|These are the Richardsons, all three are Rs,|
That gazed at the second twins, Geoffrey and Phil
That patted the big St Bernard, Bruno
That sniffed at the dark-haired singleton, Cecil
That woke the Coadjutor, Rösli
That nannied Felix and Flixy, the twins,
Who were blonder than mischief-maker, Mike
That turned black with Charles, the next to be born
That admired his brother Stephen (not Green)
That followed the Triplets, Len Con and Margot
Brought up by the handmaid that adored
The famous author, mother and wife
That lived in the house that Jack bought.
Ruey and the boys were becoming accustomed to the fact that after all, they did have relations apart from their father. Roddy, to be truthful, took it all in his stride. He was a philosophic youth, taking life very much as it came. Once he really understood the state of affairs, he set it aside and returned to his ordinary ploys.
Roger said little, but he thought the more. Secretly, he felt thankful to know that even if their father persisted in his madness and set off on the first space-flight known to man, there would be other older people with the right to look after the younger ones and help him make decisions. He had felt that when he learned that the Maynards were their legal guardians. It was an even greater relief to have relations as well to turn to in case of need.
As for Ruey, sensitive and highly-strung under all her insouciant ways, she was the one to whom, perhaps, it meant most. She loved Joey and Jack with all the strength of her heart, but she knew that even their goodness was not quite the same as the goodness of her own family could be to her. There was no blood-tie between them and though she could never have explained it to anyone, not even herself, she felt the difference. Ruey was clannish by nature.