"You'll go all in good time, poor old Baba," said Dona. "You wouldn't like to be in a form all by yourself, without any other little girls, and there's no room for a preparatory unless they build, and that's not possible in war-time. You must peg on for a while with Miss Hazelwood, and then perhaps Mother'll send you to a day school. After all, you know, it's something to be the youngest in the family. You score over that."
Both Marjorie and Dona were looking forward to the summer term. Those of their chums who were old Brackenfielders had dwelt strongly on its advantages compared with the autumn or spring terms. It was the season for cricket and tennis, for country walks, picnics, and natural history excursions. Most of the activities were arranged for out of doors, and a larger amount of liberty was allowed the girls than had been possible during the period of short days.
Armed each with a cricket bat and a tennis racket, not to mention cameras, butterfly nets, collecting-boxes, and botanical cases, they arrived at their respective hostels and unpacked their possessions. Marjorie was the last comer in No. 9, and found Chrissie with her cubicle already neatly arranged, Sylvia with her head buried in her bottom drawer, and Betty struggling with straps. The two latter were pouring out details of their holiday adventures.
"I rode in to town every day, and did Mother's shopping for her; and we went to a sale and bought the jolliest little governess car and harness."
"We were going to Brighton, only Mother was so afraid of bombs on the south coast, so Daddy said it was safer to stop at home; and I was glad, because we'd spent last Christmas at Grannie's, so I really hadn't seen very much of home."
"Dick got a week's leave, and we'd an absolutely gorgeous time!"
"James and Vincent brought two school friends home with them—such ripping boys!"
"We went out boating on the lake."
"And we went to the cinema nearly every day."
"What have you been doing, Marjorie?" asked Chrissie.