Part 56 (1/2)

He vaulted the stile into the wood, and held up his hand to her. As she placed hers within it she summoned her resolution and spoke.

”Nap, I'm sorry I said what I did just now.”

He raised his brows for the fraction of a second. ”I forget what you said.”

She flushed a little. ”Because you don't choose to remember. But I am sorry I spoke all the same. I lost my temper, and I--I suppose I had no right to.”

”Pray don't apologise,” he said. ”It made no difference, I a.s.sure you.”

But this was not what Dot wanted. She descended to the ground and tried again. It was something at least to have broken the silence.

”Nap,” she said, standing still with her hands nervously clasped behind her, ”please don't think me--impertinent, or anything of that sort. But I can't help knowing that you are feeling pretty bad about it. And--and”

she began to falter--”I know you are not a brute really. You didn't mean to do it.”

A curious little smile came into Nap's face. ”It's good of you to make excuses for me,” he observed. ”You happen to know me rather well, don't you?”

”I know you are in trouble,” she answered rather piteously.

”And--I'm sorry.”

”Thanks!” he said. ”Do we part here?”

She thrust out her hand impulsively. ”I thought we decided to be--friends,” she said, a sharp quiver in her voice.

”Well?” said Nap. He did not touch her hand. His fingers were wound in the thong of his riding-crop and strained at it incessantly as if seeking to snap it asunder.

Dot was on the verge of tears. She choked them back desperately. ”You might behave as if we were,” she said.

He continued to tug grimly at the whip-lash. ”I'm not friends with anyone at the present moment,” he said. ”But it isn't worth crying over anyway.

Why don't you run home and play draughts with Bertie?”

”Because I'm not what you take me for!” Dot suddenly laid trembling hands on the creaking leather and faced him with all her courage. ”I can't help what you think of me,” she said rather breathlessly. ”But I'm not going to leave you here by yourself. You may be as furious as you like. I simply won't!”

He pulled the whip sharply from her grasp. She thought for the moment that he actually was furious and braced herself to meet the tempest of his wrath. And then to her amazement he spoke in a tone that held neither sarcasm nor resentment, only a detached sort of curiosity.

”Are you quite sure I'm worth all this trouble?”

”Quite sure,” she answered emphatically.

”And I wonder how you arrived at that conclusion,” he said with a twist of the mouth that was scarcely humorous.

She did not answer, for she felt utterly unequal to the discussion.

They began to walk on down the mossy pathway. Suddenly an idea came to Dot. ”I only wish Lady Carfax were here,” she exclaimed impetuously.

”She would know how to convince you of that.”

”Would she?” said Nap. He shot a swift look at the girl beside him, then: ”You see, Lady Carfax has thrown me over,” he told her very deliberately.

Dot gave a great start. ”Oh, surely not! She would never throw over anyone. And you have always been such friends.”