The Children of Wilton Chase by L.T. Meade

There was wild fun at Salter's Point. A cove was found with yellow sand as smooth as glass; here the picnic dinner was spread, and here the boys and girls laughed heartily and enjoyed themselves well. There seemed no hitch anywhere, and if Basil kept a little aloof from Ermengarde, and if Ermengarde was a trifle more subdued and had less of a superior air than was her wont, no one noticed these small circumstances. Marjorie laughed until she cried; Eric stood on his head and turned somersaults, and performed conjuring tricks, and was really the most witty, fascinating little fellow. Even Miss Nelson laughed at Eric, and Mr. Wilton openly regretted that the old established position of the family at Wilton Chase prevented his making his son a clown at the pantomime.

But the brightest days come to an end, and when the picnic dinner was eaten, the dishes washed and replaced in their baskets, when each child, aided by patient Marjorie, had secured a liberal supply of shells, and each little chubby face had gazed with ecstasy into the pools which contained the wonderful gardens of sea-weeds and sea-anemones, it was time to pack the wagonette once more, to fill the pony-carriage, and to start for home.