George didn't want to go for the picnic, not because she disliked picnics, but because she couldn't take her dog. Her mother went with the children, and George had to pass a whole day without her beloved Timothy.
"Bad luck!" said Julian, who guessed what she was brooding about. "I can't think why you don't tell your mother about old Tim. I'm sure she wouldn't mind you letting someone else keep him for you. I know my mother wouldn't mind."
"I'm not going to tell anybody but you," said George. "I get into awful trouble at home always. I dare say it's my fault, but I get a bit tired of it. You see, Daddy doesn't make much money with the learned books he writes, and he's always wanting to give mother and me things he can't afford. So that makes him bad-tempered. He wants to send me away to a good school but he hasn't got the money. I'm glad. I don't want to go away to school. I like being here. I couldn't bear to part with Timothy."
"You'd like boarding school," said Anne. "We all go. It's fun."
"No, it isn't," said George obstinately. "It must be awful to be one of a crowd, and to have other girls all laughing and yelling round you. I should hate it."
"No, you wouldn't," said Anne. "All that is great fun. It would be good for you, George, I should think."
"If you start telling me what is good for me, I shall hate you," said George, suddenly looking very fierce. "Mother and father are always saying that things are good for me- and they are always the things I don't like."
"All right, all right," said Julian, beginning to laugh. "My goodness, how you do go up in smoke! Honestly, I believe anyone could light a cigarette from the sparks that fly from your eyes!"
That made George laugh, though she didn't want to. It was really impossible to sulk with good-tempered Julian.
They went off to bathe in the sea for the fifth time that day. Soon they were all splashing about happily, and George found time to help Anne to swim. The little girl hadn't got the right stroke, and George felt really proud when she had taught her.
"Oh, thanks," said Anne, struggling along. "I'll never be as good as you- but I'd like to be as good as the boys."
As they were going home, George spoke to Julian. "Could you say that you want to go and buy a stamp or something?" she said. "Then I could go with you, and just have a peep at old Tim. He'll be wondering why I haven't taken him out today."
"Right!" said Julian. "I don't want stamps, but I could do with an ice. Dick and Anne can go home with your mother and carry the things. I'll just go and tell Aunt Fanny."
He ran up to his aunt. "Do you mind if I go and buy some ice-creams?" he asked. "We haven't had one today. I won't be long. Can George go with me?"
"I don't expect she will want to," said his aunt. "But you can ask her."
"George, come with me!" yelled Julian, setting off to the little village at a great pace. George gave a sudden grin and ran after him. She soon caught him up and smiled gratefully at him.
"Thanks," she said. "You go and get the ice-creams, and I'll have a look at Tim."
They parted, Julian bought four ice-creams, and turned to go home. He waited about for George, who came running up after a few minutes. Her face was glowing.
"He's all right," she said. "And you can't imagine how pleased he was to see me! He nearly jumped over my head! I say- another ice-cream for me. You really are a sport, Julian. I'll have to share something with you quickly. What about going to my island tomorrow?"
"Golly!" said Julian, his eye's shining. "That would be marvellous. Will you really take us tomorrow? Come on, let's tell the others!"
The four children sat in the garden eating their ices. Julian told them what George had said. They all felt excited. George was pleased. She had always felt quite important before when she had haughtily refused to take any of the other children to see Kirrin Island- but it felt much nicer somehow to have consented to row her cousins there.
"I used to think it was much, much nicer always to do things on my own," she thought, as she sucked the last bits of her ice. "But it's going to be fun doing things with Julian and the others."
The children were sent to wash themselves and to get tidy before supper. They talked eagerly about the visit to the island next day. Their aunt heard them and smiled.
"Well, I really must say I'm pleased that George is going to share something with you," she said. "Would you like to take your dinner there, and spend the day? It's hardly worth while rowing all the way there and landing unless you are going to spend some hours there."
"Oh, Aunt Fanny! It would be marvellous to take our dinner!" cried Anne.
George looked up. "Are you coming too, Mother?" she asked.
"You don't sound at all as if you want me to," said her mother, in a hurt tone. "You looked cross yesterday, too, when you found I was coming. No- I shan't come tomorrow- but I'm sure your cousins must think you are a queer girl never to want your mother to go with you."
George said nothing. She hardly ever did say a word when she was scolded. The other children said nothing too. They knew perfectly well that it wasn't that George didn't want her mother to go- it was just that she wanted Timothy with her!
"Anyway, I couldn't come," went on Aunt Fanny. "I've some gardening to do. You'll be quite safe with George. She can handle a boat like a man."
The three children looked eagerly at the weather the next day when they got up. The sun was shining, and everything seemed splendid.
"Isn't it a marvellous day?"said Anne to George,as they dressed. "I'm so looking forward to going to the island."
"Well, honestly, I think really we oughtn't to go," said George, unexpectedly.
"Oh, but why?" cried Anne, in dismay.
"I think there's going to be a storm or something," said George, looking out to the south-west.
"But, George, why do you say that?" said Anne, impatiently. "Look at the sun- and there's hardly a cloud in the sky!"
"The wind is wrong," said George. "And can't you see the little white tops to the waves out there by my island? That's always a bad sign."
"Oh George- it will be the biggest disappointment of our lives if we don't go today," said Anne, who couldn't bear any disappointment, big or small. "And besides," she added, artfully, "if we hang about the house, afraid of a storm, we shan't be able to have dear old Tim with us."
"Yes, that's true," said George. "All right- we'll go. But mind, if a storm does come, you're not to be a baby. You're to try and enjoy it and not be frightened."
"Well, I don't much like storms," began Anne, but stopped when she saw George's scornful look. They went down to breakfast, and George asked her mother if they could take their dinner as they had planned.
"Yes," said her mother. "You and Anne can help to make the sandwiches. You boys can go into the garden and pick some ripe plums.to take with you. Julian, you can go down to the village when you've done that and buy some bottles of lemonade or ginger-beer, whichever you like."
"Ginger-pop for me, thanks!" said Julian, and everyone else said the same. They all felt very happy. It would be marvellous to visit the queer little island. George felt happy because she would be with Tim all day.
They set off at last, the food in two kit-bags. The first thing they did was to fetch Tim. He was tied up in the fisher-boy's back yard. The boy himself was there, and grinned at George.
"Morning, Master George," he said. It seemed so queer to the other children to hear Georgina called 'Master George'! 'Tim's been barking his head off for you. I guess he knew you were coming for him today."
"Of course he did," said George, untying him. He at once went completely mad, and tore round and round the children, his tail down and his ears flat.