It seemed safe enough.
The group of ladies was to be seen at some little distance now; they were returning towards the house by the proper road, which it would be easy for the children to avoid.
And in her satisfaction, Freda gave a loud "cooey"—much louder than was needed, as her companions were close by.
Out popped all the heads from below the bridge, but before their owners had time to begin to climb the bank, they were stopped by a "Hush," and an energetic shake of the head from Freda, who next, greatly to their surprise, flopped straight down among the high grass at the top, and lay there motionless and quite flat.
The reason of this was soon explained. Again came the cry—"Nell-y! Will-ie! Nell-y!" from Mrs. Frere, and a whistle, which Hugh Kingley whispered to the others was his sister Sybil's.
"They've heard Freda's 'cooey,'" he said. "What a goose she was to call so loud!"
Again there was nothing for it but to stay quiet, which was becoming very tiresome.
The Frere children began to think that their ideas of "great fun," and the Kingleys', did not at all agree.
"Wasting all the afternoon in this nasty damp hole, and risking Leigh's getting really ill," thought Helena.