“I can’t do it on only one side,” she announced, with an air of disappointment. “I scream with all my mouth at once. Daddy, tell me how to.”
“Oh dear, no; we don’t want to have you practising screaming all day long. Besides, I couldn’t now; why, I haven’t done such a thing since I was a boy! Now fly! If you are not ready in five minutes I shall have to start without you.”
Loveday vanished in a flash, shouting for “Nurse! Nurse!” all the way she ran.
“Quick, quick, Nurse! Do hurry!” they heard her calling frantically. “Dress me quickly; I am going with daddy, and he won’t wait more than a minute;” and then they heard Nurse running, as most people did run when Loveday called.
In a very short time she appeared again, with a dainty pink shawl pinned about her neck and mouth, and in her hand a little pink parasol with white may-blossom all over it.
“It matches my shawl, Nurse said,” she explained gravely, “and the shawl is rather hot, so I thought I’d bring this to keep me cool. I do think it is so lovely,” she went on, gazing admiringly at the parasol—which was just a size larger than her hat—and particularly at the handle, which had a little bunch of red egglets at the top.
It certainly was a pretty little thing; it had been a birthday present, and when it came had filled Loveday with joy and Priscilla with longing that her birthday could be changed from December to May, which was Loveday’s month.
“Now jump up,” said Dr. Carlyon. “Hocking is waiting to fasten you in.”
Hocking lifted up Loveday, but Priscilla climbed up by herself, and seated herself outside Loveday, and then Hocking passed the strap around them, and fastened them in safely.
“I don’t think I need be strapped in,” said Priscilla. “I am old enough now not to have it.”