"Put your head in and shout," suggested Faith, and Daphne and Keith laughed.
Audrey had to do it. She knew that if she did not Faith would—and when Faith opened a door—well, all there was to see one saw. In a gust of anger she turned the handle and opened the door as little as she could. Oh how she longed for one of the exquisitely neat Dutch kitchens so often seen in pictures.
"Mary!" she called in impatiently, "wherever are you? Do you know what has become of the children?"
Mary heard at last, and hurrying forward to reply, spread the door as hospitably wide as it would go, and stood outlined against a background of dirty pots and pans, a table piled with unwashed dishes, and a litter of torn paper everywhere. She had been so busy packing the baskets for tea that her own work had got more behind than usual.
"I saw them going out of the garden carrying a basket each," she said slowly, eyeing the while with the keenest interest the visitors whom she now saw for the first time. "I thought you had sent them on ahead, perhaps, Miss Audrey."
Mr. Carlyle counted again the baskets on the table. "There are four here. Isn't that the lot?" he asked.
"Yes, sir." Mary looked puzzled. "Then I don't know what they were carrying. I didn't pay much heed, but I'm sure they were carrying some, and heavy ones too."
"Some nonsense or other that they have thought of, I suppose," sighed Audrey wearily, and hurried away. Mary would not close that door as long as they stood there, so the only thing to do was to take the guests away.
"I expect they have gone on to try and find a specially nice spot to have tea in," suggested Faith. "They are always busy about something and they love to give us surprises. Don't you think we had better follow them?"
Mr. Carlyle laughed. "As likely as not they have taken up a load of their toys to help to make a pleasant afternoon for us. Now, can you young people carry two of these baskets between you, if I carry the other two?"