"Where is she?" came the commanding voice at the front door.
"You have to be more specific," sniffed the butler, who was rather shocked to have a nun standing in front of him.
"Rosmarie! I need to see her now!"
Franz stood impassively.
"Sister Berthe!" Brigitta exlaimed, having just come from the library. "What brings you here?"
"Your little sister is ill and I am here to bring her back to health."
Franz rolled his eyes. Sister Berthe glared at him.
"We are all taking turns holding her up because she sleeps better that way.
Come with me."
As they ascended the stairs Brigitta said, "I take it you don't like Franz too much."
"Absolutely not."
As they entered the nursery Maria was sitting in a rocking chair with Rosmarie.
"Oh, Sister Berthe!"
Maria stood up and nearly fell down from shock and tiredness.
"Rosmarie is ill?"
"Yes, Sister." Maria nervously stroked the sleeping baby's back.
"Get some rest. I will take care of her for now."
Maria hesitated.
"This floor is well-polished."
Sister Berthe suddenly had her hands full of sick baby.
****Flashback****
Georg rubbed Maria's very pregnant belly.
"So, we are certain on the name if it's a girl, and the odds are very good it will be
a girl?"
"Yes, Captain, and I thank you for that."
"Well, if it wasn't for the Reverend Mother I wouldn't have you. Although Reverend Mother von Trapp
is a mouthful."
Maria laughed. "It is good to have a few informants in the Abbey. I'm sure she will be delighted."
Eight weeks later, Georg personally paid a visit to the Abbey.
"Captain von Trapp, how is Maria?"
One of the things he liked about the Reverend Mother was her straightforwardness.
"She is very well, as is our Rosmarie."
He watched as the Reverend Mother covered her mouth in shock, and then wiped away sudden tears.
"Maria was insistent that if our baby was a girl that we would name her after you.
We consider you to be an honorary grandmother. She wanted you to know right away."
Six weeks later the entire populace of the Abbey was present for the christening of Rosmarie von Trapp.
****Present****
It helped that Rosmarie was rather fond of Sister Berthe. In her year of life she had visited the Abbey frequently
and she was welcomed with open arms. She may have crawled the entire length and breadth of the place. The Reverend Mother
was always happy to see her, as were the other nuns.
Maria was suspicious of Sister Berthe, though. It almost seemed like she wanted to
encourage her daughter to be naughty.
And now Sister Berthe was in her house, taking care of her.
It was day three. Rosmarie was getting better, but Sister Berthe was adamant that she would stay until she was fully
recovered. The Reverend Mother would not be happy otherwise.
The seven other children who resided in the house thought she was wonderful. She told incredible stories. Georg liked her
because not only was she helping an overworked Maria, she would be an excellent weapon against any boy he didn't like
who got near Liesl and he would call upon her in the future.
Franz still didn't like her. The feeling was mutual.
Frau Schmidt thought her to be rather demanding with regard to the baby's needs, but since she and Franz didn't get along
she liked her.
Max, who had suddenly come to visit, soon earned her wrath and he fled to the study to complain.
"Georg! You have a nun living in your house!"
"Indeed I do. I assume you got under her skin?"
"All I wanted to do was hold your little girl. But I was accosted by a nun who was adamant that holding a glass of brandy
and holding a baby at the same time were incompatible."
Georg laughed.
"Yes, I can understand. If it helps, she despises Franz."
"Well then, I know the standard I need to exceed."
Max, sans glass, was soon able to hold Rosmarie, although he was under a watchful eye.
Three days later, Sister Berthe returned to the Abbey. Three days after that, Rosmarie paid a visit, much to the delight of the Reverend Mother.
It turned out that Sister Berthe became a regular visitor to the villa, sometimes to intimidate suitors,
sometimes to check upon a sick child, and sometimes just to annoy Franz.