"Well, I don't know; it might."
"Then put it in the hold-all; it will be all right there."
"I can't understand why it can't go in the medicine bag; it always has at other times," said Mrs. Ogden discontentedly. "And it's Bobbie's special mixture; I can only get it at one place."
"Bobbie won't die, Mother, if he has to live for three weeks on Hyde's or Spratt's or something; there's lots of seed at the grocers at Lynton, I've often seen it."
But Mrs. Ogden persisted. "We must find room in the bag for it, my dear."
"I will not unpack the whole of that bag for any bird," said Joan untruthfully; if there had been the least necessity she would not only have unpacked the bag but the entire luggage for Bobbie's sake.
2
They got off at last, and were actually in the Barnstaple train; bags, wraps, bird-cage and all.
Mrs. Ogden sighed contentedly. "The worst of the journey's over," she declared. "It's that change in London I always dread."
Joan leant back in her corner and tried to sleep, but a flutter from the cage at her side roused her. She bent down and half uncovered Bobbie, who hopped to the bars and nibbled her finger.