After breakfast she put her hand into her bag to get the chocolates, and big, luscious ones they were. She found Chops's little parcel. It was rolled in a great many pieces of newspaper and tied ever so many times with pieces of wool; but at last it revealed two gold sovereigns, three half-crowns, and ever so many threepenny bits.
'Dear good Chops!' she could not help saying aloud, and her eyes were dim as she thought of him. She put it safely away, and sat down to think and wonder how soon she could pay it all back again. But then, of course, it wasn't spent yet, and Lotty resolved to save it all she could.
A small jewelled clock stood in a case right over the table, and this Lotty now wound up and put right. Sometimes, when the train stopped a few minutes at a station in comparative quiet, this clock could be heard ticking; but whether ticking or not it was really a great comfort to her. She was so glad there was plenty of light. What would she have done had the skylight itself, like the windows, been closed up?
Twenty-four hours; but it would be a long, long day to her with nothing to do! Only, she had been in caravans nearly all her life, and knew from experience that if one lies down the time seems to pass ever so much more quickly. So she found a nice book, and hauling the plaid up over her, for it was none too warm here without a fire, she lay down to read and think and dream day-dreams. But she dropped the book presently and thought she would count these chocolates just to make them last. Oh, what a nice big, deep box! And they were such good ones too, and coyly crisp to the teeth. She found there were twoscore and ten all told. Well, she would have five to begin with. But when these five were done for—five chocolates won't last for ever—she was afraid she must have three more.
Then she resolutely put away the box and as resolutely began to read. She was glad it wasn't a silly love-story, and felt sure that Mr Blake was far above books of that sort. This was a volume of startling adventures far, far away in the wild interior of Borneo. And there were terrible savages in it, who had big holes bored through their ears and their upper lips to carry ugly knives in; and there was much fighting with white men; and there was a poor boy who was carried off to be fattened and eaten by a real cannibal king, but a pretty black princess who took pity on him just as he was nearly fat enough and doomed to be killed, and cooked with curry and rice the very next day. So this princess cut the thongs that bound the poor boy, and took him into the forest, and bade him keep on and on towards the eastern sun, and after many weeks he would come to the big blue sea and be sure to find a boat. But there was a great chase after him, and he was nearly captured many times, and had most astounding adventures, all of which occupied fully two hundred pages; and then, lo! it was one o'clock and time for dinner.
Just one chocolate—no, two, and that would make the other five!
Lotty had a beautiful pie for dinner, which Crona had made for her, and she left the half of it for supper. She had a bottle of nicely made coffee too, though it was cold, besides some fruit. She felt ever so much better now, and took out of her bag some knitting and set vigorously to work.
But she didn't get on very quickly, she had to pause to think so often—sometimes about the camp, and Chops, and Crona, and Wallace, and sometimes about Antony. Also, she spent much time in wondering what sort of a home Chops's mother would give her, and if ever she would see the skipper's wife of the wrecked Cumberland any more.
She put away the knitting at last and had coffee for her tea, with bread and butter and some fruit. Then she sat down to write a letter to Mr Blake, and to confess how wicked it was of her, and how naughty above all things to travel in his beautiful caravan. After she had come to the words, 'This is all at present,' she thought how foolish it looked, so she tore it up and wrote another, and laid it down till she should address the envelope. Then she read it over and found she had spelt saloon with two l's—thus, 'salloon.' 'But has it one "l" or really two?' she said to herself as she began to chew the end of her fountain pen. 'Let me see—balloon has two "l's;" what has saloon or salloon ever done that it shouldn't have two. Oh, bother, I'll tear it up and write one more.'
She wasn't pleased even with that, but she put it in the envelope and dropped it into her bag to be posted. No, she wouldn't though; she took it out again and pinned it to a book, where he would be sure to see it. 'Second thoughts,' she told herself, 'are always best.'