“We have to make our pudding, you know,” said Marion, laughing.
“Going to do cooking out of doors?” asked Mr. Scott. “Shall I make a field oven?”
“No, we don’t need to do any cooking, and it will all be ready in five minutes,” she answered, and set to work.
She brought out the sponge cakes, split them in half, and put half of them at the bottom of a large pie-dish that she had brought with her; this she spread with a thick layer of greengage jam, then she put another layer of sponge cake. “Now, Jenny, the strawberries,” she said; but Jenny had already got them out and was busy picking off the stalks. When this was done, she arranged them on the cake in a thick layer, sprinkled them thickly with castor sugar, and lastly spread thick cream, which she had brought in its own brown jar, over the whole. As a last touch, a few “hundreds and thousands” were quickly sprinkled over the top, and the dish was finished, amidst the admiring plaudits of Madge and her party.
Jane’s tomato salad went excellently with the cold lamb which Mrs. Holden had provided, and the whole repast went off well. Ada’s sandwiches kept perfectly fresh, as they were wrapped in a damp cloth before being packed, and they were much liked.
After lunch the indefatigable Jane washed up, Mrs. Holden and Ada helping her, and repacked the hamper. They then rowed across the river to the Palace. Marion suggested looking at the pictures, and Tom Scott offered to conduct her, with an alacrity that was quite surprising, considering that he had been expressing his absolute ignorance of the subject about five minutes before.
“Will you come, too, Madge?”
No; Madge preferred to be lazy and sit out of doors, admiring the orange trees—Mr. Holden also, and Ada. Jane thought she would like to go, and so the three started off. The cool shade of the great rooms was a delightful change after the glare of the gardens, and they sauntered through, admiring the pictures and carving and the beautiful views seen through the open windows. Jane was very much amused with an old Dutch picture representing a street scene with no sky; the perspective was so odd that she declared the people were walking on the wall like flies. She ran back to the other two to tell them to come and look at it, but they seemed so deeply engaged in conversation that she did not disturb them.
“You can’t think how delightful it all is after the lonely life I have been leading for three years,” she heard.
When they went out again to the others, the afternoon was growing cooler. They all went back to the boat, for they were now to row a little way in the direction of Twickenham and to land at a cottage, where tea was ordered beforehand.