The rain had ceased, but it was still cool and cloudy, and the children shivered a little as they stood leaning against the railing, and looked down at the crowd of people and vehicles on the pier.
“It does feel sort of queer to be wearing the same clothes you’ve had on all night,” Geraldine admitted, with a sigh. “Lots of things aren’t as nice when they really happen as people think they’re going to be beforehand. I wonder if that’s what Mother means by learning by experience.”
Jerry nodded.
“I guess it is,” he said, “but I don’t think I like learning by experience as much as being punished. I say, let’s ask Mother to go back to the old way. I don’t care much about the Law of Love, anyway; I’d rather have one good punishment, and get it over with; this learning by experience business isn’t much fun.”
Just then there was an exclamation from Gretel.
“Look, oh, look; isn’t that your father on the pier?”
In another second the twins were literally hanging over the railing; their hands waving, their voices raised in wild shouts of excitement.
“Father, Father, here we are,” they yelled, jumping up and down in their sudden joy and relief. “Oh, Father dear, we’re so glad you’ve come, too. Please, please take us back in the train.”
“Isn’t that your father on the pier?”—Page [195].