Jill tossed her head and went on cutting bread and butter still, with her back turned to them all. ‘Next time you try to save any one from any one else,’ she remarked, ‘you’d better make sure first that she does want saving.’
Anything they might have said in reply to this was drowned by the noisy entrance of Christopher. He bounced into the room and shook his fist wrathfully at his brothers.
‘Look here, you fellows!’ he shouted. ‘Next time you shut a chap into a pig-sty, perhaps you’ll choose a pig-sty that doesn’t belong to a pig that comes home at tea-time and bangs against the door. I’d like to––’
He was brought to an abrupt pause. It suddenly struck him that there was something a little odd about the way every one was assembled in the Babe’s room.
‘Dry up, Kit!’ said Wilfred, with a huge sigh. ‘You were quite right; the game wasn’t worth it. She didn’t want to be saved, after all.’
‘She’s just a girl,’ added Peter, in a tone of deep dejection.
‘She’s a princess!’ insisted Barbara, from the sofa.
Christopher looked swiftly round the room. The attitude of every one seemed a little strained. Jill was cutting enough bread and butter for a school, and the crumbs flew in all directions as she stood there with her back to them all. The Doctor was smiling in a way that was clearly put on, and Bobbin was examining his watch-chain with a familiarity that would not have seemed possible an hour ago.
‘Well, I’m bothered!’ said Kit, at last. The truth was gradually dawning upon him. ‘Do you mean to say that you two have been and gone and got engaged, while we’ve been trying to save you?’ he demanded. ‘Have you, Jill?’
‘Oh, don’t bother,’ grumbled Jill. ‘Why can’t you ask Dr. Hurst?’