Pippa gave a huge sigh.
“How lovely!” she said. “Just you, and Monsieur Dan, and Monsieur Alan, and Mademoiselle Aurora. Just you four. I s’pose ze tent will be quite tiny. Only just big enough for Mademoiselle Aurora. Not a teeny bit more room in it. Not even enough room for Mimsi”—Mimsi was the grey kitten—“and most certainly not enough room for—for me.”
Barnabas laughed. He looked at Miss Mason. The idea conveyed by Pippa in this flagrant hint had occurred to him.
Pippa heard something in the laugh that made her heart beat hopefully.
“I am,” she said reflectively, “not very big. Or,” she continued, “a cart would be a very nice ting to sleep in. I wonder what it feels like to sleep in a cart.”
“Time you went to bed,” said Miss Mason grimly.
Pippa got up reluctantly. “Bon soir, Monsieur Barnabas,” she said, with a little sigh. “I wonder if Mademoiselle Aurora can darn holes in men’s socks. Madame Barbin taught me to darn—oh, but to darn very beautifully. Much walking will no doubt make many holes.”
Barnabas telegraphed a question to Miss Mason.
“You’d get tired walking,” said Miss Mason gruffly.
Pippa looked dubious. “I am not ver’ ’eavy. I could perhaps ride in ze cart just sometimes. Besides,” she ended hopefully, “it is ver’ good to be tired. One sleep well at night.”