" "P.S. Lots, please, because some of us are very
hungry."
It was found difficult, but possible, for Mabel to creep along the
tunnel in the yew-hedge. Possible, but slow, so that the three had
hardly had time to settle themselves among the rhododendrons and
to wonder bitterly what on earth Gerald was up to, to be such a
time gone, when he returned, panting under the weight of a
covered basket. He dumped it down on the fine grass carpet,
groaned, and added, "But it's worth it. Where's our Mabel?"
The long, pale face of Mabel peered out from rhododendron
leaves, very near the ground.
"I look just like anybody else like this, don't I?" she asked
anxiously; "all the rest of me's miles away, under different bushes."
"We've covered up the bits between the bushes with bracken and
leaves," said Kathleen, avoiding the question; "don't wriggle,
Mabel, or you'll waggle them off."
Jimmy was eagerly unpacking the basket. It was a generous tea. A
long loaf, butter in a cabbage-leaf, a bottle of milk, a bottle of
water, cake, and large, smooth, yellow gooseberries in a box that
had once held an extra-sized bottle of somebody's matchless
something for the hair and moustache. Mabel cautiously advanced
her incredible arms from the rhododendron and leaned on one of
her spindly elbows, Gerald cut bread and butter, while Kathleen
obligingly ran round, at Mabel's request, to see that the green
coverings had not dropped from any of the remoter parts of
Mabel's person.
Pages:
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210