“Why is it a bungalow?” asked Sunny, out in the small garage at the back of the house, where he had gone to help his father put up the car.
“That’s the name of it,” said Mr. Horton, busy with folding and putting away the robes and curtains.
“Is a bungalow a house?” persisted Sunny.
“Yes,” answered Mr. Horton. “When all the rooms are on one floor, it is called a bungalow. You’ll like sleeping on the first floor, Sunny Boy; we can fall out of the window for an early swim and no one will miss us. And now let’s go in and offer to set the table for supper. Perhaps we can hurry things up.”
CHAPTER VII
A DAY WITH DADDY
After supper that night, Sunny Boy had a dim idea that he would like to go down and look at the ocean “in the dark” as he said. But Mr. Horton announced that he was going to bed and get up early in the morning, so Sunny decided that perhaps after all that was the wiser plan.
As usual, he went to sleep at once and woke up a minute later—or so it seemed to him. The sunlight was very bright and there was a great deal of it in the room. Daddy was nearly dressed, but Mother was still asleep.
“Don’t make a noise,” whispered Mr. Horton. “I thought we’d have a little swim, but I guess the bathing suits are in the trunks. They’re in the hall and not unlocked yet. We’ll go down to the beach and have a little walk before breakfast.”
Sunny Boy struggled into his brown linen sailor suit, Daddy helping him with the most stubborn buttons, and together they stole out of the house. Not even Harriet was awake.
“Is it dreadful early?” asked Sunny curiously, and whispering, because he felt so strange.