So she tossed off her hat and washed her face and hands, and tidied her hair, and went down to enjoy the honey and bread and fruit and shrimps and tea with cream in it which Mrs. Aylmer had provided in honor of her daughter's arrival.
"There," said Florence, "that was a hearty meal. Now let us go out on the beach, Mummy. You will have a great deal to say to me, and I shall have a great deal to say to you."
"It is exciting having you back, Flo," said Mrs. Aylmer, "and we must make the week go as far as possible."
"We will sit up very late at night," said Florence, "and we will get up very early in the morning, for we must talk, talk, talk every moment of our precious time, except just the few hours necessary for sleep. You don't want much sleep, do you, Mummy?"
"Yes, but I do, my dear; I want my seven to eight hours' sleep within the twenty-four hours, or I am just good for nothing. I get muzzy in the head unless I sleep enough. Do you ever suffer from muzziness in the head, dear?"
"That's just like one of your dear old-fashioned words," said Florence; "if I did feel it I shouldn't be allowed to express it in that way at school. By the way, mother, what do you think of me? Haven't I grown a good lot?"
"Yes, you're a fine hearty girl, but you are not exactly beautiful, Florry."
Florence's eyes fell and a discontented look crossed her face. "How can I look decent in these clothes?" she said; "but there, never mind, you can't give me better, can you?"
"I, darling! How could I? I have not fifty pounds a year when all is told, and I cannot do more with my money. It's your Aunt Susan who is to blame, Florence, and she is worse than ever. I'll tell you all about her to-morrow; we won't worry to-night, will we?"
"No; let us think of only pleasant things to-night," said Florence.
"Well, come down on the beach, Flo. I am all agog to hear your news. What is this about the Scholarship?"
"Oh, Mummy, need we talk of this either to-night?" said Florence, frowning.
"Well, yes, I should like it," said Mrs. Aylmer; "you see, you know all about it, and I don't. You told me so little in your letter. You don't write half as long letters as you used to, Flo. I wish you would, for I have nothing else to divert me. I have turned and re-turned my best dress--I turned it upside down last year, and downside up this year, and back to front and front to back, and I am trimming it now with frills which I have cut another old skirt up to make, and I really cannot do anything more with it. It won't by stylish, try as I will, and your Aunt Susan hasn't sent me a cast-off of hers for the last two years. It's very stingy of her, very stingy indeed. She sells her clothes now to a dealer in London who buys up all sorts of wardrobes. Before she found out this wardrobe-dealer I used to get her cast-offs and managed quite nicely. It's horrid of her. She is a very unamiable character. Don't you ever take after her, Florry, be sure you don't."