“Do you get sea-sick going to Mosman?” asked Eva. “Because that’s where Uncle’s going to take the cottage; and it’d be terrible if we were sea-sick every time we went to town.”
“I’m dying to see the crowds and crowds of people,” said Eileen. “But it’ll be hard not to talk to them. Up here people would think you funny if you didn’t speak to them, even if they are strangers.”
“I wish we could take the sticks,” sighed Doris.
“Pretty sights they’d be!” said Eileen. “You couldn’t ride them down there. You’ll be able to ride boats and trams instead.”
So the stick horses were laid away, rolled up in paper, till their little owners returned.
Already Eileen felt quite the “lady,” as she was fitted for her new frocks, and talked nothing but Sydney.
“Did you hear we’re going to spend the rest of the summer in Sydney, Teddy?” she remarked, carelessly, to the mailman, as he drank his tea.
“In Sydney?” gasped Ted. “Bli’ me, I never heard a word about it.”
“Yes, we’re going the week after next,” she replied, coolly, as though going to Sydney were the most usual thing in the world. “Mamma and all of us, and later Dadda and Frank are coming for a while.”
“Bli’ me!” gasped Ted again. “The bloomin’ family’s going! Well, this is news! I suppose that’s why I’ve been carrying so many parcels for you lately,” he said, a light suddenly dawning on him. “Where are you goin’ to stay down there?”