‘It just slid off the plate when I wasn’t looking,’ said Barbara, penitently. ‘I can’t think why it didn’t slide on to my frock instead of yours.’
A chorus of merriment rang from behind.
‘You ridiculous Babe!’ shouted Peter. ‘Why, the butter is tired of being spilled down your frock.’
Jill jumped to her feet, and blushed a little. As Kit had predicted, she found it much easier to get on with her cousins when she took them ‘separately, or in pairs’; and she was not used yet to facing them all at once. The sound of wheels outside gave her an excuse for escape, and she put her arm hurriedly round Babs.
‘Come upstairs and put on your hat,’ she suggested, and the two girls hastened out of the room.
Auntie Anna saw to it that the farewells were not prolonged, and Barbara found herself whirled into the covered wagonette with her last words only half said. Kit was allowed time to whisper a gruff apology for being cross with her before tea, but the others had to follow her to the front door to shout their good-byes after her.
‘Don’t get the blues because we are not there!’ cried Wilfred.
‘I’ll write great lots of times,’ declared Robin, who was in tears. ‘I won’t even wait for the lines to be ruled, Babs dear. You won’t mind the spelling, will you? ’Cause it saves so much time if you don’t.’
‘Cheer up!’ was all Egbert said; and Barbara wondered if she was very hard-hearted, because she was not half so wretched as they all expected her to be. Peter even made her laugh outright, as he sprang on the step of the carriage, and went a little way down the drive with them.
‘Don’t funk it, old girl!’ he shouted through the window. ‘And just send for us, if anything goes wrong!’