That will be perfectly simple.

And letters, of course." In this way it was settled that the Great Experiment might be tried, especially as so wise a woman as Collins and so old an ally as Runcie were not against it.

Both, indeed, were of Uncle Christopher's opinion that the self-help and self-reliance which the caravan would lead to would be of the greatest use.
Collins, when she heard later some hint of the possible route the caravan would follow, became not only a supporter of the scheme, but an enthusiast, because her own home was not distant, and she made the children promise to spend a day there with her brother, the farmer.

She also gave Janet some lessons in frying-pan cooking.
Runcie never became an enthusiast, but she allowed herself to be interested, if cautionary.
"To think of the nice comfortable beds you will be leaving," she would say.
"A horse is a vain thing for safety," she would say.
"The blisters you'll get on your poor feet!" she would say.
"The indigestion!" she would say.
"Living like gypsies," she would say.
"No proper washing or anything," she would say.
"Cheer up, Runcie," Gregory would reply; "you're not going." "And glad I am I'm not," she would answer.
"I wish you were, Runcie, and then we'd show you in the villages as 'The Old-Woman-Who-Can't-See-Any-Fun-in-Caravaning' Walk up! Walk up! A penny a peep!" "A clever dog.

He knows the difference between an attack and a feeling of faintness.