"The liquorice jujube takes its colour from the liquorice, which is a vegetable and wholesome."
Then the purchase was made, and they sauntered back—Elsa slowly becoming sticky, and Peters smiling abundantly.
Peters was lonely no longer while Elsa's holiday lasted. As a rule she made suggestions, and he acted upon them. She wanted to know why he never went on the river; so one afternoon he took her. A man from the boat-house rowed them.
"Why don't you row yourself?" asked Elsa.
"Because," Peters answered, as he ran the boat's nose hard into a thorn bush, "I have to steer. Mind your head—I took that a little too close."
The man from the boat-house backed them out. Similar incidents had occurred frequently since Peters took the lines. At the boatman's suggestion he now relinquished them.
In the course of her holiday Mrs Markham, so Elsa said, died; she was buried under the plane tree. Peters dug the grave with his pocket-knife and a portion of a broken tea-cup. When the funeral service was over Peters produced a toy cricket set, and proposed a game. Elsa went in, and Peters bowled. After an hour and a half she retired hot; she was not out. Peters had bowled her twice, but on each occasion the ball was disqualified by the umpire. Elsa was the umpire. On the first occasion he had forgotten to say play, and on the second he had bowled faster than the rules of cricket permitted. Peters did not get an innings—that was characteristic of him.
On Sundays Peters took Elsa to church. She refused to go more than once a Sunday, because her father went only once; if she went twice, she explained, it would be like saying that her father was a bad man; and he was a very good man. Peters asked her what prayers she said night and morning.
"I used to have special ones," she said, "but I've forgotten them. Besides, I'm too old for them; they were baby things. Now I say any colic out of the prayer-book. They're all good."