‘Posty!’ Daisy Venables, who had been sitting curled up on the grass, jumped to her feet and made a bee-line for the drive, up which a familiar figure was to be seen slowly advancing. Evan Evans, ‘Posty,’ was none too young, and this was a very warm day for September.
Joey Maynard, once Joey Bettany of the Chalet School, looked after Daisy with a laugh. ‘She’s nearly sixteen, but she doesn’t get any more grown-up for all that. Rob! What on earth has she done to her frock? It was clean this morning, and just look at it!’
The girl to whom she spoke lifted a curly black head from the daisy-chain she was making with the assistance of Joey’s triplet daughters and glanced after long-legged Daisy, whose pale-green cotton frock looked as though she had wiped the chimney liberally round with it.
‘Mercy! What a sight! I don’t know what she’s been up to, Jo, so it’s no use asking me. Here she comes with the letters, anyhow, so you can find out from herself.’ Daisy, with a handful of letters, came flying back to the group on the lawn.