Mrs. Carlyon explained to the man where she wanted him to take the box, and paid him; and when he had gone, and she had gathered up the little things she wished to carry herself, she and Loveday started to follow. Outside the station, Loveday stopped and looked about her.
“Come along, darling,” said mother rather impatiently. “What are you looking for? This is the way. I want to go to one or two shops first.”
“I was looking for Shanks and his mare,” she explained, “to take us to Bessie’s.”
“‘I’ll take Thomas,’ she said.”
“I don’t think the station-master need have laughed like that,” she said indignantly, as, a moment later, they walked quickly away. “Everybody makes mistakes, and we don’t call legs by such silly names at home, and—and one can’t know everything. Even grown-ups don’t know everything, but they do laugh at such silly things. I don’t see anything funny in it.”
“No, I don’t suppose you do, dear. But look! here is a fine shop,” said Mrs. Carlyon, drawing up before a window full of toys, and china, and a few books, and some boxes of chocolates, and a long string of tin buckets all painted different colours. “We will go in, shall we? I want to get you a spade and bucket.”
“Oh, thank you!” gasped Loveday. “How lovely!” and she forgot in a moment all her troubles and the trying habit grown-ups have of laughing at nothing.
Some of the buckets had names painted on their sides.
“Have you one with ‘Loveday’ on it?” she asked eagerly of the woman who came out to serve them.