“Righto! Awfully disappointed and all that!” shouted Julian. “Do hope your head will soon be better! See you later!”

No other reply came from the window, but, as Julian went across the yard to the stables, a very surprised face watched him go, from behind the bedroom curtains. George was extremely astonished to have been taken at her word, shocked at being left behind after all, and angry with Henry and everyone else for putting her into this fix!

Julian told the others that George had a headache and wasn’t coming. Anne was most concerned and wanted to go and comfort her but Julian forbade her to.

“No. She’s up in her room. Leave her alone, Anne. That’s an order - see?”

“All right,” said Anne, half-relieved. She felt sure that George’s headache was mostly temper, and she didn’t at all want to go and argue with her for half an hour. Henry hadn’t said a word. She had flushed with surprise when Julian had announced that George was not coming, and she knew at once that there was no real headache! She was George’s headache, she knew that!

She went up to Julian. “Look, I guess it’s because you’ve asked me to come, that Georgina won’t come with us. I don’t want to spoil things. You go and tell her I’m not going after all.”

Julian looked at Henry gratefully. “That’s jolly nice of you,” he said. “But we’re taking George at her word. Anyway, we didn’t ask you out of politeness. We wanted you to come!”

“Thanks,” said Henry. “Well, let’s go before anything else happens! Our horses are ready. I’ll fix the saddle-bags.”

Soon all four were on their horses, and were walking over the yard to the gate. George heard the clippity-clop-clippity-clop of the hooves and peeped out of the window again. They were going after all! She hadn’t thought they really would go without her. She was horrified.

Why did I behave like that? I’ve put myself in the wrong! thought poor George. Now Henrietta will be with them all day and will be as nice as possible, just to show me up. What an ass I am! “Timmy, I’m an ass and an idiot, and a great big fathead! Aren’t I?”

Timmy didn’t think so. He had been puzzled to hear the others going off without him and George, and had gone to the door and whined. Now he came back to George and put his head on her knee. He knew George was not happy.

“You don’t care how I behave, do you, Tim?” said George, stroking the soft, furry head. “That’s the best of a dog! You don’t care if I’m in the wrong or not, you just love me all the same, don’t you? Well, you shouldn’t love me today, Tim. I’ve been an idiot!”

There was a knock at her door. It was William again. “George! Mrs Johnson says, if your headache is bad, undress and get into bed. But if it’s better, come down and help with Clip, the gypsy’s horse.”