"What a pity one is not a person of simple pleasures!" remarked Lady Haslemere. "There is an old gentleman there who takes more delight in his silly little boat than you do in the prospect of solvency, or Haslemere even in a new wire puzzle. How happy he must be and how dull! I think dulness is really synonymous with happiness. Think of cows! You never found an absorbing cow, nor an unhappy one. The old gentleman has eaten a good breakfast; he will eat a good lunch. And he has probably got a balance at his bank."
"It's all stomach," said Kit regretfully—"all except the balance, I mean."
"Yes, that's what it comes to. So we shall play detectives to-night, Kit."
Kit started; she was absorbed in the toy yacht.
"Detectives? Oh, certainly," she replied. "But I almost wish we were wrong about the whole concern."
"The mine man cheated," said Alice, with decision. "I was thinking of asking Tom whether he saw."
"Oh, don't do that," said Kit. "We don't want a scandal. Look!"
A squall shattered the reflections in the calm water, and the old gentleman's toy yacht bowed to it and skimmed off like a swallow.
"Oh, how nice!" cried Kit, who was rapidly taking the colour of her surroundings. "Alice, shall we save up our money and buy a little toy yacht? Think how happy we should be!"
"If you are going to play the milkmaid, Kit," said Alice severely, "I shall go home. I won't play milkmaid for anybody. Playing gooseberry to Toby is nothing to it."