On the platform at the back stood Mr. Noah and Mrs. Noah
“The Queen’s own Ark,” said Lady Grace. “It must have been sent down for somebody. I wonder who.”
“Do you think it could be for a specialist?” Peggy asked. “They do send for them, you know, if anybody is ill.”
“Oh, I do hope her mump isn’t worse,” said Wooden.
“I expect it’s sent down for me,” said Wooden’s aunt, with her vulgar laugh. “She knowed I was coming all right.”
“Now, Polly, behave,” said Wooden’s mother. “Mr. and Mrs. Noah are looking at us.”
Mr. Noah advanced to the side of the Ark and bowed to Wooden. “I have been ordered to bring the Ark down for you and your party,” he said. “I hope we shall have a nice trip up the river.”
Wooden turned to Peggy with a pleased smile on her face. “Now that is an honour,” she said. “I am so pleased, dear. It is a most lovely ark inside.”
Then she asked Mr. Noah how the Queen was, and he shook his head and was just going to tell her how the Queen was when Wooden’s aunt gave a wild whoop, and picking up her skirts ran along the quay, kicking her feet out in front of her, and shouting, “Come on, girls! Here’s larks!”
And I am sorry to say that Teddy joined her, and they danced up the quay together and rushed down the bridge from the bank to the ark, jostling each other and quite spoiling everything by their behaviour.