ward its claim with a West End comedy. The
Royal Marine Band announced that it would play (weather permitting) in
the Pergola on the Leas every afternoon, 4.20-6. Other signs of new
life were the Skeaton Roller-Skating Rink, The Piccadilly Cinema,
Concerts in the Town Hall, and Popular Lectures in the Skeaton
Institute. There was also a word here and there about Wanton's Bathing
Machines, Button's Donkeys, and Milton and Rowe's Char-a-bancs.

Then, on a sunny day in June the invasion began. The little railway by
the sea was only a loop-line that connected Skeaton with Lane-on-Sea,
Frambell, and Hooton. The main London line had its Skeaton station a
little way out of the town, and the station road to the beach passed
the vicarage. Maggie soon learnt to know the times when the excursion
trains would pour their victims on to the hot, dry road. Early in the
afternoon was one time, and she would see them eagerly, excitedly
hurrying to the sea, fathers and mothers and babies, lovers and noisy
young men and shrieking girls. Then in the evening she would see them
return, some cross, some too tired to speak, some happy and singing,
some arguing and disputing, babies crying-all hurrying, hurrying lest
the train should be missed. At first she would not penetrate to the
beach. She understood from Paul and Grace that one did not go to the
beach during the summer months; at any rate, not the popular beach.
There was Merton Sand two miles away. One might go there ... it was
always deserted. This mysterious "one" fascinated Maggie's imagination.
So many times a day Grace said "Oh, I don't think one ought to." Maggie
heard again and again about the trippers, "Oh, one must keep away from
there, you know."

In fact the Skeaton aristocracy retired with shuddering gestures into
its own castle. Life became horribly dull. The Maxses, the
Constantines, and the remainder of the Upper Ten either went away or
hid themselves in their grounds.

Once or twice there would be a tennis party, then silence ...

This summer was a very hot one; the little garden was stifling and the
glass bottles cracked in the sun.

"I want to get out. I want to get out," cried Maggie-so she went down
to the sea. She went surreptitiously; this was the first surreptitious
thing she had done. She gazed from the Promenade that began just beyond
the little station and ran the length of the town down upon the sands.
The beach was a small one compared with the great stret