A Fourth Form Friendship (22 page)

"I'm so glad you did!" put in Aldred.

"But she was fearfully disappointed not to see you, darling, and so sorry when we told her you were ill. We talked about you for quite a long time. Didn't your ears burn this afternoon?"

"I didn't notice."

"Well, I'm sure they ought to have done so. I won't tell you all we said, because you don't like to be praised, but you'd have been very flattered if you'd heard. Cousin Marion remembers you quite distinctly."

"I shouldn't know her."

"I dare say not; you wouldn't notice her particularly at Seaforth. By the by--isn't it absurd?--Cousin Marion actually thought you had sisters!"

"Why should she suppose so?" Aldred's voice was uneasy.

"She said they were with you, and so like you--one a little older, and the other younger."

"How ridiculous!"

"Yes, I told her you are the only girl. Perhaps you had some friends with you at the concert?"

"I expect I had. I really can't remember now."

"And another funny thing: she said she was sure your name was Mary."

"So it is, Aldred Mary, after my mother," replied Aldred, thankful to be able to say what was really the case, though she knew her truth was only further aiding her deception.

"That explains it, of course. I suppose the newspaper forgot the 'Aldred', and simply put 'Miss Mary Laurence'. Newspaper reporters often make mistakes."

"So do other people," thought Aldred, though she did not say it aloud.

"We were so anxious for Cousin Marion to come over to Grassingford," continued Mabel. "Mother wanted to bring her home with us this afternoon, to stay for a few days, but she wouldn't be persuaded. She says her doctor has forbidden her to motor."

"Then won't she be coming at all?" Aldred tried to speak unconcernedly, but she could not quite banish the anxiety from her tone.

"Ah, I knew you wanted to see her! No, dear, I'm sorry to say it's impossible. She's still too great an invalid to take more than a gentle little drive in a landau. She might have come by train, but she decided that it would be too much for her. I'm afraid you won't meet her now, as we go back to school on Wednesday."

So the danger was over! The relief was so intense that Aldred had to bury her face in the pillow to hide her feelings. Her ruse had been successful, and for the present, at any rate, she might consider herself safe.

"I've tired you out!" exclaimed Mabel self-reproachfully. "I might have remembered your poor head. How stupid and thoughtless I am! Good night, darling! I've missed you terribly all to-day. It will be absolute bliss when you're yourself again."

When Dr. Rawlins arrived next morning, he found that his bottle of medicine had been like the quack nostrums advertised in the newspapers, and had worked a lightning cure.

"I knew it would have a beneficial effect," he remarked, with a twinkle in his eye that only Aldred understood.

"Then you think she may really come downstairs, Doctor?" asked Lady Muriel, who was still a little worried.

"Most decidedly! There's nothing to prevent it. The sooner she's out in the fresh air the better. A game of tennis would be the best tonic I can prescribe. Her medicine? Oh, well, she's so wonderfully improved that I'll excuse her from finishing the bottle! She might keep it, in case she's ever troubled with the same symptoms again."

"Isn't he nice?" said Mabel enthusiastically afterwards. "I always like Dr. Rawlins so much. I think he's the kindest man I know. I often say it's almost worth while being ill, to have him come to see one. And he's simply enormously clever!"

"He certainly seems to cure his patients quickly," replied Aldred, with doubtful gratitude.

On the River

Aldred had found the family at the Rectory a decided addition to the attractions of Grassingford. The girls, although they were "out" and "finished", were very companionable, and made much of both Mabel and her friend; as for the boys, when first their stiffness and shyness had worn off, they proved exceedingly jolly. Mabel was on excellent terms with her cousins, who were frequent visitors at the Hall, and might always be counted upon to take part in any fresh plans or projects.

On the Monday following Aldred's sudden illness and recovery, she and Mabel were invited to spend the afternoon at the Rectory. It was their last opportunity, as they were to start for the Grange first thing on Wednesday morning, and Tuesday must be reserved for packing and saying good-byes.

"We're all off this week," said Francis Farrington, as the visitors were welcomed and borne away into the garden. "We are due back on Thursday, worse luck! I could have done with another fortnight. I hate school!"

"You lazy boy!" said Mabel.

"All right! I'm lazy if you like. I wonder, though, how you'd care to change places with me, and be in old Barlow's Form. He's the most fearful Turk, and gets as savage as a bear if one doesn't construe properly--very different from your Miss Drummonds and Miss Bardsleys."

Mabel laughed.

"Shall I go to Stavebury with Piers and Godfrey, and you can take Aldred back to Birkwood?"

"Done! It would be jolly good fun--for me, at any rate. I should be living in clover."

"Except for the work--you mustn't forget that."

"Work! I don't call your lessons work! They seem mostly cookery and wood-carving, varied by hockey and tennis."

"Don't be nasty! We have to use our brains during school hours and prep., though we do have jolly times in between. You needn't laugh at cookery, for you were ready enough to eat the queen's cakes that Aldred and I made last week."

"I'm not laughing. They were delicious; I only wish you'd make some more! All the same, don't you suppose that the amount of grind you go through is anything like equal to ours; if you had old Barlow to set your exercises, you'd soon find out."

"Well, you don't want girls to swat as hard as boys," said Piers, who was rather fond of airing his opinions on various topics. "Spoils their complexions! They're put in the world to do the ornamental."

"Are we, indeed, sir? Thank you!" replied Mabel, with a mock curtsy. "I wonder what you know about complexions, by the by? As for exerting ourselves, we can do quite as much as you, in our own way."

"Granted, so long as you keep to your own way, and don't poach on ours!"

"Here, you two, stop bickering!" said Godfrey. "When Piers begins an argument he'll hold forth for hours together. We don't want to discuss 'Women's Sphere', or the 'Education Question'! Leave these to the Debating Society, and let's enjoy ourselves! How would Mabel and Aldred like to come with us to Holt's farm? The pater wants us to take a message there. It's only three miles away, and Aldred, at any rate, hasn't seen the river."

"I've never been to Holt's farm either," said Mabel "I haven't even crossed the ferry."

"It would be better fun than tennis," agreed Piers. "Our court seems a very poor affair after the one at the Hall; it's hardly worth playing on."

Both Mabel and Aldred felt disposed for a walk. It was a fresh and bright afternoon, and the prospect of seeing a new part of the neighbourhood was attractive. Mabel often went out riding on horseback, or in the motor with her parents, and thus knew the high roads for many miles around; but unless she accompanied her cousins, she seldom explored the lanes and by-paths.

"In one way it's much jollier to go on foot," she declared. "You can stop to pick flowers, or climb on to banks; and I do so enjoy getting over stiles!"

"You'll have enough of them this afternoon," laughed Francis. "There are at least twelve to cross, if we go through the fields by the river."

"Are Sibyl and Ida coming with us?" asked Mabel.

"No, they think the Grants may be calling, so they don't dare to be out. Would you each like a stick? We've an assortment here, in the umbrella stand; this is a nice little one with a crooked handle for Aldred, and I can recommend this cherrywood for you, Mabel."

The country at Grassingford was exceedingly pretty. It was not grand, nor mountainous, but was well wooded and dotted with picturesque farmsteads. There were deep lanes, with high hedges, which at the present season of the year were a mass of flowering hawthorn; and every little copse and spinney showed blue with hyacinths. There was a delightful spring-like feeling in the air, that combination of sun and breeze, bursting buds, and opening leaves which promises returning summer, renews all the vitality of human beings, and sets us singing like the birds for the mere joy of being alive. Such days seem echoes of the Golden Age slipped out of Paradise, days when we want to forget houses and cities and civilization, and go into the fields to learn the lessons Mother Nature has to teach us--lessons as old as the hills, but fresh every year, when they are fraught with the mystery of new creation.

The path to the river lay across fields, and it would have been difficult to find it without a guide who knew the way. It zigzagged between patches of growing corn and hay, turned sharply round corners, and for a short distance even led down the half-dry bed of a stream.

"The fact is, it isn't a proper path at all," said Francis. "It's only a short cut that we found out for ourselves; it saves a mile."

"It's lovely! I should want to come by it, even if it were a mile longer instead of shorter," said Aldred, who always preferred the romantic to the practical. "How do you manage when the stream is full?"

"Oh! we can't get along unless we wade. We came once last winter and had to turn back; the water was up to this stone, a regular rushing torrent, very different from what it is now. Can you scramble over this wall? Take my hand. Now, you see, we are in the lane, and we shall get to the ferry in a minute."

The old-fashioned ferry was a most picturesque feature of the tidal river, a large, flat-bottomed boat being worked on chains, which stretched from one bank to the other. Sometimes a horse and cart, or a flock of sheep, would be taken over, as well as ordinary passengers, the whole cargo being slowly wound across the water by the ferryman, who turned a creaking windlass on board. The whole arrangement seemed a delightful survival of days when no one was ever in a hurry, and life revolved on leisurely wheels, as different from our modern rush and excitement as a bullock cart is from a motor car. Aldred was fascinated with the quaint contrivance, and anxious to cross on it; but Francis had other projects.

"I say! Wouldn't it be jolly if we could get Pritchard to lend us his small boat, and row ourselves up the river to Holt's farm?" he suggested.

"Ripping!" said Godfrey. "Why not?"

"It's not a bad idea," said Piers; "but have you fellows brought any money with you? for I haven't."

"I've left my worldly wealth in my other trousers' pocket," admitted Godfrey. "Francis, you'll have to pay the piper."

"All serene!"

"I wonder what he'd charge?"

"I don't know, but we can ask him. Here he is now. You'd like a row, girls, wouldn't you?"

"Immensely!" said Mabel.

"Oh, I do hope he'll let us! It would be such fun!" added Aldred.

"We want to know if you'll hire out your small boat," said Francis to the ferryman. "What would you charge to let us have it for an hour, or perhaps a little longer?"

Pritchard stroked the short, grey stubble on his chin reflectively.

"Are you sure you can manage a boat amongst you?" he queried.

"Of course!" answered Francis, rather loftily. "We all know how to row; we're as accustomed to the river as you are yourself."

"I don't know about that," said Pritchard, smiling. "You haven't got fifty years at the back of you yet. It'll take a fairly strong arm to pull the lot of you, especially against the tide. The boat's bespoke for half-past four too."

Francis complacently felt his muscles, as if to suggest that he was quite equal to the occasion.

"Say what you want for it," he replied.

"We'll undertake to bring it back in heaps of time," interposed Godfrey.

"How would half a crown be for the hour?"

"I'm afraid I've only got a two-shilling piece with me," said Francis, coming down a little from his high horse.

"And two shillings is the usual price without a boatman," added Piers.

"I'd a deal rather you had a boatman with you, only I can't spare the time. Well, I don't want to be hard on you; we won't quarrel over the sixpence. One of the oars is spliced, and you'll have to be careful of it. Thomas, help to run down the boat, will you?"

With the help of two strong pairs of arms, the
Maid of Llangollen
went grating along the shingle towards the river. She was short and broad, and evidently not intended for racing. The boys inspected her with a critical eye.

"She's a dreadfully heavy old tub," said Piers, "but she's seaworthy, and I dare say we shall have some fun out of her."

"Who's to row stroke?" said Francis.

"I am, of course," answered Piers, in a tone that admitted of no dispute. "Godfrey may have the other oar, and you can steer."

"And what may we do?" asked Mabel.

"The ornamental, of course! You and Aldred can just sit and enjoy yourselves."

"We'd much rather take our share of the work."

"Well, perhaps we'll let you have a turn by and by, if you're so particularly anxious."

Pritchard by this time had run the boat down the bank and rowed her round to a small jetty, from which it was easy to board her.

"There's a nice place for you misses here, in the stern," he said. "Be careful! It's wet in the bottom. There's a tin can under the seat, if you want to bale her out."

It was most delightful on the river. In spite of her clumsy build, the
Maid of Llangollen
seemed to glide along in the easiest manner. Mabel and Aldred leaned back luxuriously in the stern of the boat, trailing their hands in the water, and watching the regular dip of the oars. The party were all in the best of spirits, and began to exchange jokes and sing songs.

"Yo di diddle diddle dee, Five jolly sea-dogs are we. We've to heave the anchor, and our friends all hanker To join our companee!"

chanted Francis.