Part 2 (1/2)
”Well, what did you come for, old chum?” he asked, smiting her shoulder with rough friendliness. ”Not to complain of this slow old hole, I bet?”
”Get me something to eat, and I'll tell you.”
”Oh, hang, Kitty! I can't. Cook will swear, or go to the mother, or something. Can't you wait till you get home?”
”No, I can't. And I didn't tell you to go to cook, or to _her_; did I, stupid? Isn't there a pantry window, and isn't the larder next to the pantry, and aren't the servants having breakfast in the kitchen, out of the way? Eh?”
”Well, I'm bothered! But I can't get up to that window, anyhow.”
”There's a loose brick just below, and you _know_ it, you lazy boy!
What's the use of being exactly six foot, if you can't climb into a window on the ground floor? _I_ can, and I'm only five foot four. Oh, you needn't bother, if you're afraid! I can keep my news, for that matter.”
”I don't believe there is any news. Why, I only saw you yesterday afternoon. And nothing ever happens in Ivingdon. You are only rotting, aren't you, Kit?”
”All right; I don't want to tell you, I'm sure. Good-bye,” said Katharine, without moving a step.
He called himself a fool, and told her she was a beastly nuisance, and that of course there wasn't any news, and he didn't want to hear it if there was. And he finally strolled round to the pantry window, as she knew he would, and returned with a medley of provisions in his hands.
They laughed together at the odd selection he had made,--at the cold pie he was balancing on a slice of bread, and the jam tart that crowned the jug of milk; and they fought over everything like two young animals, and drank out of the same jug and spilled half its contents, and ended in chasing one another round the paddock for no reason whatever.
”Walk home with me, and I'll tell you the news. Come on, Ted!” she cried.
”Guess I will, and chance it. If she doesn't like my being late for breakfast she'll have to do the other thing. Through with you, Kitty, and don't make the hole any larger! There's always the chance that she might have it mended, in a spasm of extravagance, and that would be so bally awkward for us.”
She told her news as they went swinging along side by side over the wet fields, leaping the pools of standing water, and switching the wet twigs in each other's face. But they grew quieter as the interest of the tale deepened; and by the time Katharine had reached the episode of the chalk pit, Ted was walking gloomily along with his hands in his pockets and his eyes bent on the ground.
”You always have all the luck, Kitty,” he said mournfully. ”Why wasn't I there? Think of the use I should have been in helping him into the carriage; only think of it, Kitty!”
”You wouldn't have been a bit of good,” she returned cruelly. ”You're much too clumsy. They wouldn't even let Jim or daddy help. _I_ held his head, so there!”
”Well, I suppose I could have held his beastly head, too, couldn't I?”
roared Ted.
”It wasn't a beastly head; it was awfully nice,--hair all silky, not baby's curls like yours,” said Katharine scornfully. ”And wasn't he plucky, too! His leg must have hurt frightfully, but he just didn't say a word or utter a sound. All the way home, whenever the thing jolted him, he just screwed up his mouth and looked at me, and that was all. It was the finest thing I've ever seen.”
”But you haven't seen much,” said Ted.
”No, I haven't. But I've seen you squirm when you had toothache. And you're not fit to speak to if you have an ordinary headache,” laughed Katharine.
They walked the rest of the way in silence.
”That is where he lies now,” said Katharine, with a dramatic gesture towards the spare-room window. Her cheeks were red with excitement, and she never noticed the look on Ted's face as he shrugged his shoulders and made a great pretence of whistling carelessly.
”What sort of a chap is he? Some tourist bounder, I suppose,” he condescended to say.
”He isn't a bounder. He has awfully nice hands,--white, and thin, and soft. He's rather pale, with a lot of black hair and a curly beard.”
”What a played-out chap to make such a fuss about!” said Ted, turning away contemptuously. ”Sounds more like a monkey than anything else.
Good-bye. I wish you joy of him!”