In the Mist of the Mountains Part 28

She leaned her bicycle against a ficus-covered post and crossed the verandah, a little surprised at the silence, for she was accustomed on her morning visits to being run into by Max on the red tricycle and to find little girls everywhere swinging, skipping, hoop-bowling, or doll-carrying.

She crossed the verandah and rang the bell; the door was closed--a most unusual thing.

Anna appeared and seemed to hesitate about asking her in.

"Would you mind coming into the dining-room, ma'am?" she said at last; for how might a sitting-room be used for its legitimate purpose with a ramping rebel at large in it?

"Certainly," said Miss Kinross. "Is Miss Bibby in?"

"Ye-e-es," said Anna, and opened the dining-room door.

The little girls were all here. Miss Bibby had said they might do exactly as they liked this morning. Pauline sat crocheting at a grey woollen shoulder cape which was destined for some old woman in some old asylum, and was among the least interesting of her work. Lynn was reading. Not face downward, on a rug and with swiftly-moving eyes and hurrying breath, as was her custom with a living book, but she had merely picked up the _History of England_ and sat with it quite listlessly on a chair. And m.u.f.fie was standing at the window, breathing on a pane from time to time and then drearily drawing figures upon her breath.

How could one be gay and do as one liked with the sitting-room door shut and locked on Little Knickerbockers?

Miss Bibby herself was standing before the bookcase, turning over a volume here and another one there. When Miss Kinross came in she was at Herbert Spencer's _Education_, thinking that surely so wise and practical an observer of youth as he must have offered some recipe for such a situation as had just pa.s.sed.

But Spencer held out no helping hand. The lines on her forehead deepened.

"Are you all well?" said Miss Kinross, coming forward to shake hands with her. "How do you do, little girls? How are the coughs? And where is my little cavalier?"

"He--he--" said Miss Bibby, hesitating a second, then deciding not quite to conceal the outrage since here might be wisdom. Surely here _must_ be wisdom; for could any one dwell side by side with an author like Hugh Kinross and not absorb it in every pore?

"Max has been," said Miss Bibby, "not--not quite good, I am sorry to say. He--I have been obliged to leave him by himself in the sitting-room."

"Oh dear," said Kate, "poor little chap; what has he done?"

Miss Bibby looked helplessly from one little girl to the other. She could not actually repeat the terrible language, and yet she did so badly need help in the emergency.

"He--I regret to say he quite forgot himself and used some naughty words," she said. "What would you do in my position, Miss Kinross?"

"Oh," said Kate with a comfortable smile, "I'd let him out. He's such a little fellow."

"But he hasn't said he is sorry," said Miss Bibby anxiously. "I told him that when he rang the sitting-room bell I would go at once, for I should know it meant he was sorry."

"And hasn't he rung it, the young scamp?" said Kate, smiling.

"Well, yes, he did, several times," admitted Miss Bibby unhappily; "but when I opened the door he said he had rung to say he wasn't sorry."

Kate laughed outright.

"What a man he will make!" she said admiringly.

Miss Bibby looked as if she did not quite follow the train of reasoning.

"So I took the bell away," she continued, "and told him I would come every half hour and ask through the door if he was sorry. The second half hour is nearly up."

"Oh," said Kate impulsively, "let's go and peep through the verandah window. Half an hour is a frightful time, Miss Bibby; he will have cried himself sick. Think what a baby he is!"

They tiptoed round to the verandah, the little girls at their heels, and they peeped cautiously through the window.

Max was riding his tricycle. He had arranged the furniture to suit himself--a little table here, a chair there, and the rest of the things pushed out of the way; and he was earnestly practising some sharp turns and curves, in and out, out and in of the articles he had stood about.

He had his tongue a little way out, a sure sign of the undivided attention he was giving the work. The way he manipulated the handles, the command he had over the little machine was really admirable.

Kate was convulsed.

"Why--why," said Miss Bibby, "how did he get his tricycle? It certainly was not there when I went in last. Who gave him his tricycle?"

"I did, Miss Bibby," said Lynn meekly. "I didn't think you'd mind."

"Oh, Lynn!" said Miss Bibby.

"But he looked so lonely," said the little girl piteously.

Miss Bibby went round at once to the other door and demanded "Trike,"

though Kate strongly advised against it.

"I've quite fin'shed with it," said the rebel sweetly, and dismounted without a struggle.

Miss Bibby wheeled it out, somewhat ignominiously.

"I want you to sit down quietly and think how very naughty you have been, Max," she said. "Remember, I am coming in a few minutes to ask you if you are sorry."

"A'right," said Max cheerfully.

The ladies went back to the dining-room and conversation took a wider trend, for Miss Bibby seemed not too certain now of the judgment of the author's sister.

"I brought you round that book I promised," said Miss Kinross, "but I haven't found your story yet. I have hunted everywhere again for it, and I _cannot_ think where Hugh could have put it. Are you sure you are not in a hurry for it? I _could_ write to Hugh, of course, though I really don't know his address; he only told me Melbourne."

"Oh, no," said Miss Bibby, "I would not have him worried on any account.

A few days will not make any difference. I can wait until he returns.

And it is possible"--her cheeks flushed, her eyes sparkled with the hope--"that he has taken the MS with him and means to look through it while he is away."

"But he did look through it," said Kate; "he told me he had spent all the morning over it. That is what makes me doubtful that he can have taken it. He said so distinctly that it was on his desk and that I was to take it across to you."

Her eyes held a troubled look. Hugh was so hopelessly untidy with his papers that it was just possible the precious MS had fallen into the waste-paper basket and been reduced to smoke by Lizzie. Still it seemed unwise to meet trouble half-way. Hugh would be back now any day, so there was no use to worry the poor auth.o.r.ess unnecessarily.

"Well," she said, "I must be off if I am to get my ride. But I tell you I shall not enjoy it a bit without the little man on the little red tricycle pounding along behind me to the corner as usual. You couldn't find it possible to let him out now? He _must_ feel good by this. You never feel naughty as long as this, do you, m.u.f.fie?"

"Never," said m.u.f.fie stoutly.

"Boys are so different," sighed Miss Bibby.

"Well, let us have one more peep before I go," pleaded Kate.

They tiptoed round to the verandah window again. But this time there was no sign whatever of the rebel though both doors were still locked on the outside. Miss Bibby flew back in terror to the door that opened into the hall; she had taken the key of the verandah doorway. But as her eyes went wildly searching among the furniture they fell upon a dusty little sandal with a brown little foot attached. The boy had crawled so completely underneath the low sofa that nothing more of him was visible.

"Max," said Miss Bibby.