“Where have you been?” they cried and “What on earth?” and “Why, you’re all wet, France.”
“Down to the sea—shut up, I know I am—” their elder brother came in and passed up the path to the gate.
“You might have called us,” said Kathleen in a more-in-sorrow-than-in-anger sort of voice, “but anyhow you’ve lost something by going out so early without us.”
“Lost something. What?”
“Hearing the great news,” said Bernard, and he added, “Aha!”
“What news?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Bernard was naturally annoyed at having been left out of the first expedition of the holidays. Anyone would have. Even you or I.
“Out with it,” said Francis, with a hand on Bernard’s ear. There came a yell from Bernard and Mother’s voice from the window, saying, “Children, children.”
“All right, Mummy. Now, Bear—don’t be a young rotter. What’s the news?”