I've sold even that. Mrs Biddle gave me ten shillings for it. She said
it would do for her servant's bedroom.'

'Why,' said Jane, 'her servants don't HAVE carpets. We had cook from
her, and she told us so.'

'No scandal about Queen Elizabeth, if YOU please,' said the curate,
cheerfully; and Miss Peasmarsh laughed, and looked at him as though she
had never dreamed that any one COULD be so amusing. But the others were
struck dumb. How could they say, 'The carpet is ours!' For who brings
carpets to bazaars?

The children were now thoroughly wretched. But I am glad to say that
their wretchedness did not make them forget their manners, as it does
sometimes, even with grown-up people, who ought to know ever so much
better.

They said, 'Thank you very much for the jolly tea,' and 'Thanks for
being so jolly,' and 'Thanks awfully for giving us such a jolly time;'
for the curate had stood fish-ponds, and bran-pies, and phonographs, and
the chorus of singing birds, and had stood them like a man. The girls
hugged Miss Peasmarsh, and as they went away they heard the curate say--

'Jolly little kids, yes, but what about--you will let it be directly
after Easter. Ah, do say you will--'

And Jane ran back and said, before Anthea could drag her away, 'What are
you going to do after Easter?'

Miss Peasmarsh smiled and looked very pretty indeed. And the curate
said--

'I hope I am going to take a trip to the Fortunate Islands.'

'I wish we could take you on the wishing carpet,' said Jane.

'Thank you,' said the curate, 'but I'm afraid I can't wait for that. I
must go to the Fortunate Islands before they make me a bishop. I should
have no time afterwards.'

'I've always thought I should marry a bishop,' said Jane: 'his aprons
would come in so useful. Wouldn't YOU like to marry a bishop, Miss
Peasmarsh?'

It was then that they dragged her away.

As it was Robert's hand that Mrs Biddle had walked on, it was decided
that he had better not recall the incident to her mind, and so make
her angry again. Anthea and Jane had helped to sell things at the rival
stall, so they were not likely to be popular.

A hasty council of four decided that Mrs Biddle would hate Cyril less
than she would hate the others, so the others mingled with the crowd,
and it was he who said to her--

'Mrs Biddle, WE meant to have that carpet. Would you sell it to us? We
would give you--'

'Certainly not,' said Mrs Biddle. 'Go away, little boy.'

The