"Well, well," said Grannie. "Times change. We are going to play selections from Faust, with variations. Sleep quietly till tea-time, my dear."
Mollie smiled as she listened to the selections. "—two-three, one-two-three, one—" she could hear the treble counting. "I like it," she murmured to herself rather sleepily—the morning's conversation had not been exciting on her side. "I am glad I am not James, for this is an awfully comfortable sofa—hullo, Prue! You are in a hurry to-day! I was just thinking of a nap—"
Prudence did not answer; she was listening to the piano.
"Mamma sings that," she said. "It's Faust. I adore Faust. Don't you? The waltz simply makes my feet go wild."
"I don't know it," Mollie confessed. "There are so many things I don't know. Hurry up, Prue. I have had such an aged morning; now I want a young afternoon."
"—two-three, one-two-three, one—" said Prue, taking Mollie's hand in her own.
* * * * *
It was very hot. So hot that Mollie could not be bothered to move. She was half-sitting, half-lying on a bed of bracken, and around her she could see the supine forms of four other children—Prudence and Grizzel, Dick and Jerry—all lying in various attitudes of exhaustion and apparently all asleep. Mollie was too lazy to turn her head, but she could see that they were in a wood. The trees were the eternal gum trees, with their monotonous grey trunks and perpetual blue-green foliage. They were not growing in the neighbourly manner of trees in an English wood, nor did they throw the cool green shade of elms and beeches, but still in their own way they formed a wood. Mollie lay with her back propped up against one of the grey trunks, her arms behind her head, and her eyes blinking sleepily. She wondered where Hugh was.
"You are a lazy lot," said a voice behind her. "I have been helping
in the vineyards all morning, and I've discovered a new kind of grape.
Mr. von Greusen thinks it might turn out to be a good champagne grape.
The carts are coming down; don't you want to see them?"
As he spoke Hugh came round and stood at Mollie's side. He wore a coat of tussore silk, and his shirt was open at the neck; a wide pith helmet was on his head, draped with a striped pugaree with broad ends hanging down his back, and further decorated with vine leaves, which looked rather droopy in the heat. He held out a hand to Mollie and pulled her up, looking scornfully at the recumbent figures of Jerry and Dick.