The Willoughby Captains Part 27

"All right! Six-thirty, mind, and chokers!" said Brown, not a little relieved to have sc.r.a.ped up two friends for the festive occasion. At the appointed time--or rather before the appointed time, for they arrived at twenty minutes past six--our two heroes, arrayed in their Sunday jackets and white ties, presented themselves at the house of their host. They had "put it on" considerably in order to get ahead of the doctor's party; for they considered that--as Parson expressed it--"it would be a jolly lot less blushy work" to be there before the head master arrived. There was no doubt about their success in this little manoeuvre, for when the servant opened the door the hall was full of rout seats, and a man, uncommonly like the greengrocer, in a dress coat, was busily unpacking plates out of a small hamper.

Into this scene of confusion Parson and Telson were ushered, and here they were left standing for about five minutes, interested spectators, till the hall was cleared and the domestic had leisure to go and tell Master Harry of their arrival.

Master Harry was dressing, and sent down word they had better go into the shoe-room till he came down. Which they did, and amused themselves during the interval with trying on Mr Brown's Wellingtons, and tying together the laces of all Harry's boots they could discover.

In due time Harry appeared in grand array. "How jolly early you are!"

was his hospitable greeting. "You said six-thirty, didn't you?" said Telson. "Yes; it's only just that now. n.o.body will be here for a quarter of an hour yet. You had better come in and see ma."

The two guests obeyed cheerfully. Ma was in the drawing-room, busily adjusting the sashes of the three juvenile Misses Brown, with her mouth full of pins. So all she could do was to smile pleasantly at her two visitors and nod her head as they each came up and held out their hands to be shaken.

"Better sit down," suggested Brown.

Parson and Telson thereupon retreated to the sofa, on the edge of which they sat for another five or ten minutes, looking about them complacently, and not attempting to break the silence of the scene.

The silence, however, was soon broken by a loud double knock at the hall door, which was the signal for Mr Brown, senior, to bolt into the room in a guilty way with one cuff not quite b.u.t.toned, and stand on the hearthrug with as free-and-easy an air as if he had been waiting there a quarter of an hour at least. Knock followed knock in quick succession, and after the usual amount of fluttering in the hall, the greengrocer flung open the drawing-room door and ushered in Dr and Mrs Patrick, Miss Stringer, and half a dozen other arrivals.

Our two heroes, sitting side by side, unnoticed on the edge of the sofa, had full opportunity to take stock of the various guests, most of whom were strangers to them.

As every one appeared to be about the doctor's age, things promised slowly for Parson and Telson, whose interest in Brown's party decidedly languished when finally they found themselves swept off their perch and helplessly wedged into a corner by an impenetrable phalanx of skirts.

But this was nothing compared with a discovery they made at the same time that they had missed their tea! There was a merry rattle of cups and spoons in a room far off, through the half-open door of which they could catch glimpses of persons drinking tea, and of Brown handing round biscuits and cake. The sight of this was too much to be borne. It was at least worth an effort to retrieve their fatal mistake.

"I say," said Telson, looking for his friend round the skirts of a stately female, "hadn't we better go and help Brown, Parson?"

Luckless youth! The lady in question, hearing the unexpected voice at her side, backed a little and caught sight of the speaker.

"What, dear?" she said, benevolently, taking his hand and sitting down on the sofa; "and who are you, my little man?"

"My little man" was fairly trapped; there was no escaping this seizure.

Parson got away safely to the tea-room, and the sight of him dodging about among the cakes and cups only added to the misery of the hapless Telson.

"Who are you, my little dear?" said the lady, who was no other than Miss Stringer herself.

Telson, fortunately for him, was ignorant of the fact--as ignorant, indeed, as Miss Stringer was of the fact that the little dear she was addressing was a Willoughbite.

"Telson, ma'am," said Telson, following Parson with longing eyes.

"Johnny?" said the lady.

"No--Augustus," replied the proud bearer of the name.

Miss Stringer surveyed him benevolently. He was a nice-looking boy, was Telson--and the lady thought so too.

"And will you give me a kiss, Augustus dear?" she said, with her most winning smile.

What could Augustus do? A hundred desperate alternatives darted through his mind. He would bolt into the tea-room; he would shout for help; he would show fight; he would-- But while he was making up his mind what he would do, he found himself being kissed on the cheek in the most barefaced manner, before everybody, by this extraordinary female; and, more than that, being actually set down on the sofa beside her! He only hoped Parson or Brown had not seen it.

Well for Miss Stringer she did not guess the wrath that boiled in the bosom of her small companion!

"And do you live here, dear?" inquired she, pleased to have this opportunity of studying the juvenile human nature in which she was so much interested.

"No, I don't," said Telson, surlily; then, suddenly recollecting he was in polite though disagreeable company, he added, "ma'am."

"And where do you go to school, pray?" inquired the spinster.

"Oh, Willoughby," replied Telson, who had gradually given up all hope of tea, and was making up his mind to his fate.

Miss Stringer gave a little start at this piece of information, and was on the point of betraying her ident.i.ty, but she forbore. "After all,"

thought she, "he might be more constrained if I were to enlighten him on that subject."

"So you go to Willoughby," she said, with interest. "And how do you like it?"

"Oh, well enough," said Telson, relenting somewhat towards his companion as she showed no further signs of kissing him. "Nice lot of fellows, you know, on the whole."

"Indeed? Let me see, who is the head master?" inquired the lady.

"Oh, Paddy--that old boy there by the fire. And that's Mrs Paddy there with the curls."

Miss Stringer appeared to receive another shock at this piece of information, which, however, Telson, flattered by her evident interest in his remarks, did not take to heart.

"And," said she, presently, with a slight nervousness in her voice, "I hope you like them?"

"Oh," blurted out Telson, "Paddy's not so bad, but the dame's an old beast, you know--at least, so fellows say. I say," added he, "don't you tell her I said so!"

Miss Stringer regarded him with a peculiar smile, which the boy at once took to mean a promise. So he rattled on. "And she's got a sister, or somebody hangs about the place, worse than any of them. Why, when old Wynd--"

"And," said Miss Stringer, suddenly--"and which house are you in--in the schoolhouse?"

"Hullo, then! you know Willoughby?" demanded Telson sharply.

Miss Stringer looked confused, as well she might, but replied, "Ah! all public schools have a schoolhouse, have they not?"

"I suppose so," said Telson. "Yes, I'm a schoolhouse fellow. I'm the captain's f.a.g, you know--old Riddell."

"Mr Riddell is the captain, then?"

"Rather! Do you know him?"

Poor Miss Stringer! How sad it is, to be sure, when once we go astray.

She, the Griffin of Willoughby, was as much at the mercy of this honest unconscious f.a.g as if he had caught her in the act of picking a pocket.

For how could she reveal herself now?

"I--I think I met him once," she said.

"Where? at his home, was it?" asked Telson, who seemed to be urged by a most fiendish curiosity on the subject.

"No," faltered the lady; "it was--er--I think it was at Dr Patrick's."