These troubles, however, were only incidental in the Pilgrimage, and certainly might have been worse.
On comparing notes at breakfast nearly everybody had had similar experiences.

Miss Strong confessed to a patent mattress with a broken spring jutting up in the center, round which she had been obliged to lie in a curve.

Linda and Francie had slept near the water-cistern, which alarmed them with weird noises, and Bess and Kitty, trying to open their window wider, had found it lacked sash-cords, and descended like a guillotine, sending the prop that had upheld it, flying into the street.
Though they groused at the time, the girls laughed as they discussed these details over the eggs and bacon.

The sun was shining and they felt rested, and quite ready once more to shoulder their kit and set out on the march.
There was nothing of very great interest to see in Dropwick itself, though it was a quaint enough old-fashioned market-town, with a fifteenth-century church tower, and a few black and white houses.

Miss Strong decided not to waste any time there, but to push on as fast as possible across the hills to Sudbury, where there was a fine Romano-British villa that was well worth a visit.