pinned up in what was called a horse's tail. Behind them came Mrs.
Fairfield with the tray.

"Carefully, children," she warned. But they were taking the very greatest
care. They loved being allowed to carry things. "Have you said good
morning to your father?"

"Yes, grandma." They settled themselves on the bench opposite Stanley and
Beryl.

"Good morning, Stanley!" Old Mrs. Fairfield gave him his plate.

"Morning, mother! How's the boy?"

"Splendid! He only woke up once last night. What a perfect morning!" The
old woman paused, her hand on the loaf of bread, to gaze out of the open
door into the garden. The sea sounded. Through the wide-open window
streamed the sun on to the yellow varnished walls and bare floor.
Everything on the table flashed and glittered. In the middle there was an
old salad bowl filled with yellow and red nasturtiums. She smiled, and a
look of deep content shone in her eyes.

"You might cut me a slice of that bread, mother," said Stanley. "I've only
twelve and a half minutes before the coach passes. Has anyone given my
shoes to the servant girl?"

"Yes, they're ready for you." Mrs. Fairfield was quite unruffled.

"Oh, Kezia! Why are you such a messy child!" cried Beryl despairingly.