1
JOAN stared into her half-packed trunk with a worried expression. If
only she could know what the weather would be! Should she take her
flannel coat and skirt? Should she take any light suits at all, or would
it be enough if she only had warm things?
"Joan, I can't find my new bedroom slippers; I've looked everywhere.
Where have you put them?" came Mrs. Ogden's voice from across the
landing.
"Oh, do wait a minute, Mother! I'm trying to think out what to take; I
can't find your slippers for a minute or two."
There ensued an offended silence. Joan straightened her aching back and
sat down to consider. It might be hot at Lynton in May. It had been very
hot last year, but that was in the middle of a heat wave, whereas
now--still, on the whole, she had better take her grey flannel, it
wasn't a bulky thing to pack. She took a piece of paper from her pocket
and began to study a list. "Travel in brown tweed, _old coat and skirt_,
brown shoes and stockings and grey overcoat." What hat should she leave
out? Perhaps the old blue one; anything was good enough, it was always a
dirty journey. She referred to the list again. "Pack six pairs
stockings, three pairs gloves, four vests, three nightgowns, blue serge
suit, two pairs shoes, one pair slippers." She ticked the articles off
on her fingers one by one. Her mauve dinner dress was rather shabby, she
remembered, but that couldn't be helped; she must make out with a black
skirt and low-necked blouses, for a change.
"Joan, I can't lift my bag down from the top of the wardrobe; I do wish
you'd come here."
"Oh, all right," sighed Joan, getting up.
They had been packing for several days and yet nothing was finished; the
next morning they were to start at seven in order to catch the express
in London.
"Where's the medicine bag?" Joan asked anxiously.
Mrs. Ogden shook her head. "I don't know; hasn't it been got out? I
suppose it's in the cupboard under the stairs."
They routed out the bag from its dusty lair and began to sort bottles.
"Joan, you must _not_ go on taking that bromo-seltzer after what Major
Boyle told us."
"Of course I shall go on taking it; it's perfectly harmless."
"It's very far from harmless. Major Boyle says that he knows for a
fact----"
"I don't care a rap what Major Boyle thinks he knows," Joan interrupted
impatiently. "It's the only thing that does my head the least good, and
I'm going to take it."
"Well, I do wish you wouldn't; I'm sure it's very dangerous."
"Oh, Mother, do leave me alone; I'm not a child, I can quite well look
after myself."
They squabbled for a little while over the bromo-seltzer, while the bag
grew gradually full to bursting. At last it was closed, but not without
an effort.
"Good gracious, here's the bird-seed left out!" Mrs. Ogden exclaimed,
producing a good-sized cocoa tin from the washstand cupboard. "And now
what's to be done?"
"It must go in a trunk," said Joan firmly.
"But suppose it upsets?"
"Oh, it won't."
"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.
"There, there, my pet," she murmured softly.
Bobbie burst into a loud song. "He likes the noise of the train," smiled
Mrs. Ogden, nodding her head.