"Down again presently," he called out, and had a heavy fall on the
stairs, as he went up to his bedroom. There he had a short argument
with himself. It was possible to slam his door, go to bed, and be very
polite in the morning. But that would never do: Hermy and Ursy would
have a joke against him forever. It was really much better to share in
the joke, identifying himself with it. So he brushed his hair in the
orthodox fashion, put on a very smart dressing-gown, and came tripping
downstairs again.
"My dears, what fun!" he said. "Let's all have supper. But let's move
into the dining-room, where there's a table, and I'll get another
bottle of wine, and some glasses, and we'll bring Tipsipoozie in. You
naughty girls, fancy arriving at a time like this. I suppose your plan
was to go very quietly to bed, and come down to breakfast in the
morning, and give me a fine surprise. Tell me about it now."
So presently Tipsipoozie was having his marmalade, which did just as
well as jam, and they were all eating slices off the ham, and stuffing
them into split buns.
"Yes, we thought we might as well do it all in one go," said Hermy,
"and it's a hundred and twenty miles, if it's a yard. And then it was
so late when we got here, we thought we wouldn't disturb you, specially
as the drawing-room window wasn't bolted."
"Bicycles outside," said Ursy, "they'll just have to be out at grass
till morning.
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