There ensued an offended silence. Joan straightened her aching back and sat down to consider. It might be hot at Lynton in May. It had been very hot last year, but that was in the middle of a heat wave, whereas now--still, on the whole, she had better take her grey flannel, it wasn't a bulky thing to pack. She took a piece of paper from her pocket and began to study a list. "Travel in brown tweed, _old coat and skirt_, brown shoes and stockings and grey overcoat." What hat should she leave out? Perhaps the old blue one; anything was good enough, it was always a dirty journey. She referred to the list again. "Pack six pairs stockings, three pairs gloves, four vests, three nightgowns, blue serge suit, two pairs shoes, one pair slippers." She ticked the articles off on her fingers one by one. Her mauve dinner dress was rather shabby, she remembered, but that couldn't be helped; she must make out with a black skirt and low-necked blouses, for a change. "Joan, I can't lift my bag down from the top of the wardrobe; I do wish you'd come here." "Oh, all right," sighed Joan, getting up. They had been packing for several days and yet nothing was finished; the next morning they were to start at seven in order to catch the express in London. "Where's the medicine bag?" Joan asked anxiously. Mrs. Ogden shook her head. "I don't know; hasn't it been got out? I suppose it's in the cupboard under the stairs." They routed out the bag from its dusty lair and began to sort bottles. "Joan, you must _not_ go on taking that bromo-seltzer after what Major Boyle told us." "Of course I shall go on taking it; it's perfectly harmless." "It's very far from harmless. Major Boyle says that he knows for a fact----" "I don't care a rap what Major Boyle thinks he knows," Joan interrupted impatiently. "It's the only thing that does my head the least good, and I'm going to take it." "Well, I do wish you wouldn't; I'm sure it's very dangerous." "Oh, Mother, do leave me alone; I'm not a child, I can quite well look after myself." They squabbled for a little while over the bromo-seltzer, while the bag grew gradually full to bursting. At last it was closed, but not without an effort. "Good gracious, here's the bird-seed left out!" Mrs. Ogden exclaimed, producing a good-sized cocoa tin from the washstand cupboard. "And now what's to be done?" "It must go in a trunk," said Joan firmly. "But suppose it upsets?" "Oh, it won't." "Well, I don't know; it might." "Then put it in the hold-all; it will be all right there." "I can't understand why it can't go in the medicine bag; it always has at other times," said Mrs. Ogden discontentedly. "And it's Bobbie's special mixture; I can only get it at one place." "Bobbie won't die, Mother, if he has to live for three weeks on Hyde's or Spratt's or something; there's lots of seed at the grocers at Lynton, I've often seen it." But Mrs. Ogden persisted. "We must find room in the bag for it, my dear."