerned about her baby's well-being, am I correct?"

Mercy didn't answer.

Ten minutes later, Claudine came tromping back down the stairs, the one-week-old Agatha in her arms. The baby was just as big as she was when she was born, but much chubbier. Because the clothes Robert and Grace had purchased in the months prior to her birth were too small for her, all Agatha wore was a nappy and a pair of soft white bootees, given to the parents by a long-time acquaintance of theirs. Her mud brown hair was neatly brushed against her head and hidden beneath a small white cap. Mercy Stanton scrunched up her nose in disgust at the sight of her new niece.

"How ugly she is," she said aloud. "I hope you and Robert have more children, because no one will want to hold a baby as uncomely as she." Almost as though she had understood her aunt, Agatha scowled.

"Of course we are," said Grace. "But not anytime soon. We'll wait a year or two before having more."

Mercy Stanton nodded her head, looking a bit pleased. "That is good," she murmured. "I'm sure your other children will be prettier than her." She eyed her niece with distaste. "This baby would be better off living as a nun in a convent."

"A nun?"

"Or perhaps a maid. A woman doesn't get anywhere looking like a boar." As she said looking like a boar, Mercy stood up and prodded Agatha's cheek with a sharp fingernail, causing the baby to squirm and kick. Claudine held her firmly and said, "I'm going to take Agatha back to her room. I think it is time for her to take a nap. Excuse me." She exited the bedroom and tromped back up the stairs.

Mercy suddenly yawned. "I ought to get going soon," she said.

"Don't you want to stay for tea, sister Mercy?" asked Grace hopefully. "Claudine just bought some Lady Grey the other day. It's quite nice."

Mercy Stanton shook her head. "I told Thomas that I wouldn't be staying for too long."

"Oh. Who is Thomas?"

"Thomas Alger. He's our family's new chauffeur. A poor young lad of twenty years from Manchester. His parents died a year ago, and he needs the money to feed his sisters and brothers. We hired him back in August. It took longer to get here than it did when we had Mr. Daniels, but I can assure you that Mr. Alger is learning very quickly." Her eyes suddenly brightened. "There you go! You can have Agatha become the chauffeur for your family when she's older."

"I don't think so." Grace chuckled a little. "We've had James for nearly ten years; we couldn't kick him to the curb just because we want Agatha to drive us places. Besides, I don't believe we will be letting her out of the house any time soon."

"Oh. I see." Mercy adjusted her handbag on her arm. "Well, perhaps you and Robert could discuss what to do with her in the future."

"Yes. I'll talk to him before we go to bed."

"So, Mercy wanted to know what we were going to do with Agatha, did she?"

"Yes, dear. My sister thinks we should send her to a convent when's she older, or something close to it."

Grace reclined against the pillows of the bed, her copy of Pride and Prejudice sitting in her lap. Robert was standing at the window, looking out on to the poorly-lit street. A couple of years ago, Robert had written a letter requesting more street lamps on Slate Street, but he never got any response, nor were any more street lamps installed.

"Hmm..." Robert propped his chin on his fist, thinking about what his wife had told him. After a long moment, he spoke.

"Sending Agatha to a convent does seem like a good idea, but..." he shrugged. "The Trunchbulls were never the religious sort. And I presume that the other nuns will think the girl to be a devil and try to get rid of her."

"So the possibility of making her a nun is out?" Grace asked. When her husband nodded, she sighed. "I guess we'll have to think of something else. Though I did like the idea of giving her to a convent. What about putting her to work as a maid? She can learn from Claudine. And when Claudine is too old to work, then Agatha could replace her."

Robert shrugged again. "That could be a possibility. But one thing is certain, Grace: Agatha will not receive one copper penny from either of us." He turned to face her. "Do you understand me, Grace? Agatha won't be mentioned anywhere in my will. The sooner she goes, the better."

"Yes, I understand, Robert," Grace said before yawning. "Oh, I do feel tired."

"Just rest up for now, Grace," Robert said, moving close to the bed and giving her a kiss on the forehead. "You are still on bed rest."

"Goodnight, Robert."

"Goodnight, Grace. I'll see you in the morning."

All right, the next part is done. You readers are free to suggest something that I could write down for the next part.

I'm trying very hard to not have Grace care too much for Agatha. Grace will have some sort of toleration for the girl, but she won't truly love her.