Tommy Wideawake Part 24

Then she remembered that it must not be answered--for was not Tommy in disgrace--at any rate, as far as she was concerned?

And had they not quarrelled so deeply that repair was almost an impossibility?

It was very presumptuous of him to think that she should answer it.

She would remain where she was, in icy stillness, mastering the prepositions with an iron hand.

A pleasing sense of virtue stole into her being, mixed with visions of a downcast, brown face somewhere in the shrubbery, and for five long minutes silence reigned. Then the whistle rang out again, a little louder, and surely it sounded almost penitent.

A picture of a broken-hearted Tommy, whistling in dry-eyed sorrow, rose to her eyes.

It was true that his offences had been great, but then, was not forgiveness divine?

Madge felt sure that this was so. Was it not written in fair characters in her last copy-book?

She closed her book and stood by the gla.s.s doors.

It is but rarely that we rise to the divine. Yet here was an opportunity, and down the steps she ran, light-footed, over the thin strip of lawn and into the deep laurels.

And it was not Tommy after all, but only the pale boy who, with commendable perspicacity, had borrowed Tommy's whistle.

For a moment Madge flushed angrily, for she did not greatly like the pale boy, and this was a deception.

But the morning was sweet, and the pale boy was surely better than a preposition.

"I say: let's go through the wood," he said. "I've hidden some sandwiches in a tree up there and we'll have a picnic, and you can be back in time for lunch."

"All right," said Madge, "come along."

And in the wood they met Tommy, with the light of resolve in his eye and battle written in his face.

Madge was not quite sure whether she was glad or sorry to meet him, nor could she tell, as they looked straight into one another's eyes, the nature of Tommy's feelings on the subject.

He looked a little grave, and spoke as one who had rehea.r.s.ed against a probable encounter.

"I want to apologise to you for our meeting the other day," he said stiffly.

Madge stared, and Tommy turned to the pale boy.

"And to you," he said.

The pale boy looked a little puzzled, but grinned.

"That's all right," he said. "I could see--"

"Excuse me, I haven't quite finished"--and the pale boy stopped, with his mouth open.

"I think you had better go home, Madge."

"Why--Tommy?"

Tommy looked down.

"You had better--really," he repeated.

The pale boy interposed.

"She is out with me," he said.

"So I see--she had better go home."

"Why--who says so?"

"If she doesn't she will see you get a licking. P'raps--p'raps she wouldn't like that."

Tommy still looked at the path.

"I--I'm not going to fight anyone to-day."

"You are--you're jolly well going to fight me, now."

The pale boy smiled, a little uncertainly.

"You--I shouldn't have thought you'd want a second dose," he said.

"Rather," said Tommy, cheerfully.

Madge looked from one to the other.

"Don't fight," she said. "Please--please don't fight--why should you?"

"You'd much better run home," said Tommy again.

"I shan't--I shall stay here."

Tommy sighed.

"All right," he said, taking off his coat. "Then, of course, you must, you know."

"I tell you I'm not going to fight," repeated the pale boy.

"Rot," said Tommy.

Five minutes later Tommy contentedly resumed his coat, his face flushed with victory.

The pale boy was leaning against a tree, with a handkerchief to his nose and one eye awry, whimpering vindictive epithets at his opponent--but Madge was nowhere to be seen.

Tommy looked up and down the leafy vistas a little disappointedly. Then,