Lallie came down to breakfast in her habit. Miss Foster did not ask where she was going or why she was riding so early, but contented herself with a remark to the effect that the very short and skimpy habits now in vogue were singularly ungraceful and unbecoming. Lallie replied that the shortness of the habit mattered very little if only the boots below it were irreproachable, and that after all a habit was not for walking in and that it was better to look a bit bunchy on foot than to be dragged if you happened to be thrown. Whereupon Miss Foster made a complicated sort of sound, something between a snort and a sniff, and the meal proceeded in silence.
Only by going straight into College from the station could Tony take his class at the proper time, but immediately morning school was over he rushed down to B. House, hoping to find Lallie and take her up to watch the pick-up.
His letters were spread out on the hall table, and one, conspicuous from the fact that it was unstamped, caught his eye at once. He recognised the little upright writing so like Fitzroy Clonmell's.
As he read, Tony's honest face flushed, then paled to a look of pain and perplexity.
"Tony, dear," it ran, "I've disobeyed you and gone to the opening meet after all. I've not gone alone, and I assure you all will be well. Yesterday, in the town, I met a hunting friend of whom we saw a good deal last season, and he tempted me with a charming little mare whose clear destiny it was to carry me once; anyway--I fell--I gave in. His name is Ballinger--he is quite a nice man; but he doesn't ride a bit better than you, Tony, dear, so except as an escort I don't fancy I shall see much of him.
"This morning I had a letter from the Chesters up at Fareham, and they have asked me to go from to-morrow till Tuesday. They want me to sing at a Primrose meeting on Saturday; that I know you won't mind: it will get rid of me for a few days, and give you all a rest. Try not to be cross with me. I'm a tiresome wretch, I know, but I am also your loving Lallie."
Very deliberately Tony folded the letter, put it back in the envelope, and into his breast-pocket. He gathered up the rest of his letters and went to his study, but he made no attempt to read them. He forgot that he ought to go and watch the pick-up. He sat down by his desk, staring straight in front of him at nothing.
Evidently, he reflected, Lallie was unhappy in B. House; glad to get away. She was afraid he might say something to her about yesterday, and regardless of his expressed wish, nay his command, so far as he could be said to exercise any authority over her, she had disobeyed him. It had never so much as entered the realm of possibilities that she could defy him, and he was hurt. Never until that moment did he realise how much he counted upon her steady affection. He had always been so sure that he and Lallie thoroughly understood each other. From the time, when a little baby in her nurse's arms, she would hold out her own, struggling to be "taken" by the tall, shy undergraduate; throughout the somewhat stormy years of her childhood, when he was ever her confidant and her ally; during the many holidays he spent with Fitz and his family in Ireland, till the day, two years ago, when he first beheld her in a long frock with her clouds of dusky hair bound demurely round her head, and became aware with a little shock of foreboding that Lallie was growing up--never had he doubted her. And when he had got accustomed to her more grown-up appearance he speedily discovered that the real and essential Lallie was unchanged, that she was just as kind and merry and easily pleased, just as warm hearted and quick tempered, as neat fingered and capable and unexpected, as when her frocks reached barely to her knees.
"If I had seen her yesterday I don't believe she would have done this," Tony thought to himself; "it's not like her somehow to take the opportunity of my being away to do what she knows I would have done my best to prevent had I been at home. And this young Ballinger--he's no fit guardian for Lallie out hunting. Confound him! I wish he had stayed in his own shire. Fitz said I was not to discourage him, but I'm convinced he never meant she was to go out hunting with him. I suppose he is going to these Chesters, too; probably that's why she's going. I know nothing about the young man, but, like Charles Lamb, 'I'll d---- him at a venture.' It's too bad of Fitz shelving his parental responsibilities like this. Suppose anything happened to her to-day----"
This thought was so disquieting that Tony got up and walked about the room. Finally he opened and read his letters. Then Miss Foster came and added to his anxieties by informing him that A. J. Tarrant, a new boy, had that morning started a bad feverish cold and complained of sore throat.
"No rash yet," Miss Foster added gloomily, "but of course we've isolated him."
Altogether Tony wished he could have stayed in Oxford. Yet the day seemed very long, and when half-past five at last arrived Tony actually sprinted from the College to B. House.
A great wave of sound met him as he opened the front door. Lallie was playing the overture to Tanh?user. It certainly was neither meek nor repentant music. Nevertheless Tony ejaculated "Thank God!"
He opened the drawing-room door very gently. The ruddy firelight glowed and gloomed in waves of flame and shadow, but the opening of the door let in a long shaft of light from the hall, and with a final crash of chords Lallie turned on the piano stool, demanding:
"Is it you, Tony?"
"I didn't need to ask if it was you, and it was a great relief, I assure you. Had you a good day?"
Out of the shadows Lallie came forward into the ruddy circle of light.
"Your voice doesn't sound quite pleased with me," she said. "I must see your face to make sure. Please switch on a light and let me see."
She laid her little hands upon his shoulders and looked up searchingly into his face. The bright glare of the electric light made Tony blink, and he was so inexpressibly glad to see her again that his joy wholly crowded out the reproachful expression he had intended his homely features to assume.
He felt an overwhelming desire to take her in his arms, kiss her, and implore her to swear she would never go away again. It was only the certainty that she would kiss him back with the best will in the world, probably bursting into tears of repentance on his shoulder, that restrained Tony. He felt that it would not be playing the game. So very gently, with big hands that trembled somewhat, he removed those that lay so lightly on his shoulders and said, in a matter-of-fact voice:
"Naturally I was anxious. You see I thought we had agreed that there was to be no hunting until we heard from your father; and how could I tell how this--Mr. Ballinger might have mounted you?"
Lallie clasped her hands loosely in front of her, and stood before Tony with downcast eyes, and he forgot all about the matter under discussion in admiring her eyelashes.
"I didn't exactly promise," she murmured; then louder: "no, that's mean of me, and untruthful; I broke my word. I knew you wouldn't wish me to go--but I went--and I enjoyed it--rather. Not quite so much as I expected, though the little mare went like a bird. It was quite a short run; I was back here by three o'clock."
"Who brought you back?"
"Who brought me back? My dear, good Tony, I'm not a parcel nor a passenger; I came back. I studied the ordnance map of this district that's hanging in your study for a good hour last night. It was broad daylight when the run was over, and it's a very good country for signposts. I returned. Did you see Mr. Ballinger's cards in the hall? He came fussing here to see that I was all right when I was in the middle of changing, and he dutifully asked for Miss Foster, but she'd gone to the sewing-meeting for the Mission--I ought to have been there; I forgot all about it; I'm so sorry--and she's not back yet, so I sent down word that I was perfectly all right and resting, so he went empty away, poor man, longing for tea, I've no doubt; so must you be, we'll have it brought in here, Miss Foster won't be back till six. Some one's reading a paper to them while they sew, poor things! I'll have another tea with you, Tony. No lunch yesterday, no lunch to-day, and to-morrow will be the third day, though Mr. Ballinger did bring me a beautiful box of sandwiches, but I had no time to eat them."
"Mr. Ballinger! Why should he bring you sandwiches? Why didn't you ask Matron for some?"
"Oh, you dear goose! How could I ask for sandwiches when I was supposed to be going out to lunch. What would Miss Foster have said? Do you think anybody will tell her I went out hunting all by my gay lonesome?"
"It depends how many people knew you in the............