Part 8

"I believe it's quite decent here, really; and I know a good many people, and I thought I'd like a bit of a change--and there are other reasons. Of course you're coming out with us to-morrow?"

Lallie shook her head.

"No, I'm not hunting--yet."

"Not hunting, Miss Clonmell! What on earth is the matter? Have you lost your nerve?"

"No," snapped Lallie, "but I've lost my horse. Dad's in India, as you know; the horses are in Ireland; and I'm staying with friends who don't hunt and won't let me hunt without them."

"Oh, but that's nonsense! Were you going this way--may I walk with you? I've got a little mare here that would carry you perfectly if you would honour me by riding her to-morrow. She has been ridden by a lady, and I believe she has excellent manners and is a good jumper. I'm putting up at the Harrow, the stables are so good. They're just at the back here. Won't you come round and look at the horses and see the little mare? It's not three minutes' walk."

Mr. Ballinger talked fast and eagerly, in short, jerky sentences, as though he were nervous.

"I'd love to see the horses," said Lallie, turning with him into the lane where the stables were, quite forgetful of her good resolutions to "walk with nobody."

"And if you like the look of the mare you'll come out to-morrow?"

"Ah, that's quite another matter. I don't think I can do that. Tony wouldn't like it."

"Why wouldn't Tony, whoever he is, like it?"

"Because he can't come with me."

"And why not?"

"Because he's shut up in school."

"Now really, Miss Clonmell, that is going too far. I know how you always spoil any boys you come across, but that you should give up a day's hunting because some wretched little schoolboy doesn't like you to go without him is absurd. Even you must see how ridiculous it is, and how bad for him. Let him attend to his work and mind his own business."

Mr. Ballinger spoke with considerable heat, and Lallie burst into delighted laughter, exclaiming:

"But he's not a little schoolboy that anybody could ignore, I assure you. Besides, I'm devoted to him."

"I have no doubt of it, but he wants putting in his place. Here are the stables."

Once among the horses, Lallie forgot everything except her delight in them; but not even the charms of Kitty, the mare, could make her promise to ride her the next day. So persistent was Mr. Ballinger, however, that to get rid of him she said she would send him a note that night should she happen to change her mind. He escorted her back to the very gate of B. House, and of course she met almost every one she knew in Hamchester while in his company.

She dismissed him at the gate, nor did she ask him in to lunch as she assuredly would have done had it been her father's house. She stood for a minute watching his somewhat slow and disappointed departure, gazing earnestly at his retreating back. Then she shook her head decidedly and went into the house.

Up the back stairs did she go in her honest desire to conciliate Miss Foster. One window on that staircase looks out on to the playground, and as she passed she caught sight of Cripps standing with two other prefects. The window was open and she looked out. All three boys looked up and capped her.

"The dears!" said Lallie to herself, and kissed her hand to them gaily as she passed.

At that very moment Miss Foster, followed by Mr. Johns, came through the swing-door at the top of the stairs. Miss Foster stopped short some four steps above Lallie, and of course Mr. Johns had to stop too, for he couldn't push past her, and to turn back would have looked odd.

"Miss Clonmell," said Miss Foster, in tones that could be heard to the farthest corner of the playground, "I really must protest against your corrupting the boys of this house by vulgar flirtation of that kind."

Lallie stood still in her turn, absolutely petrified by indignant astonishment.

Cripps crimsoned to the roots of his hair, caught each of his friends by the arm and hurried them indoors.

"How dare you speak to me like that?" Lallie gasped out; "and before the boys too? How dare you insult me so?"

"I shall continue to do what I consider my duty whether it be agreeable to you or not, Miss Clonmell, and I tell you again that I will not have these vulgar flirtations."

"It is you who put a vulgar interpretation on the simplest actions," Lallie exclaimed furiously, and with that she turned and ran down the stairs again and across the hall and out at the front door before Miss Foster fully realised that she was gone.

At Miss Foster's first words poor Mr. Johns had turned and fled upstairs again, through the swing door, and out to the landing from which he could look down into the hall, and he saw Lallie's swift and furious exit. Down the sacred front stairs he dashed and out into the drive after her, catching her just as she turned into the road.

As he joined her she lifted to him her white miserable face with tragic eyes all dark with grief and anger.

"I must walk and walk," she said breathlessly. "I am so angry; if I had stayed another minute I should have done that woman an injury. You heard what she said?"

"I quite understand," Mr. Johns said soothingly. "I hope you'll allow me to come with you. I won't talk."

"It's very nice of you, but really I'd be better alone."

"I think not," Mr. Johns said gently; "I hope you won't forbid me to come."

He looked so big, and kind, and honest, and withal so hopelessly uncomfortable, that Lallie's face softened and laughter crept back into her eyes.

"It's really very nice of you to want to come when I'm in such a bad temper. Let's go this way, where there's no people, and perhaps presently I'll feel better and we'll talk."

For nearly ten minutes Lallie pounded along in dead silence as fast as she could go. Then she began to notice that the pace which was rapidly reducing her to a state of breathless collapse had no sort of effect upon her companion, who, hands in his pockets, appeared to be strolling along in an easy sort of saunter at her side.

"This is ignominious," she exclaimed; "here am I walking as if for a wager, and you don't seem hurrying one bit."

"Am I walking too fast for you?" Mr. Johns asked, in poignant self reproach. "I am so sorry; you see, I don't often walk with ladies."

"It isn't you at all, it's me; I'm walking too fast for myself, and it's so aggravating to see somebody alongside perfectly cool and composed. If I could leave you behind, or you had to trot to keep up with me, it wouldn't be half so trying. As it is I give in. For mercy's sake let's sit on this seat for a minute. You may talk to me now. I no longer feel like tearing the hair off Miss Foster. Tell me now, what was it I did to draw such an avalanche of abuse upon me?"

Side by side they sat down upon one of the hard green seats that are placed at convenient intervals in every road leading out of Hamchester.

Lallie's cheeks were quite rosy after her rapid walk. Her grey eyes were clear and limpid again, candid and inquiring as a child's. Mr. Johns gazing into them felt compelled to speak the truth.

"I think," he said slowly, "it was because you kissed your hand to Cripps."

"It wasn't only to Mr. Cripps, it was to Mr. Berry and Mr. Hamilton as well."

"Perhaps she thought you did it to attract their attention."

"And what if I did? Would she expect me to pass three nice boys living in the same house with me--though it's little enough I see of them--with my nose in the air and never a word of greeting; and if I hadn't gone up by her nasty old back stairs just to please her, this would never have happened."

"After all," said Mr. Johns, still gazing at Lallie, although she no longer looked at him, "does it matter much what Miss Foster thinks?"

"It doesn't matter to me what she thinks, but what she says does matter. I can't let her insult me in public and take no notice."

"She often," Mr. Johns remarked ruefully, "insults me in public, and I take no notice."

"Well, it's very noble of you, but I can't reach those heights. To be told I'm a vulgar flirt and corrupt--_corrupt_, mind you--the boys, is more than I'll endure from any stout old woman on this earth. Do _you_ think I'd corrupt any boys, Mr. Johns?"

"I'm quite sure you would always use your great influence in the highest possible way," Mr. Johns said solemnly, "but----"

"But what?" Lallie demanded impatiently as he hesitated.

"You might mislead a boy by--ah--for instance, kissing your hand to him."

"How mislead?"

"It's very difficult to put it in such a fashion as not to sound exaggerated and absurd; but you might, you know, make a boy think you were fond of him."

"So I am very fond of them; they're dears, and I'm perfectly ready to leave my character in their hands. _They_ wouldn't misjudge me and think horrid things."

"I don't think they would misjudge you, Miss Clonmell, but they might mistake your intention."

"My intention was perfectly plain--to give them a friendly greeting as I passed. I've always kissed my hand to people ever since I was a wee little girl--Madame taught me to do it--and if that's corrupting them, the sooner I leave B. House the better. I can't turn into Diogenes in his tub at a moment's notice. If I mayn't smile and wave to the people I know, I'd best go where there's a more friendly spirit. And so I'll tell Tony, only it will bother the poor dear so. Do you think Miss Foster will go and harangue Tony, Mr. Johns?"

"I fear it is only too likely."

"Well, she'll get a pretty dressing down when she does," and Lallie gave a sigh of deepest satisfaction. "Tony understands me, however dense other people may be."

"Don't misunderstand me, Miss Clonmell, I beg; I only tried to lay before you a possible point of view--it may be a wholly erroneous one. But you know people of great charm have also great responsibilities, and it seems to me that sometimes--sometimes you are apt to forget how your graciousness may raise false hopes."

"Hopes of what? In the name of common sense what is the man talking about?" Lallie cried despairingly. "Do you mean that if I kiss my hand to a boy he will promptly hope I'll kiss him in a day or two?"

"That's precisely what I do mean, only I shouldn't have dared to say so," Mr. Johns replied emphatically.

"Oh, the boys have got far more sense than you give them credit for. Good gracious, what's that bell?"

Mr. Johns hastily dragged his watch from his pocket.

"Do you know it's a quarter past two and I'm due to play for the town on their ground at three."

"And luncheon will all be gone, and I'm so hungry," Lallie wailed. "You see it was nearly half-past one when I came in, and then Miss Foster was so disagreeable and drove us both out of the house, and we walked and walked; and now what'll we do?"

"I, at any rate, must fly and change. If I take a pony trap down to the ground I'll just do it."

"And you've had no lunch! Oh, I am so distressed!"

"That doesn't matter in the least, I'll snatch a biscuit and a bit of chocolate. When I'm in training I often do without lunch."

"Run then, Mr. Johns; never mind me. If you sprint a bit you'll be at B. House in five minutes."

"Will you not think me very rude?"

"Don't waste time talking--run!"

Mr. Johns ran, and Lallie followed very slowly, wrapped in thought.

*CHAPTER XIII*

Tony had been playing fives and only managed to change just in time for the boys' dinner. Lallie's seat, at his right hand, was vacant, and he concluded that she was lunching with the Wentworths. Miss Foster sat at another table, and he had no opportunity till the meal was over of asking her what had become of his guest.

Mr. Johns' absence, without warning or explanation, certainly did surprise him, for Mr. Johns was the least casual of men and prided himself upon never being late for, or absent from, any duty whatsoever. It never occurred to Tony to connect his absence with Lallie's.

Tony had promised to take Lallie to the match in the afternoon, but had that morning been unexpectedly summoned to Oxford on rather important business, and the half-holiday made it possible for him to go.

He noticed that Miss Foster, contrary to her usual custom, went straight to the drawing-room directly after lunch, and he followed her there with his question as to the whereabouts of his guest.

Miss Foster stood on the hearthrug in front of the fire--luncheon was always earlier on half-holidays, and it was not yet two-thirty. She looked more than usually formidable, and Tony trembled before her. As he asked his question she waved him to a chair with a majestic motion of the hand.

"Please sit down, Mr. Bevan," she remarked, in a hard voice. "I want to speak to you on this very subject. I have no idea where Miss Clonmell is. She flounced out of the house in a passion because I had to speak to her about flirting with the boys; and I believe, but I am not certain on this point--I believe that Mr. Johns accompanied her, which explains his absence."

Tony did not sit down. On the contrary he remained for a full minute exactly where he was, just inside the half-open door, and stared amazedly at Miss Foster. In perfect silence he shut the door and crossed the room till, standing beside her on the hearthrug, he said slowly:

"I don't think I quite understand; did you say that in consequence of something you had said to her Miss Clonmell left the house?"

"Not for good, Mr. Bevan; don't look so anxious. She was in a temper because I found fault with conduct that I know you, also, would be the first to reprobate."

Miss Foster spoke rather nervously. Tony's face was quite expressionless, but there was an indefinable something in his excessively quiet manner that caused her for the first time to question whether she had been quite wise.

"I'm afraid I must ask you to explain exactly what has happened, Miss Foster. I can't imagine any conduct on the part of Miss Clonmell that could call for an expression of opinion so adverse as to drive her from my house, even temporarily. And I cannot conceive it possible that you should so address her if she was, as you say, accompanied by Mr. Johns."

"Mr. Johns was not with her. He happened to be following me as I came down the stairs. I did not see him when I spoke. What happened was this: I found Miss Clonmell standing at the window of the staircase trying to attract the attention of three of the bigger boys by kissing her hand to them--a most----"

"My dear Miss Foster," Tony interrupted irritably, "how very absurd. You must have misunderstood the whole occurrence. I've known Miss Clonmell since she was a baby, and she is the very last girl in the world to try to 'attract' any one's attention. She doesn't need to. As to kissing her hand, it's a foreign gesture she has acquired from much living abroad. I don't suppose the most conceited ass of a boy in the whole College would misunderstand her if he saw her."

Tony's face was no longer expressionless, and Miss Foster again experienced that strange little tremor of fear.

"I can assure you, Mr. Bevan, had you seen what I saw, you would not treat the affair so lightly. I beg you will not think I was animated by any personal feeling in what I did."

"Why should you be?" Tony asked simply, looking very hard at Miss Foster the while.

"In speaking as I did to Miss Clonmell I was animated wholly by a desire to do my duty by B. House. The honour of the house is very dear to me."

Miss Foster's voice broke, and Tony was melted at once.

"I am sure it is," he said cordially; "but you must take my word for it that in this instance you have been mistaken. And now, where do you suppose that poor child is?"

"I should say she is almost certainly with Mrs. Wentworth, pouring her fancied woes into a sympathetic ear."

Again Tony bent his searching gaze upon Miss Foster.

"Ah," he said thoughtfully, "that last remark of yours proves conclusively how little you know Lallie. She would no more go and complain of you to any one outside, than she would repeat a confidence or carry a mischief-making tale."

Miss Foster made no reply.

"Well, I must go, but I hope I have made it quite clear to you that you were mistaken; and please remember in future, should any little difficulty occur, you must come to me and not deal directly with Miss Clonmell. I came to ask you to go with her in my place to the match this afternoon, but in view of what has happened and the fact that Miss Clonmell has not returned, I suppose that is impossible. I shall have to stay the night at Oxford, but hope to be back in time for morning school to-morrow. May I beg you to adopt as conciliatory a manner as possible to Miss Clonmell--even if you cannot bring yourself to apologise to her? She is my guest, you see, and it would be very distressing to me to think she is unhappy in my house. Can I depend upon you in this, Miss Foster?" Tony's voice was so pleading and he looked so unhappy that Miss Foster relented.

"I certainly could not apologise as I feel I was justified in what I did. I shall make no reference whatever to what has passed. I think that will be best; don't you?"

"Much best," said Tony warmly. "Please tell her how sorry I am not to have seen her before I left."

As the door was shut behind him Miss Foster exclaimed:

"Oh, you poor, dear, duped, deluded, man!"

Meanwhile Lallie still strolled slowly up and down the bit of road where she had rested with Mr. Johns. A soft rain began to fall and she had no umbrella, but she was unconscious of the fact. Physically she was tired and chilled, and really faint from hunger. Mentally, now that her anger and indignation had cooled, she was depressed, but inclined to think she had exaggerated the importance of the whole affair.

"A storm in a teacup," thought Lallie, "and I've gone and complicated the whole thing by vanishing in the society of Paunch. Awfully decent of him to come with me, but Tony will wonder. He'll set Germs in her place, but he'll ask me what it was all about, and if he discovers that Germs and I are not the dear friends he pictures us, he'll worry, and to be a worrying guest is what I can't bear. I wonder what I'd better do?"

For a whole hour Lallie walked up and down that little bit of road in the rain, resting at intervals upon the exceedingly wet green seat, till at last the grey twilight of the short November afternoon began to close about her. A passing man looked so hard at her that she grew nervous and set off at a great pace for B. House.

Tony was worried and distressed. His interview with Miss Foster had revealed to him a state of matters he had, it is true, once or twice dimly conjectured: always putting his misgivings from him as unfair and ungenerous to Miss Foster. He kept his hansom waiting till the last minute in the hope that Lallie would return before he had to go.

With the excuse of getting her to keep Val till he was safely out of the house, he sought the matron and begged her to see that tea was taken up to Miss Clonmell's room directly she came in, and that her fire should be lit at once. He hung about looking so miserable and undecided, that Matron, who had heard the whole story of the why and wherefore of Lallie's absence from Ford--how do servants always know everything that goes on?--was emboldened to remark consolingly:

"It will be all right, sir; these little storms soon blow over. We all know Miss Foster is just a little bit difficult at times; but she means the best possible, and it soon passes. I'll look after Miss Clonmell myself; you may depend upon me. She's a sweet young lady and we're all devoted to her."

This was exactly what Tony wanted, and he departed somewhat comforted.

As he was getting into his cab Matron watched him from the window, and poor Val, whining dismally, paws on the window-sill, watched him too. As the cab vanished out of the drive Matron leant down and patted Val, remarking:

"After all, what's thirty-seven? A man's at his best then, and none the worse because he has always been so busy that he doesn't even know what's the matter with him when he's got it--rash out all over him--got it badly."

Thus it was that when Lallie returned to B. House, front door, front hall, front stairs, though her boots were dreadful, she found a lovely fire in her bedroom and Matron there arranging a little tea-table beside the armchair on the hearth. Moreover Matron insisted on her changing everything there and then, and helped her to do it, finally dosing her with ammoniated quinine before she would give her any tea. She asked no questions of Lallie, but while the girl devoured crisp toast and a boiled egg, entertained her with various items of College news, among them that there was a case of scarlet fever in one of the houses.

"Isn't Miss Foster in a dreadful state?" asked Lallie.

"Well, she's worried and anxious, but so are we all. It's not the right term for it either, and the boy can't have brought it back with him--it's too late in the term--so the question is where did he get it? One always dreads an epidemic of any kind in a large school. We haven't had a real bad one for four years, and then it was in the summer term, which was better. It's always so much easier to get people well in summer."

"I got it that time too. Of course Paddy came back with it. Three holidays in succession he came back with something, and gave it to me every time; and he was so sick to have it in the holidays instead of missing school. But I should think this house is pretty safe. I never smelt so many disinfectants in my life till I came here--Come in!"

Miss Foster followed her knock, and she heard Lallie's last words.

The fire, lit three hours before its proper time; the tea-table; the presence of Matron; above all the certainty from the few words she had overheard that she, herself, was the subject of their discourse, all combined to rob her manner of any geniality she might have intended to impart to it. So annoyed was she that Matron should have taken upon herself to give Lallie tea without her--Miss Foster's orders, and that Lallie, as she concluded, had actually lit her own fire in the middle of the afternoon without by your leave of any sort, that she found nothing to say but:

"You're back I see, and have had tea--are you unwell?"

"Thank you, no," Lallie answered with quite equal frigidity, "but I was tired and hungry and very wet, and Matron was kind enough to bring me some tea."

"Mr. Bevan asked me to tell you that he has been unexpectedly called to Oxford and will not be back to-night."

"Won't you sit down, Miss Foster? Must you go, Matron? Thank you so much. Matron told me Tony had to go; it was he who asked her to see that I had tea. I hope it has not been troublesome?" Lallie added politely, rising from her chair.

Miss Foster stood in the middle of the room, large, remote, unapproachable; manifestly disapproving.

"I shall esteem it a favour, Miss Clonmell, if, in future, you will let me know beforehand when you intend to be absent from a meal."

"Certainly, Miss Foster; then I may as well tell you now that I shall not be home for luncheon to-morrow. I'm so glad you reminded me. Won't you sit down?"