Part 72 (1/2)

She turned to him impulsively. ”Isn't it horrid when the thing you've been planning for and wanting ever so long happens and everyone else is cross?”

The blue eyes looked quizzical. ”Very, I should say,” said Lucas. ”Would it be presumptuous to ask what has been happening and who is cross?”

Dot's answering smile held more of pathos than mirth. Her lips took a quivering, downward droop. ”It's Nap,” she said.

He raised his brows a little. ”Nap seems the general pivot on which all grievances turn,” he remarked.

Dot leaned her chin on her hand. ”I do so hate making mistakes,” she said.

”We all do it,” said Lucas.

”Oh, you don't!” She turned and gravely regarded him. ”You are always wise,” she said, ”never headlong.”

”Which only demonstrates your ignorance and the kindness of your heart,”

said Lucas. ”But go on, won't you? What has Nap been doing?”

”Oh, nothing. Nap is all right. It isn't Nap I mind.” Again that doleful droop of the lips became apparent, together with a little quiver of the voice undeniably piteous. ”It--it's Bertie,” whispered Dot. ”I--I--it's very ridiculous, isn't it? I'm a wee bit afraid of Bertie, do you know?”

”St. Christopher!” said Lucas, in astonishment.

”Yes. But you won't ever tell him, will you?” she pleaded anxiously.

”If--if he knew or guessed--all my prestige would be gone. I shouldn't be able to manage him at all. He--he is rather difficult to manage sometimes, don't you think?”

Lucas was frowning slightly. ”I guess I can manage him,” he said.

”No doubt you could. I expect you always have. He respects you,” said Dot, with unwitting wistfulness.

Lucas turned his head and looked at her very steadily. ”Will you tell me something, Dot?” he said.

She nodded.

”Why are you afraid of Bertie?”

She hesitated.

”Come!” he said. ”Surely you're not afraid of me too!”

The banter in his voice was touched with a tenderness that went straight to Dot's young heart. She leaned down impetuously and held his hand.

”No,” she said tremulously. ”I'm not such a little idiot as that, Luke.

I'm afraid of Bertie because I've done something he wouldn't like. It's a very little thing, Luke. It is, really. But--but it's bothered me off and on all the winter. And now that Nap is home, I feel much worse--as if--as if it had been really wrong. And--and”--she broke down suddenly--”I know I ought to tell him. But--I can't.”

”Tell me,” said Lucas gently.

”And you will tell him for me?”

”If you wish me to do so.”

”I don't like it,” sobbed Dot. ”It's so despicable of me. I've wanted to tell him for ever so long. But he has been so good to me all this time, and--and somehow I couldn't face it. We haven't even squabbled for months now. It--it seemed such a pity to spoil everything when it really didn't make any difference to anyone if he knew or not.”