"All o-ver."
"Take your hand from your eyes. What made you sick?"
"I f-fell."
"Fell!" her tone was contemptuous. "Where did you fall?"
"D-down."
Mrs. Handsomebody became ironical.
"How _extraordinary_! I have never heard of people falling up."
"They can fall out," interrupted Angel.
Mrs. Handsomebody rapped her ruler in his direction.
"Silence!" she gobbled. "Not another word from you." Then, turning to
me--"You say that you fell down, hurt yourself, and have since been in
hiding. Now tell me _precisely_ what happened from the moment that you
ventured beyond the bounds I have prescribed for you."
There was no use in hedging. I saw that there was nothing for it but to
drown this woman out; so I raised my voice and drowned her out.
My next sensation was that of a scuffle, several sharp smacks with the
ruler, and at last being sat down very hard on a chair in our bedroom. Mrs.
Handsomebody was standing in the doorway. I had never seen her with so high
a colour.
"You will remain in that chair," she commanded, "until tea time. Do not
loll on the bed. And you may rest assured that I shall leave no stone
unturned till I have discovered every detail of this prank. It is at such
times as these that I regret ever having undertaken the charge of three
such unruly boys. It is only the high regard in which I hold your father
that makes it tolerable. I hope you will take advantage of your solitude to
review thoroughly your past."
She closed the door with deliberate forebearance, then I heard the key
click in the lock and her inexorable retreating footsteps.
I found my wad of a handkerchief and rubbed my cheeks. I had stopped crying
but my body still was shaken. For a long time I sat staring straight before
me busy with plans for the afternoon. Then I fell asleep.
A soft thumping on the panel of the door roused me at last. I felt stiff
and rather desolate.
"John!" It was The Seraph's voice. "I say, John! You should be a dwagon,
an' when I kick on the door you should woar fwightfully."
"Where's _she_?" 'Twas thus we designated our governess.
"Gone away out. Will you be a dwagon, John?"
Obligingly I dropped to my hands and knees and ambled to the door. The
Seraph kicked it vigorously and I began to roar. I was pleased to find that
so much crying had left my voice very husky so that I could indeed roar
horribly. The louder The Seraph kicked the louder I roared. It was
exhausting, and I had had about enough of it when I heard Mary Ellen
pounding up the uncarpeted back stairs.
"If you kick that dure onct more--" she panted--"ye little tormint--I'll
put a tin ear on ye! As fer you, Masther John, 'tis yersilf has a voice
like young thunder!"
She unlocked the door and threw it wide open; Angel and The Seraph crowded
in after her. Mary Ellen's sleeves were rolled above her elbows, her red
face was covered with little beads of perspiration, and she wore large
goloshes. A savour of soap suds, mops, and the corners of old pantries,
emanated from her. She extended to me a moist palm on which lay a thick
slice of bread spread with cold veal gravy.
"This," said she, "is to stay ye till tea-time; an' now let me git back to
me scrubbin' or the suds'll be all dried up on me."
But I caught her apron and held her fast.
"Oh, don't go, Mary Ellen!" I begged, "I've something awfully interesting
to tell you. Do sit down!"
"I will not thin. And you've nothin' to tell me that I haven't got be heart
already."
"But this is about Harry, who had supper with us and Mr. Watlin and Tony.
It's a most surprising adventure. Just wait and hear." I dragged her to a
chair.
She settled back with a smile of relaxation. "Aw well," she remarked, "who
would be foriver workin' fer small pay an' little thanks? Out wid your
story my lambie." And she drew The Seraph on her ample lap.
So while they clustered about me I told my whole adventure, ending with
Harry's plea that I interview Margery on his behalf.
"It's a 'normous responsibility," I sighed.
"Don't you worry," said Mary Ellen, "she'll want him home fast enough, a
fine young gintleman like him. Now I'm minded of it, their cook did tell me
that the Bishop had a son that was a regular playboy.
"He's not a playboy," I retorted. "He's splendid--and _please_ Mary Ellen,
there's something I want you to do for me. You must let me go this minute
to see Margery and find out if she wants him back again."
"Oh, she'll have him, no fear." This with a broad smile.
"But I've got to _ask_ her. I promised. It's a 'normous responsibility.
Will you _please_ let me, Mary El-len?"
"I will not," replied Mary Ellen, firmly. "It'ud be as much as my place is
worth."