Both of them had forgotten what the "never" was about.


Chapter 1.VIII.

The sun was still full on the garden when the back door of the Burnells'
shut with a bang, and a very gay figure walked down the path to the gate.
It was Alice, the servant-girl, dressed for her afternoon out. She wore a
white cotton dress with such large red spots on it and so many that they
made you shudder, white shoes and a leghorn turned up under the brim with
poppies. Of course she wore gloves, white ones, stained at the fastenings
with iron-mould, and in one hand she carried a very dashed-looking sunshade
which she referred to as her "perishall."

Beryl, sitting in the window, fanning her freshly-washed hair, thought she
had never seen such a guy. If Alice had only blacked her face with a piece
of cork before she started out, the picture would have been complete. And
where did a girl like that go to in a place like this? The heart-shaped
Fijian fan beat scornfully at that lovely bright mane. She supposed Alice
had picked up some horrible common larrikin and they'd go off into the bush
together. Pity to have made herself so conspicuous; they'd have hard work
to hide with Alice in that rig-out.

But no, Beryl was unfair. Alice was going to tea with Mrs Stubbs, who'd
sent her an "invite" by the little boy who called for orders. She had
taken ever such a liking to Mrs. Stubbs ever since the first time she went
to the shop to get something for her mosquitoes.

"Dear heart!" Mrs. Stubbs had clapped her hand to her side. "I never seen
anyone so eaten. You might have been attacked by canningbals."