She knew before it came what the answer would be.
"Oh, Lilly. Lilly, of course," said Joan, always ready to be spokeswoman. "Lilly made us promise to do exactly as she told us before we went."
"She timed us," said Bill.
"Yes," Joan went on, "wasn't it a good plan? Lilly put her watch on a rock and gave us five minutes to undress in, and a quarter of an hour to stay in the sea, and ten minutes to dress in. Bill and Humphrey were in the gentlemen's dressing-room, of course—that's what we call the other little bay—and Lilly had to roar out to them, 'one minute more only,'—'two minutes more,' just like a railway man at a station. It was such fun, and—"
"My dear Joan, you will never eat your dinner if you chatter so," said her mother, "and we can't wait for you. I am going a long drive this afternoon, and I shall only just have time," and Mamma looked at her watch. "I hope I am a little fast," she added. "What time do you make it, Lilly dear? Your watch is always to be relied on."
Lilly's hand instinctively went to her watch-pocket—then she suddenly looked up with a rather startled expression.
"My watch!" she exclaimed. "I must have left it up stairs. Mamma—might I run up for a moment and see, if you don't mind?"
Mamma nodded. She knew that Lilly's watch was one of the girl's most prized treasures. It was a handsome, though rather bulky one, which had been left to her by her godmother, and Lilly cared for it both because she had loved her godmother, and also for its own sake. It kept excellent time, and never got out of order as the little fairy-like watches that are now the fashion are rather apt to do.
Lilly's moment extended to several minutes without her coming back, and the faces round the table grew rather concerned-looking.