Tony ran to Jan and under all the din contrived to say: "It's the big bath; she's frightened. Ayah never put her in the big bath."
Meg had forgotten this. The little tin bath they had brought from India for the voyage stood in a corner.
It was filled, while Fay, wrapped in a Turkish towel, sobbed more quietly, ejaculating between the gurgles: "Nasty hat, nasty Engliss Ayah. I want my own deah Ayah!"
When the bath was ready poor Meg again approached little Fay, but Fay would have none of her.
"No," she wailed, "Engliss Ayah in nasty hat not wass me. Tony wass me, deah Tony."
She held out her arms to her brother, who promptly received her in his.
"You'd better let me," he said to the anxious young women. "We'll never get her finished else."
So it ended in Tony's being arrayed in the flannel apron which, tied under his arm-pits, was
not so greatly too long. With his sleeves turned up he washed his small sister with thoroughness and despatch, pointing out somewhat proudly that he "went into all the corners."