'The very end of England, I s'pose—near the sea.'
'I've never seen the sea,' said Bobby.
'Fancy! Why we came right through it all the way from 'Merica. I'll ask dad to take us to the seashore one day. He loves a day out, and so do I. I wish he had his motor.'
'Yes,' sighed Bobby, 'we never does nothing nice now, and if it hadn't been for this horrid old rain we'd have gone to tea with Miss Robsart.'
'Well, p'raps she'll ask us to-morrow. Look at that funny old woman, Bobby, she's trying to hold up her umbrella and drag her dog with a string and hold up her dress with the same hand. There! Now look, the dog has got between her legs! Oh, there she goes! Oh, look! she's tumbled right over, and there's a gentleman picking her up!'
Bobby pressed his face against the glass to see the catastrophe. Then he started.
'It—it strikes me that's Master Mortimer.'
'Oh, where? Isn't he your uncle?'
'Yes, it's him! It's him! Oh, True, let's run out and bring him in!'
'Is it the gentleman who picked the old lady up? He's looking across at this house now. He's coming, Bobby, he's coming to see us!'