straight back? I wish we'd met anywhere but at a bazaar."
"So do I," she said heartfeltly, and caressed the now careless Aberdeen:
it was at a bazaar that she had had to sell that angel.
"Mayn't I walk home with you?" he said. And she could not think of any
polite way of saying no, though she knew just how terrible Alcibiades
would make the final parting.
Next morning the chain dragged by Alcibiades was slightly thicker; it
also was filed, and this too Judy failed to notice. Early as it was she
did not go out in the mackintosh but in something simple and blue, with
kingfisher's wings in her hat.
The morning was thinly bright. Alcibiades saw a cat and chased it
towards Morden College just as Judy met Captain Graeme. It was, for her,
impossible not to follow the "cur." And how could the Captain do
otherwise than follow, too? And if two people walk together it is
churlish not to talk.
Next day the chain was thicker, the hour propitious, and the walk
longer; that was the day when she found out that he had known her father
in South Africa.
The days passed with a delightful monotony. The Aunt and her pet Tabbies
all day, a sound sleep, an early waking, a heavenly meeting with
Alcibiades at the back door, the restoring of him to his master. And
every day the chain grew heavier, the walks longer, the talks more
interesting and more intimate.
It was very wrong, of course, but what was the girl to do? You cannot be
rude to a man who is saving your dog, your darling, from rat-poisons,
rivers and ropes. And if dogs _will_ break chains, why--so will girls.
It was on Christmas Day that the spell was shattered. Judy awoke at the
accustomed time, but no welcome whine, no pathetic scrabble of eager
paws broke the respectable stillness of the Aunt's house. Judy listened.
She even crept down to the side gate. A feeling of misery, of real
physical faintness came over her. Alcibiades was not there! he had not
come! He had, indeed, forgotten her.
The conviction that the master of Alcibiades would be the last to
appreciate the new attachment of his dog comforted her a little; but for
all that the day was grey, life seemed well-nigh worthless. Judy now had
leisure to reconsider her position, and she was not pleased with
herself. It was in the thick of the Christmas beef that the thought
awoke.
"_He_ is tired of meeting me; he has locked Alcibiades up. If he hadn't,
the darling _must_ have come." Since this solution left Alcibiades
without a stain upon his faithful character, it ought to have been
comforting, but it wasn't.
She felt her cheeks flush.
"Good gracious, child," said the Aunt, "what are you turning that
curious purple colour for? If the fire's too much for you, let Mary put
the screen to the back of your chair, for goodness' sake."
When the plum-pudding's remains had passed away and the perfunctory
dessert was over the Aunt retired to rest.
Judy was left to face the grey afternoon alone. She sat staring into the
fire till her eyes ached. She felt very lonely, very injured, very
forlorn. There was a footfall on the steps--a manly tread; a knock at
the door--a kind of I have-a-perfect-right-to-knock-here-if-I-like sort
of knock.
Judy jumped up to look in the glass and pat her hair, for no one but an
idiot could have helped knowing who it was that stepped and knocked.
He came in.
"Alone?" said he. "What luck! I asked for the Aunt. Meant to say Friend
of your Father's, and all that. But this is better. Judy, I couldn't
stand it.... She's coming. I can hear her."
There was indeed a sound of stout house boots trampling overhead, of
drawers being pulled out, of wardrobe doors being opened.
"I wish everything was different," said he; "but, oh Judy, darling, do
say yes! say it now, this minute; and then when she comes down I can
tell her we're engaged--see?"
* * * * *
"It's all very well," said Judy, two hours later, when, with the licence
of an engaged young lady, she said good-bye to her lover at the front
door. "You say you do--and--and yes, of course, I'm glad--but Alcibiades
doesn't love me any more."
"Doesn't he? you wait till I bring him to-morrow!"
"But he never came this morning."
"Poor little beast! Judy, the fact is I've gone on making the chain
heavier and heavier, and this morning--well, it was too much for him. He
couldn't drag it all the way: it was a regular ship's cable, don't you
know? I came up with him at Blackheath Station, and he was so done I had
to carry him all the way home in my arms. He's quite all right again
now; I left him at home, tied to the fire-irons in my bedroom."
"Then he _does_ love me, after all," said Judy.
"Well, he's not the only one," said the Captain.
And at that moment came from the other side of the front door the
familiar whine, the well-known scratching mingled with strange clanking
noises.
Next instant three happy people were embracing on the door-mat amid the
sobs of Judy, the laughter of her lover, the yelps of Alcibiades, and
the deafening rattle of a poker, a pair of tongs, and half a shovel.
PRINTED AT THE EDINBURGH PRESS, 9 AND 11 YOUNG STREET.
* * * * *
Transcriber's Note
Punctuation has been standardized. Hyphenation has been retained
as it appears in the original publication. The following changes
were made to the original text:
Page 21, "candelabre" changed to "candelabra"
(two brass twenty-lighted candelabra)
Page 32, duplicate "the" removed from text
(Half the students)
Page 39, "accordian" changed to "accordion"
(her accordion-pleated skirts)
Page 99, "stammererd" changed to "stammered"
(stammered half a word)
Page 197, "her's" changed to "hers"
(he was hers sincerely)
Page 276, duplicate "in" removed
(Can you call in an hour?)