This was indeed the “barge,” but it had come for their return.  The Gooseberry cousins, much bewildered that the family did not arrive at the time expected, had forgotten to send to countermand it.  And the “barge” driver, supposing the family had arrived by the other station, had taken occasion to bring up the lunch-basket, as it was addressed to the Gooseberry cousins.  The cousins flocked out to meet them.  “What had happened?  What had delayed them?  They were glad to see them at last.”

Mrs. Peterkin, when she understood the state of the case, insisted upon getting directly into the “barge” to return, although the driver said there would be a few moments to spare.  Some of the cousins busied themselves in opening the luncheon-basket, and a part led the little boys and Agamemnon and Solomon John down upon the beach in front of the house; there would be a few moments for a glance at the sea.  Indeed, the little boys ventured in their India-rubber boots to wade in a little way, as the tide was low.  And Agamemnon and Solomon John walked to look at a boat that was drawn up on the beach, and got into it and out of it for practice, till they were all summoned back to the house.

It was indeed time to go.  The Gooseberry cousins had got out the luncheon, and had tried to persuade the family to spend the night.  Mrs. Peterkin declared this would be impossible.  They never had done such a thing.  So they went off, eating their luncheon as they went, the little boys each with a sandwich in one hand and a piece of cake in the other.

Mrs. Peterkin was sure they should miss the train or lose some of the party.  No, it was a great success; for all, and more than all, were found in the train:  slung over the arm of one of the little boys was found the basket containing the cats.  They were to have left the cats, but in their haste had brought them away again.

This discovery was made in a search for the tickets which Elizabeth Eliza had bought, early in the morning, to go and return; they were needed now for return.  She was sure she had given them to her father.  Mrs. Peterkin supposed that Mr. Peterkin must have changed them for the Kingston tickets.  The little boys felt in their pockets, Agamemnon and Solomon John in theirs.  In the excitement, Mrs. Peterkin insisted upon giving up her copy of their new photograph, and could not be satisfied till the conductor had punched it.  At last the tickets were found in the outer lappet of Elizabeth Eliza’s hand-bag.  She had looked for them in the inner part.

It was after this that Mr. Peterkin ventured to pronounce the whole expedition a success.  To be sure, they had not passed the day at the beach, and had scarcely seen their cousins; but their object had been to practise travelling, and surely they had been travelling all day.  Elizabeth Eliza had seen the sea, or thought she had.  She was not sure—­she had been so busy explaining to the cousins and showing