"Then come right off home, Florry," said Mrs. Aylmer; "I have got shrimps for tea and some brown bread and butter, and Sukey made the bread specially for you this morning; you always liked home-made bread. Come along; the porter will bring your trunk in presently. You'll see to it, Peter, won't you?" said Mrs. Aylmer.
Peter, the rough-headed outside porter, nodded in reply, and Mrs. Aylmer, leaning upon Florence, who was head and shoulders taller than her parent, walked down the little shingly beach, and a moment afterwards entered the cottage door.
"Dear Mummy," she said, "it is good to see you. Now, turn round, Mummy, and let us have a right good hearty stare. Oh, you look just as well as ever, sunburnt--so much the better. Now then, for a hug."
Florence opened her arms, and the next moment little Mrs. Aylmer was clasped to her daughter's breast.
"There, that's nice," said Florence, "that's a right hearty hug. I am so glad you are well, Mummy. I am so thankful you were able to send me the money; I hope I didn't screw you up very tight."
"Well, it did, Florence," replied Mrs. Aylmer; "I shall not be able to have any meat for a whole month after you leave, dear. That was the way I managed, just docking the butcher's bill and the greengrocer's bill. I must have butter to my bread and milk in my tea, but the greengrocer and the butcher will pay your third-class return fare to the school. There now, Flo, don't worry. Come upstairs to our room; you will share my bed, dear; I could not afford to have an extra room; you will share my bed."
Florence followed her mother upstairs without a word. The cottage was a very, very tiny one, and, tiny as it was, Mrs. Aylmer only owned one half of it. She had a little sitting room downstairs, and a wee, wee bedroom upstairs, and the use of the kitchen, and the use of Sukey's time for so many hours every day, and that was about all. But a delicious sea breeze blew into the tiny sitting-room and filled the little bed-room; and clematis and honey-suckle and climbing plants of every description clustered around the windows, and Florence thought it the dearest, sweetest, most fascinating place in the world.
"It is rather a small bed for two," she reflected, as she entered the room, stooping to get beneath the lintel of the door; "but never mind, it's Mummy's little room and Mummy's bed, and I am happy, happy as the day is long."