‘Oh,’ said Miss Peasmarsh, radiantly, ‘don’t bother about the carpet. I’ve sold even that. Mrs Biddle gave me ten shillings for it. She said it would do for her servant’s bedroom.’
‘Why,’ said Jane, ‘her servants don’t HAVE carpets. We had cook from her, and she told us so.’
‘No scandal about Queen Elizabeth, if YOU please,’ said the curate, cheerfully; and Miss Peasmarsh laughed, and looked at him as though she had never dreamed that any one COULD be so amusing. But the others were struck dumb. How could they say, ‘The carpet is ours!’ For who brings carpets to bazaars?
The children were now thoroughly wretched. But I am glad to say that their wretchedness did not make them forget their manners, as it does sometimes, even with grown-up people, who ought to know ever so much better.
They said, ‘Thank you very much for the jolly tea,’ and ‘Thanks for being so jolly,’ and ‘Thanks awfully for giving us such a jolly time;’ for the curate had stood fish-ponds, and bran-pies, and phonographs, and the chorus of singing birds, and had stood them like a man. The girls hugged Miss Peasmarsh, and as they went away they heard the curate say—
‘Jolly little kids, yes, but what about—you will let it be directly after Easter. Ah, do say you will—’
And Jane ran back and said, before Anthea could drag her away, ‘What are you going to do after Easter?’
Miss Peasmarsh smiled and looked very pretty indeed. And the curate said—
‘I hope I am going to take a trip to the Fortunate Islands.’
‘I wish we could take you on the wishing carpet,’ said Jane.