“To see Uncle Fred? Oh yes, of course. Uncle Fred is sure to ask Phil and me every year. It will be nice to come here sometimes and see you again. I like this place, though perhaps it is a little dull for living in always.”
“I think it’s jolly!” cried Phil. “I like it heaps better than London. However, as I’m at school now, it doesn’t so very much matter to me. Eton is out and out the best place in the world!”
“You like it better than Dr. Steele’s?” said Bertie, gravely; and Phil laughed uproariously at the question, remembering old times there, and his half-triumphant, half-ignominious flight from his old abode just about a year ago.
After the children had satisfied their hunger, the main business of the day began. Eager eyes were fixed upon the rocky ledges of the perpendicular cliff, and the movements of the sea-gulls who frequented the spot were closely watched.
David’s opinion was eagerly waited for. He did not seem to think that there were as many birds as usual building, or at least laying their eggs in this place; but his practised eye discovered one or two places where he felt certain, from the movements of the parent birds, that the young were already hatched; and there were sure to be other nooks where eggs might be found, if a patient and careful search were made.
Phil, who was ambitious, was bent on securing some young birds, and he made David point out the places where he thought these were to be found. Phil made his selection from these, and, although the elder lad shook his head and said he did not think he would ever reach the place, the schoolboy was in no wise daunted by difficulties.
When Phil had begun his cautious climb, and David had left them to hunt for eggs, Queenie, who had been watching her brother’s movements with some attention, turned suddenly upon Bertie, and asked,—
“And what are you going to do?”
Bertie looked rather red, and answered,—
“Nothing.”