Part 19 (1/2)

”Don't you see what a grand chance you have been throwing away all this time?” she said. ”If you bowled _round_ the wicket, you would--”

”I see, I see!” roared Pip, slapping his leg. ”Confound my thick head!

The umpire! If I bowl over the wicket I'm in full view of the batsman all the time; but with my diagonal run, if I bowled _round_ the wicket I should pa.s.s behind the umpire just before delivering the ball, and so bother the batsman? Is that it?”

”That's it. You should have thought it out for yourself years ago,” said the girl reprovingly.

The conversation was interrupted by their arrival at Mrs. Blane's house.

Miss Innes was immediately snapped up to play tennis, and Pip drifted off in search of the lady to whom he was wont to refer with mingled pride and depression as his ”best girl.” They greeted each other in their usual manner, the balance of cordiality being heavily on Pip's side; and Miss Carr inquired--

”Who is your friend--the school-girl person in the white frock?”

Pip, anxious to clear himself of any appearance of faithlessness, explained that Miss Innes was a friend of his sister's, and hastened on his own part to disclaim anything approaching intimacy with the lady. He then craved the favour of a game of croquet.

”Not at present,” said Miss Carr, who had just been introduced to a young Guardsman,--”I'll see later. But you can go and get me some strawberries and bring them over to the croquet-lawn.”

Pip departed as bidden; but somehow he was not conscious of the glow of heroic devotion that usually actuated him when obeying Madeline Carr's behests. He had a feeling that she might have said ”Please!” and a further feeling that ”other people”--no further specification--would have done so at once.

At this point in his reflections he arrived at the croquet-lawn with the strawberries, and was promptly commanded to put them down and stand by for further orders. This treatment, customary though it was, annoyed him; and, feeling unusually independent and a.s.sertive, he drifted behind a rhododendron bush, where he encountered his crony, Mr. Richard Blane, the son of the house, who was enjoying a quiet cigarette during a brief lull in the arduous labour of dispensing hospitality.

”Hallo, Pip!”

”Hallo!”

”Cigarette?”

”Thanks.”

The two smoked silently for a moment, sitting side by side on the garden-roller.

”I say,” inquired Mr. Blane, ”who is that flapper you brought with you?

All right--eh?”

”Name of Innes,” replied Pip shortly. ”Scotch--pal of Pipette's.”

”Seems to be a pal of Cayley's, too,” said Blane. ”They were having a quiet ice in the shrubbery just now. Very thick, they looked.”

”Is Cayley here, then?” said Pip, looking more interested.

”Yes. Has he given you your Blue yet?”

Pip shook his head gloomily.

”Bad luck! Well, there are still a few days. I expect he is waiting to see if the wicket is going to be hard or soft.”

”I suppose he hasn't given it to Honeyburn?”

”Don't think so.”

”I expect he will,” said Pip in resigned tones.