‘It means a middle way. You ask your uncle to let us take our lunch out, bread and cheese and cake will do; and to not expect us till tea-time, and perhaps not then. We’ll just go where we think we will, and shut our eyes when we pass signposts and post-offices. We might get lost, you know, but I’d take care of you.’
‘We mustn’t disturb the Uncle,’ Caroline reminded them. ‘We promised. Not for a week.’
‘Write him a letter,’ said Rupert. And this is the letter they wrote. At least Caroline wrote it and they all signed their names.
‘Dearest Uncle’ (‘Dearest is rot,’ said Charles, looking at Rupert to be sure that he thought so too; ‘put Dear’).
‘But Dear is rottener,’ answered Caroline, going on; ‘it’s what you say to the butcher when you write about the ribs that ought to have been Sir Something. I know.’
Please may we go out for the day and take our lunch, bread and cheese and cake would do, Rupert says he will take care of us, and not expect us home till tea, and perhaps not then, with love
Caroline
Charlotte
Charles.
‘Rupert can’t sign because he’s “he” in the letter. Only the “we’s” can sign,’ said Caroline. And Harriet took the letter to the Uncle, and the Uncle wrote back:
By all means. I am sure you will remember not to administer spells internally or externally to any one you may meet. Be home by half-past six. If anything should detain you, send a telegram. I enclose 2s. 6d. for incidental expenses.—Your dearest