“Are we going on right through the season?”
“Well, you know, Ju, the season doesn’t make much difference to us.”
“It’s going to,” said Julia.
“Is it going to this season?” Maudie demanded. “That’s the question—is it going to this season?”
“I don’t see why not. We’ve got any amount of invitations for next month, and not more than a third of them are in the Park. A third? A quarter, I should say. Now I’ll tell you what I propose doing.”
“Well?”
“I propose, as it is the regulation thing to do, to chuck our ‘day’ until next autumn.”
“Julia!” Maudie was so taken back that she was surprised into giving her sister her full name, the diminutive thereof not seeming to express sufficiently what was in her mind.
“You may say ‘Julia,’ but my head is screwed on the right way. I suppose I shall never get mother and the dad to move away from Ye Dene.”
“From the Park?”