At this point, with disconcerting suddenness, the rain began to fall. Hastily the luncheon basket was repacked and Miss Margaret, Miss Dorothea and Ruthie ran to the shelter of a coach-house near by, where they were given permission to stay. Tommy remained behind and resumed his digging in the sand. When no notice was taken of his absence, he decided that making castles in the rain was poor sport. Accordingly he rejoined his party and found them merrily continuing the interrupted lunch.
Confidently he approached Miss Margaret, asking for “a split an’ cream, please.”
“But I can’t give you a split,” she said, “you were to have it when you’d eaten the bread and butter, and not until then.”
“I did eat the bread and butter in my hand.”
“What about the piece in the sand?”
Then Miss Margaret had seen him tread on it: this was unexpected.
“Couldn’t help droppin’ ’e,” he said, now almost tearfully.
“But why did you bury it deep down in the sand?”
“I thought somebody might come along an’ not know, an’ pick ’e up an’ eat ’e, an’ it wouldn’t be nice for they.”
“Very well,” said Miss Margaret, “I’ll give you another piece exactly the same size, and when you’ve eaten that you can have splits and cream and just whatever you like.”