The Garden Party and Other Stories

harf that jutted out into the harbour, a faint wind blowing off the water ruffled under Fenella's hat, and she put up her hand to keep it on. It was dark on the O

ack mushroom, there hung a lantern, but it seemed afraid to unfurl its timi

ed into a neat sausage, Fenella carried clasped to her her grandma's umbrella, and the handle, which was a swan's head, kept giving her shoulder a sharp little peck as if it too wanted her to hurry . . . Men, their caps pulled down, their collars turned u

th leapt, there sounded from behind the largest wool shed,

more ready to sail among stars than out into the cold sea. People pressed along the gangway. First went her grandma, then her father, then Fenella. There was a high step down on to the deck, and an old sailor in a

e!" said Fenella's father, giving g

you,

ot your cabin

, de

r other

inside her glove and

's ri

tired and sad. "Mia-oo-oo-O-O!" The second whistle blared just above t

ps say. And her grandma, very agitated, answered, "Of course

se Fenella saw her father take off his hat. He clasped grandma in his a

hat was worn through on her ring finger, against his ch

llowed once, twice, and frowned terribly at a little green star on

ld, wet moustache brushed her cheek. But Fe

hook her off gently, and gently said, "We'll see about that. Here! Where's your hand?

lled. Silently the dark wharf began to slip, to slide, to edge away from them. Now there was a rush of water between. Fenella strained to see with all her might. "Was that father turning round?"- or waving?- or standing alone?- or walking off by himself? The strip of water gr

she was sitting on them, her hands folded, her head a little on one side. There was an intent, bright look on her face. Then Fenella saw that her lips were moving and guessed that she was pra

r bonnet-strings, "I think we ought to see about ou

gran

in the stair rail. I saw a beautiful umbre

gran

od staring out to sea. The ship rocked ever so little, and she thought the stars rocked too. And now a pale steward in a linen coat, holding a tray high in the palm of his hand, stepped out of a lighted doorway and skimmed past them. They went through that d

aloon. It was glaring bright and stifling; the air smelled of paint and burnt chop-bones and indiarubber. Fenella wished her grandma would go on, but the

the sandwich

ude steward, slamming

uld hardly

each?" s

the steward, and he w

he further door and along a passage that had cabins on either side. Such a very nice stewardess came to meet them. She w

eir washstand. "We've got you back again.

ut this time my dear s

k a long, mournful look at grandma's blackness and at Fenella'

"It was God's

ips and, taking a deep br

of us has to go, and that's a certingty." She paused. "Now, can I bring you anything, Mrs Cr

nk you. We've got a few wine biscuits

r on," said the stewardess, and

asping her luggage and the umbrella. Were they going to get undressed in here? Already her grandma had taken off her bonnet, and, rolling up the strings, she fixed each with a pin to the lining bef

eyebrows as she smiled tenderly and mournfully at Fenella. Then she undid her bodice, and something under that, and something else underneath that. Then there seemed a short, sharp tussle, and grandma fl

coat and skirt and put on her flannel

my boots, grand

. She kissed Fenella. "Don't forget to say your prayers. Our dear Lord is with us when we are at sea even more than whe

however will yo

woman gave a small silent laugh before she mounted them nimbl

hat, did you?" said she. And as she sank

mply had to tear your way in. If everything had been different, Fenella might have got the giggles . . . At last she was inside, and while she lay there panting, there

rdess came in; she trod softly and

tering the Str

O

t we're rather empty.

ng down again, and there was the sound of heavy water slapping against her sides. Fenella remembered she had left the swan-n

stewardess, laying down m

coming back to grandma, breathed, "Your litt

ed for that!"

ss. And grandma was still telling the stewardess

waving in the air above her head. What was it? What could it be? It was a small grey foo

grandma,"

ladder?" asked grandma. "

. I'll put your foot on it.

get up, child. You'd better have a bisc

it was cold. Peering through that round eye she could see far off some rocks. Now they were

r foot; she was trembling. Oh, it had all been so sad lately. Was it going to change? But all her grandma said was, "Make haste, child. I should leave your nice banana for the stew

and fell. Now they could see quite plainly dark bush. Even the shapes of the umbrella ferns showed, and those strange silvery withered trees that are like skeletons . . . Now they could see the landing-s

ds the Picton boat, and a man holding a coil of rope, and a cart with

d pleased. Her white waxen cheeks were blue with cold, her chin tre

ve go

." Fenella sh

the little cart, and a moment later they were bowling away. The hooves of the little horse drummed over the wooden piles, then sank softly into the sandy ro

reddy. "He looked himself then. Missus kn

path of round white pebbles they went, with drenched sleeping flowers on either side. Grandma's delicate white picotees were so heavy with dew that they were fallen, but their sweet smell was part

Not a sound. She called, "Walter!" And immediately a deep voi

n there." She pushed Fenella gent

n sprang on to the tips of its toes. Fenella buried one cold little hand in the white, warm fur, and sm

to one side on an immense bed, lay grandpa. Just his head with a white tuft and his rosy

sed him. "Ugh!" said grandpa. "Her little nose is as cold as

n neck over the bed-rail. Above the bed t

One Go

Sixty Diamo

ward Is

Is Gone F

e ruffled his white tuft and looked at Fenella