it? I assure you I
don't feel as though I could touch a thing. A little fruit, perhaps--an
apple or a peach--"

Fruit? Why hadn't Mrs. Cole brought fruit? She might so easily have
done so, and she had never thought about it. They themselves were rather
tired of fruit, and so--

"I'm afraid we've no fruit, but an egg-sandwich--"

"Eggs need salt, don't you think? Not that it matters in the very least,
but so that you shouldn't think me fussy. Really, dear Mrs. Cole, I
never felt less hungry in my life. Just a drop of milk and I'm perfectly
satisfied."

"Jeremy shall run up to the farm for the milk. You don't mind, Jeremy
dear, do you? It's only a step. Just take this sixpence, dear, and say
we'll send the jug back this afternoon if they'll spare one."

Jeremy did mind. He was enjoying his luncheon, and he was gazing at
Charlotte, and he was teasing Hamlet with scraps--he was very happy.
Nevertheless, he started off.

So soon as he left the sands the noise of the sea was shut off from him,
and he was climbing the little green path up which the Scarlet Admiral
had once stalked.

Suddenly he remembered--in his excitement about Charlotte he had
forgotten the Admiral. He stood for a moment, listening. The green
hedge shut off the noise of the sea--only above his head some birds were
twittering. He fancied that he heard footsteps, then that beyond the
hedge something was moving. It seemed to him that the birds were also
listening for something. "Well, it's the middle of the afternoon,
anyway." He thought to himself, "He never comes there--only in the
morning or evening," but he hurried forward after that, wishing that he
had called to Hamlet to accompany him. It was a pleasant climb to
the farm through the green orchard, and he found at the farm door an
agreeable woman who smiled at him when she gave him the milk. He had to
come down the hill carefully, lest the milk should be spilt. He walked
along very happily, humming to himself and thinking in a confused summer
afternoon kind of manner of Charlotte, Hamlet, Mrs. Le Page and himself.
"Shall I give her the thimble or shan't I? I could take her to the pools
where the little crabs are. She'd like them. I wonder whether we're
going to bathe. Mrs. Le Page will look funny bathing..." Then he was in
the green lane again, and at once his discomfort returned to him, and
he looked around his shoulder and into the hedges, and stopped once
and again to listen. There was no sou