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as if he might, for once, get enough to eat in this house. The bread was a little stale, but wonderfully filling, and the cheese was the strong orange kind which David particularly liked.
    â€œYou know,” Cousin Ronald said, taking nearly half the strong orange cheese, “Mrs. Thirsk is a rotten cook, Mother. Couldn’t we get someone else?”
    That was a lovely idea. David’s heart once again warmed toward Cousin Ronald, even though he had taken so much cheese.
    â€œI invite you to try to get someone else, Ronald,” said Aunt Dot, finishing that idea for good and all. “David, please stop that unmannerly stuffing. Even if you can’t find it in your heart to be grateful, you need not pretend that we starve you.”
    This was the signal for all four of them to turn on David again. The truth was that David’s announcement over lunch had made them all feel very much ashamed, and they could not forgive him for it. So they told him all over again how ungrateful he was, until David could bear it no longer.
    â€œI don’t know why you think I’m not grateful,” he said. “I was grateful, until you all started going on at me. But I’m not any longer. Nobody could be.”
    â€œWell!” said Aunt Dot.
    â€œLet’s go to Scarborough after all,” said Astrid.
    Cousin Ronald pushed his chair back and stalked to the French window. “That settles it,” he said. “I’m going into the garden.” And he went.
    The other three stayed where they were. David was wishing heartily that it was actually possible to take back one’s words, when Mrs. Thirsk came in, ready to put herself in the right again at David’s expense, bearing like a flag a white towel with red and black grime all over it.
    â€œLook at this—” she began.
    She got no further, because Cousin Ronald shot back into the room, groaning with rage, carrying something like a green sausage someone had stamped on. “My marrows!” he said. “Just look what this brat has done to my marrows!”
    David was sent up to bed again. The one bright spot he could see, as he climbed the stairs and slammed the door of his room, was that Cousin Ronald had not noticed anything wrong with the wall. Otherwise, everything was horrible. It was just not fair. He was quite ready to be grateful, if only they left him alone—but that was the last thing they would do.
    David sat on his bed and looked longingly at the window. Luke was probably waiting for him at the end of the garden by now. It was a hot, golden evening. Midges circled just outside, and swallows swooped in the distance. David thought of all the things he and Luke might be doing and was miserable. And because he had nothing else to do, he took out the box of matches and fiercely struck one. Serve them right if he burned the house down!
    Almost at once, he heard a faint thumping and rustling from outside the window. David was at the window after the first thump. Luke was climbing up the creepers like a monkey.
    â€œOh, brilliant!” David said, and all his misery vanished.
    Luke looked up as David spoke, rather red in the face, and grinned. The movement shifted his weight. “Help!” Luke said. There was a sharp ripping noise, and the creepers began leaning away from the house, carrying Luke with them. David leaned out as far as he dared and seized Luke’s desperately waving arm. After a good deal of heaving, he managed to pull Luke in over the windowsill, both of them laughing rather hysterically—the way you do when you have had a fright. “Thanks,” said Luke.
    â€œLook at the creeper!” David said, and both of them went off into muffled giggles again. The creeper was hanging away from the house in a great bush, and its leaves were turning a scorched and withered brown. David was secretly appalled at the mess, but Luke was not in the least worried.
    â€œMore faking necessary,”