Nostalgia-drenched record of a perfect present as experienced by the author- when as a little girl she lived with her Grandparents in Ireland- perfect that is until the governesses came. For little Lulu, orphaned, together with Charles and Peter, whose parents lived in the East, knew the golden days of a country house, a town house, and the seaside, and, in spite of Grandma's having to the line of duty and responsibility, punctuality and politeness -- and no arguing -- was in on the help's high pitched emotionalism, the conflicts of other than her Presbyterian religion, knew the Ireland of the jaunting car, the eccentrics who were accepted so easily, the thinkers, a ""buy-cycle"" imported by an aunt, nightmares caused by a dour maid (married off by Grandma) and many another local and national conditioning. And always her Scottish grandfather and a Grandma whose enterprises were mostly successful (when not, failure could be turned to advantage) and whose firm attitude was tempered with an unadmitted understanding. Then -- the passing of the old order, with Grandpa's death and the change in the family's way of life. Unashamed sentiment of pre-World War I years, this is diffuse but dream-like, laden with toothsome food and recipes, alive with the smell and feel of the country she knew. Never coy, never trying for humor, the innocence here has sincerity and simplicity.