"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.