Dimity clasped her hands. “The grand tour!”

“I hardly think fighting in the front lines of the British Army is a tour,” corrected Sophronia.

Dimity sighed. “Why must you always crush my fantasies?”

“Sorry, Dimity, forget I said anything. Well, Sidheag, I, for one, will miss you terribly. How am I going to take down all the Picklemen in England without you?”

Sidheag laughed. “Oh, you’ll manage.”

“I’ll help,” said Dimity. “And there’s always Bumbersnoot.” She patted the little mechanimal cheerfully.

Sophronia grinned. “Quite right, we can’t forget Bumbersnoot.”

The End