The final chapter, finally! Things have been going well for me of late, which meant that I had gotten away from the writing a bit. It's interesting to see so many opinions of what happens to these two; hopefully mine will add to the discussion and keep the fine original works by Lerner and Loewe and GB Shaw at top of mind. Anything I do here is merely a tribute to those writers and composers and how multidimensional they made their characters. And an occasional excuse for a laugh. I have a couple other ideas up my sleeve. Thank you all for your feedback; see you down the line!

Berenice the governess was asleep in her chair, and therefore unavailable to tell Hughie to stop singing that song. She called it a "dangerous" song that could produce bad words. But Hughie was a Higgins and a Doolittle, with a quick ear and a wonderful memory, so he was never in any danger of committing social atrocities. And anyway, he learned it from listening to Berenice:

Sister Susie's sewing shirts for soldiers.

Such skill at sewing shirts our shy sweet sister Susie shows!

Some soldiers send epistles saying they'd sooner sleep on thistles

Than without the short soft shirts for soldiers sister Susie sews!

"What's an epistle?" Hughie asked Muriel.

Muriel was seven years old and fancied herself an expert on theology and, because she was a Higgins and a Doolittle, just about everything else. She declared, "It is a book from the Bible."

"The soldiers were giving Susie BIBLES? That doesn't make any sense at all! Why were they giving her BIBLES?"

"It is probably an award, like they give in Sunday School. They do give Bibles as awards in Sunday School."

"But what are you going to do with all those Bibles? They all say the same thing! … don't they?" Hughie could read but was fairly new to it.

"Of course they do! They would all have different titles otherwise."

Something was unsatisfactory about that answer but Hughie couldn't figure out what. He was silent for a moment. "Anyway, I don't know why Reggie and Trudy got to go to Uncle Hugh's party and we didn't."

Muriel huffed. "It's not a party, it's a funeral! Uncle Hugh is dead!" She was the direct sort.

"I know he's dead!" Hughie was tired of Muriel thinking he was stupid. Yet, at age five, he was still a bit muddy on the permanency of the condition of death.

The doorbell rang. Hughie bolted past Muriel, out the nursery door, and down the stairs. "Father 'n' Mum are home!"

Muriel sighed and rolled her eyes. "Of course they are!" She shouldered the burden of her great wisdom and headed to the front door.

The door swung open before Pearce arrived; the bell was merely a signal that Professor Higgins was home. First in was Mrs Higgins in a straight black dress just past her knees and a hat with a thin black veil over her eyes. Then came her husband the Professor in his usual tweed suit. Gertrude, in a grey drop-waist dress, was tall for not-quite-eleven. Reginald, in black knickerbockers and white shirt (the bow tie was already off) was short for nine, but large hands and feet indicated that would not be for long. Mrs Higgins placed the card from Colonel Pickering's funeral on the side table and let her eyes rest on it, as reluctant to look away from it as she was to say goodbye to the Colonel.

Trudy stood in the front hall a moment, obviously holding her tongue about something, and then deliberately turned to the Professor and said, "Well, Father?"

Higgins stared at Trudy sternly, which was difficult because he was very proud of her and Reggie. "You did of course notice that there was no one at the church anywhere near your age. It is quite irregular to take youngsters to a memorial service. But I do know that Grandmother was grateful, Trudy, for you speaking for her when she felt overwhelmed by the conversations. And Reggie, I'm sure..." He swallowed for a moment. "... sure Uncle Hugh enjoyed you and your mother giving 'Come Thou Holy Spirit' after the eulogy. It was very well sung. And played, Mrs Higgins." Mrs Higgins smiled and nodded, and turned to wipe her eye. "When I first said the two of you should not go, I was concerned for your comfort. I know how much you loved Uncle Hugh, but a funeral is not a place for children. Adults are too busy taking care of themselves and each other to have time to worry about children. However, I must say that I was impressed with how very well you carried yourselves. I underestimated your maturity. I'm happy to say I was wrong about that."

Mrs Higgins brightened immediately. "Well done, Trudy! I've never been able to get your father to say he was wrong about anything!"

Higgins raised an eyebrow at his wife and sang, "You knew that."

"I did, I did." Mrs Higgins lifted her eyes heavenward in a touch of light supplication.

Hughie and Muriel stood at the foot of the stair to greet their parents when their turn came, but Hughie could not be quiet any longer. "You played the piano, Mum? And I missed it!"

Berenice scurried down the stairs. "Hugh! Is that the proper way to greet your parents?"

Muriel and Hughie took turns kissing their parents, Hughie a bit more efficiently. "Good evening father good evening mum MUM! I wanted to see you play piano!"

"Well, little man," said Mrs Higgins as she picked him up, "it was actually the big church organ. You really would not have been able to see me. And I'd never done it before. I'll have to practice before I'm ready to have you hear."

"How did these rapscallions behave for you, Berenice?"

"A bit rambunctious, Professor, but I got them to calm down and behave good and quick. You need to keep a constant eye on them. I believe they are very nearly civilised at this point."

All four children exchanged conspiratorial smirks. Berenice always took long naps in the middle of the day, leaving them to their liberty, and they were not going to ruin the opportunity by telling their parents about it.

Cook came into the hall. "Tea is ready in the solarium. With butter tarts. I thought we all could do with a lift."

Trudy, Reggie, and Hughie ran to wash up. Muriel hung back with her parents. "Mum, I would like to learn to play the piano like you."

Higgins never missed a chance. "If you mean, young lady, to learn to play the piano in the manner in which your mother learned to play, the answer is absolutely not!"

"Really, Professor! Hush, Muriel, dear, of course you can learn to play. I'll show you what I know, and if we start butting heads like two nanny goats over it, I'll find you a teacher. Would you like that?"

"Hurrah!... In what manner did you learn to play, Mum?"

"We will discuss that later. Now go wash up."

Higgins fell into a wicker chair in the solarium. The parade of various and sundry relatives who were none of them at their best drained him. Much as he loved his wife, she had her foibles as well, and his usual course of action was to unload his exasperation on good old Pickering over a sherry. He'd miss that. He realized he was still wearing his hat and tossed it on the table. Pearce came in with the tea cart and efficiently moved the hat to the endtable to make room for the tea. Hughie just as efficiently grabbed the hat and put it on, and started running laps round the chairs with the other three in hot pursuit.

"Now, don't upend the tea before Grandmother comes, she said she would be along to see us in a bit," said Mrs Higgins in what she hoped was a calming voice. But it just made Hughie shout "Candy candy candy candy!" and the others run and giggle more in anticipation of the sweets that emanated from their grandmother's handbag. "Well, I am happy that you are looking forward to seeing Grandmother… do slow down just a moment, children, I have something exciting to tell you… that's better. Grandmother does not want to live in a big house by herself anymore, so in a short while she will be coming here to live with us."

The children froze, dumbfounded. Grandmother was much more observant and vigilant than Berenice ever was. "Well, that's the end of that then," sighed Reggie.

Higgins sat up. "End of what, please?"

"End of the candy, she surely won't feel like giving us candy anymore," said Trudy quickly, delivering a subtle kick to Reggie's shin.

Mrs Higgins laughed. "Oh, now, I don't believe for a moment that we could stem the sweets tide quite that easily!"

"Father, why is it we called Uncle Hugh Uncle Hugh and not Grandfather?" Reggie was always curious about this, but he thought the diversion wouldn't hurt either.

"The convention is that a grandparent is a parent's parent. Grandmother is my mother. My father died when I was young; he would be your grandfather."

"Oh, that's terribly sad!" said Muriel with a bit of drama. "We never knew our grandfather!"

"Yes, but we knew Uncle Hugh," shouted Hughie, "and that was important for me because of my name, right?"

Trudy stood tall. "And he was a very good grandfather to us even if he wasn't our REAL grandfather! But, then… Mum… " Mrs Higgins held her breath. She knew what was next. "Papa Alfie is your father, right?" Mrs Higgins nodded deliberately. "Then why do we call him Papa Alfie and not Grandfather… or Grand… Anything?"

Mrs Higgins resisted suggesting to call her dad Grand Pain In The Arse and answered, "Papa Alfie loves you very much. He very much enjoys having grandchildren. But he has always been a little uncomfortable with the idea of being a grandfather. I think he feels he is too… young." The Professor snorted.

Mrs Higgins shot him a look and took a deep breath in anticipation of the next question, which came from Hughie. "Then shouldn't we call Daisy Aunt Daisy because she's married to Papa Alfie?" Daisy Skinner was in fact not married to Alfred Doolittle, not for lack of trying. But Doolittle would have to divorce Tilly first, and divorcing Nerissa was sufficiently harrowing (and financially costly) for him that he did not want to go through it again.

Higgins recalled the overpowering odour of gin on Daisy Skinner's breath each time he met her and shot back, "No, because there are some people who are simply not ready and able to handle an influx of extra relatives!"

"Now, Henry, dear, don't be so hard on yourself!" Higgins's mother had appeared in the doorway during the outburst. She leaned on a cane to walk now, but stood straight and tall. The day had been hard, but finally being here with her nearest put a genuine smile on her face. "Oh, and by the way, Eliza, your father stopped by the churchyard, just as we were leaving of course, and he said he would be coming here to call in a little while, to pay his respects, as he put it."

"Splendid, we were just talking about him," pouted Mrs Higgins.

"If it is any consolation, he was by himself at the time, and hopefully is coming for the food and not the drink. Now, let's see…" Mrs Pickering opened her handbag. "I do believe I saw a few peppermint humbugs in here…" The children began running toward her. "...for POLITE CHILDREN." The children stopped, stood up straight, and racewalked toward their grandmother, giggling.

Higgins rolled his eyes, grabbed his hat from Muriel's head as she flew by, and covered his face with it as he slumped in his chair. The day refused to end, and his mother's teasing and the prospect of dealing with Doolittle were not helping. Then he felt a sticky hand on his leg and tentatively picked up the hat a bit. Hughie said, "Here father, I got two!" and affixed a peppermint humbug to his trouser leg before running back to his grandmother for the pear drops that had just been discovered. Higgins examined the fuzzy candy with one eye, then stole a look at Eliza, who returned the look with a raised eyebrow, a wry smile, and a shrug. He put the hat back down, allowing himself a smile and an idea that he'd likely get through this too.