‘And now,’ said Caroline, ‘we’ve just got to wait, and Charlotte and I must stick to our glove and handkerchief cases if they’re going to be ready to go in time for mother’s birthday. And, Charles, if I were you, I should get Mr. Penfold to show you chip-carving like he offered to, and do a box for her. And we mustn’t forget that we’re not to look behind the curtain.’
‘I shan’t forget that,’ said Charlotte. ‘What I should like to forget’s my head. It feels twice its proper size.’
‘I’ve got a headache too,’ said Caroline. ‘I expect it’s the sun.’
‘If it was the sun, mine would ache too,’ said Charles, ‘but with me it’s the nose. I’ve had four hankies since breakfast; and one of those was the Wilmington’s.’
‘Well, let’s go and get on with our embroidery. All my silks are frightfully tangled.’
They were not disentangled that day. The headaches were worse. I will not dwell on the development of the catastrophe. The doctor put it in a few brief, well-chosen words the next day:
‘The girls have got measles right enough, and the boy hasn’t yet.’