"Oh, good! What a splendid idea!"
Though the girls kept a careful look-out along the road they came across no fairy-tale volume. Either someone else had picked it up, or it had perhaps been dropped in the street at Whitecliffe. Dona wrote home accordingly, and received the reply that her mother would post the book to "The Tamarisks" in the course of a few days. The sisters watched the weather anxiously when their fortnightly exeat came round. They were fascinated with little Eric, and wanted to see him again. They could not forget his pale, wistful face among the parcels in the long perambulator. Luckily their holiday afternoon was fine, so they were allowed to go to their aunt's under the escort of two prefects. They found Elaine ready to start, and much interested in the errand.
"The book came a week ago," she informed Dona. "I expect your young man will be waiting at the tryst."
"He's not due till half-past four—if he keeps the appointment exactly," laughed Dona; "but I've brought a basket to-day, so let's go now to the cove and get specimens while we're waiting."
If the girls were early at the meeting-place the little boy was earlier still. The long perambulator was standing by the roadside when they reached the path to the cove. Lizzie, the servant girl, greeted them with enthusiasm.
"Why, here you are!" she cried. "I never expected you'd come, and I told Eric so. I said it wasn't in reason you'd remember, and he'd only be disappointed. But he's thought of nothing else all this fortnight. He's been ill again, and he shouldn't really be out to-day, because the pram jolts him; but I've got to go to Whitecliffe, and he worried so to come that his ma said: 'Best put on his things and take him; he'll cry himself sick if he's left'."
The little pale face was whiter even than before, there were large dark rings round the brown eyes, and the golden hair curled limply to-day. Eric did not speak, but he looked with a world of wistfulness at the parcel in Dona's hand.
"I couldn't find your book, but I've brought you mine instead, and I expect it's just the same," explained Dona, untying the string.
A flush of rose pink spread over Eric's cheeks, the frail little hands trembled as he fingered his treasure.
"It's nicer than mine! It's got coloured pictures!" he gasped.