," said Miss Rutherford. "I have it all ready in a sheltered
nook under the bank at the top of the beach."

She took Priscilla's hand and began to run across the seaweed towards
the grass. Half way up Priscilla stopped abruptly and looked round.
Jimmy Kinsella had his arm round Frank and was helping him out of the
boat.

"Hullo, Jimmy!" said Priscilla. "I'd better come back and give you a
hand. You'll hardly be able to do that job by yourself."

"I will, of course," said Jimmy. "Why not?"

"I thought, perhaps, you wouldn't," said Priscilla, "on account of the
hole in your leg."

"What hole?"

"The hole your father's new heifer made when she drove her horn through
your leg," said Priscilla. "I suppose there is a hole. There must be if
the horn went clean through. It can't have closed up again yet."

"I don't know," said Jimmy. "Did ever I meet a young lady as fond of the
funning as yourself, Miss. Many's the time my da did be saying that the
like of Miss Priscilla----"

"Your da, as you call him," said Priscilla, "says a deal more than his
prayers."

"Do tell me about the hole in Jimmy's leg," said Miss Rutherford. "He
never mentioned it to me."

"Nor wouldn't," said Priscilla, "because it's like the rats and the
spotted fever and the bad smell, or what ever it was he told you. It's
simply not there."

Miss Rutherford lit the methylated spirits in the upper part of the
Primus stove. Priscilla pumped up the paraffin with enthusiasm. The
water was put on to boil. Then Priscilla asked for the packets of
desiccated soup.

"I find," she said, "that it's a capital plan to read the directions
for use before you actually do the thing, whatever it is. Last term I
spoiled a whole packet of printing paper--photographic, you know--by not
doing that. I read them afterwards and found out exactly where I'd gone
wrong, which was interesting, of course, but not much real use. Sylvia
Courtney rather rubbed it in. That's the sort of girl she is."

"A most disagreeable sort," said Miss Rutherford. "I have met some like
her. In fact they're rather common."

"I wouldn't say disagreeable. In fact I rather love Sylvia Courtney at
times. But she has her faults. We all have, which in some ways is rather
a good thing. If there weren't any faults it would be so dull for people
like Aunt Juliet. You're not a Ministering Child, I suppose?"

"No. Are you? I expect you must be."

"I was once. Sylvia Courtney brought me to the meeti