Nesta put her next venture in the form of a question.
"Is that the summer-house mother and the aunts played dolls in?"
"No," said Brenda, "that fell down. This is mine. Grandfather gave it me one birthday."
Everything had the impress of the Dixon children—everything seemed to be "mine" or "Herbert's." It was a depressing morning for the Australians, though Nesta did flatter herself she must have clearly demonstrated her knowledge of Maze Court and pretty well surprised her cousins. It annoyed her that Eustace had been so dumb, and seemingly unable to say more than "yes" or "no" to things. It showed a lack of spirit about him she would not have expected after his sally about the troughs they fed out of with the coolies, and his assertion only that morning that he felt inclined to become a savage and astonish the Dixons.
"I expect he's afraid of Herbert," she thought; "but I'm not."
Eustace was not either, but he was just a little ashamed of his outburst of the evening before. Looked at by light of day it seemed unnecessary waste of temper. He thought Bob would not have thought much of him for it; it was rather babyish.
Oh, how homesick he felt! What wouldn't he have given to have seen Bob walking down one of those wide paths towards them. Good old Bob! Poor old Bob! What would Brenda and Herbert think if they only knew all that story? It was enough to keep the boy silent to have such thoughts as these starting up in his memory again and again; enough to make him ashamed of any pettiness. But the thought of Bob alone had power to do that; he was so big, so splendid, such a man!
Coming out of the gardens into the park they met nurse and Becky.
"Oh," said nurse, looking flushed and flustered, "isn't Master Peter with you? I can't find him anywhere. I just left him while I went to dress Miss Becky, and never thought to tell him to wait for me."
"Peter isn't used to staying in one room," said Eustace quietly. "I guess he is looking for us."