Veronica settled into her own chair. "We will have tea now, please, Uncle George."
George came over, kneeling and picking up the small plastic teapot in the centre of the table. "Of course, ma'am." He pretended to pour her tea first, then followed with the others. Grantaire smirked at him.
"Waited on by a prince, this is novel," he said teasingly.
"He is my butler," Veronica said. "Daddy says he is as good as Mr Pritchard at home. I don't remember Mr Pritchard, I was a little baby when we came here."