Esther looked a little puzzled, but, of course, never dreamt of connecting the flying figure with Judy.
And the Captain seemed delightfully blind and unsuspicious. He lay down on the grass and let the General swarm all over him; he made jokes with Esther; he told several stories of his young days, and never even seemed to remark that his audience seemed inattentive and constrained.
"Haven't you made some tea?" Esther said at last. "We love billy tea, and thought you would be sure to have some?"
"Bunty hasn't come, he was to have brought the billy," Pip said, half sulkily. He had suspicions that there was something behind this great affability of his father, and he objected to being played with.
"Ah," the Captain said gravely, "that is unfortunate. When I came away Bunty did not seem very well, and was thinking of spending the rest of the day in his bedroom."
Pip made up the fire in a dogged way, and Meg flashed a frightened glance at her father, who smiled affectionately back at her.
After an hour of this strained intercourse the Captain proposed a return home.
"It is growing chill," he said. "I should be grieved for the General's new-born tooth to start its life by aching—let's go home and make shift with teapot tea."
So they gathered up the untouched baskets and made themselves into a procession.
The Captain insisted on Pip and Meg walking with him, and he sent Baby and Nell on in front, one on either side of Esther, who was alternately leading and carrying the General.