I worked hard. Sorted everything; filled the Gladstone with clean linen, guide books, foods, papers, etc., strapped it, and then, feeling the incarnation of industry and pride, threw myself on that precious deck-chair to rest and read.
Presently my sister danced into the room. I told her of my virtue, received her congratulations and thanks, beamed with delight at my success, and answered her question as to the whereabouts of her bathing cap that "I had never seen it."
"Strange," she said, "I feel sure I left it on the window-sill to dry last night as usual, and it has gone, and I want a swim."
We both looked. We went down into the courtyard and scrambled among the lilac bushes immediately below the window. Finally, we decided it had been left on the tree at the bathing ground the night before. So off she went round that dangerous edge to find the cap. It was not there.
We called Grandpapa—Grandpapa called the Vahtimestari—the Vahtimestari called his under man; every one explained to every one else what was missing. At last the custodian remarked—
"Oh, now I understand what you mean; that sponge bag which lies beside the bathing dresses to dry; I didn't know what you meant by 'cap to bathe.'"
"Yes, yes, that is it," replied Grandpapa; "where is it?"
"I don't know."
"But it must be found. This lady dives and swims under water, and her long hair would get wet without it."
And so we looked, and looked, and all looked again.