“Ah, don’t let the dream end now!” pleaded the learned gentleman.
“It must,” said Anthea firmly, and kissed him again.
“When it comes to people dying,” said Robert, “good-bye! I’m so glad you’re rich and famous and happy.”
“Do come!” cried Jane, stamping in her agony of impatience.
And they went. Old Nurse brought in tea almost as soon as they were back in Fitzroy Street. As she came in with the tray, the girls rushed at her and nearly upset her and it.
“Don’t die!” cried Jane, “oh, don’t!” and Anthea cried, “Dear, ducky, darling old Nurse, don’t die!”
“Lord, love you!” said Nurse, “I’m not agoin’ to die yet a while, please Heaven! Whatever on earth’s the matter with the chicks?”
“Nothing. Only don’t!”
She put the tray down and hugged the girls in turn. The boys thumped her on the back with heartfelt affection.
“I’m as well as ever I was in my life,” she said. “What nonsense about dying! You’ve been a sitting too long in the dusk, that’s what it is. Regular blind man’s holiday. Leave go of me, while I light the gas.”