'A frog,' said Peterkin. He had enchanted frogs on the brain just then, I believe.
'No,' said Margaret, 'that wouldn't be so bad, for I'd be able to jump about, and there's nothing I love as much as jumping about, especially in water,' and her eyes sparkled with a sort of mischief which I had seen in them once or twice before. 'No, it would be something much horrider—a dormouse, perhaps. I should hate to be a dormouse.
'You shan't be changed into a dormouse or—or anything,' said Peterkin, with a burst of indignation.
'Thank you, Perkins,' Margaret replied; 'but please go now and remember—Wednesday.'
We ran off, and though we thought we had only been a minute or two at Rock Terrace, after all we were not home much too early.
'We must be careful on Wednesday,' I said. 'I'm afraid my watch is rather slow.'
WE HAD NO DIFFICULTY IN FINDING HER BATH-CHAIR.—p. 108.
'Dinner isn't always quite so pumptual on Wednesdays,' said Pete, 'with its being a half-holiday, you know.'
It turned out right enough on Wednesday.