Part 23 (1/2)

'No more I have,' said the head-mistress, and she took the thermometer to the window and examined it. Angela tried rather feebly to recover her resigned expression, which she had completely dropped in the last few minutes; and her school-fellows exchanged a look of apprehension.

'Poor Angela!' said Miss Finlayson, pensively, as she dipped the thermometer into a gla.s.s of water.

Angela put her hand to her head, and the other two closed round her sympathetically.

'I am truly sorry for you,' continued Miss Finlayson, returning the thermometer to her pocket and sighing deeply.

The triumvirate gazed at her in a scared fas.h.i.+on.

'Is she--is she going to have scarlet fever, _really_?' asked Barbara, anxiously.

Miss Finlayson walked slowly across the room, shaking her head. She turned when she reached the door, and her eyes twinkled. 'I am afraid not,'

she said, and they heard her laughing to herself as she ran downstairs.

The triumvirate had very little time to congratulate Angela on her escape before their attention was caught by a loud 'Coo-ey!' from the garden below. Certainly 'quorranteen' was full of diversions this afternoon.

'Kit! Kit! That's Kit!' shouted Babs, and a series of flying leaps took her across to the window. In another minute the sash was flung wide, and she was leaning out as far as the laws of balance allowed her. She was right about the 'Coo-ey!' for there on the lawn below stood her favourite brother, and by his side stood Jill and Auntie Anna.

'Well, well,' said the old lady, leaning on her blue-k.n.o.bbed cane and looking more like a witch than ever, 'and what is the meaning of this, I should like to know? A fine lot of trouble you're giving people with your tricks, you young monkey!'

'Oh, it's all right,' Babs a.s.sured her; 'we've made it up with Finny, and she's not a bit cross, and next time we're going to think first, and we're never going to pay a bit of attention to the old Canon till we're grown up. Then we shan't make any more mistakes, she says.'

'It's to be hoped not, for I think you've made a young silly of yourself all the same,' remarked Christopher, frankly. 'Whatever made you do it, Babe?'

Barbara looked a little crestfallen. It would be easier to explain their escapade to twenty Canons than to one brother, even when it was a favourite brother like Kit. Jill came hurriedly to the rescue.

'Never mind about that, Kit,' she said. 'Think how lucky it is that she hasn't caught scarlet fever, after all.'

Barbara cheered up. 'Even Angela doesn't think she's going to have it now,' she observed; 'and she's been thinking she's got it, ever since we went into quarantine; so we shall be able to come out again the day after to-morrow. Of course it means sums and flannel petticoats and all those horrible things as well; but still, we shall be able to practise up for the gym display, and that's much more important. You're all coming to the gym display, aren't you?'

'Rather!' said Kit. 'It's the day after the others break up; and even Egbert says he doesn't mind coming, though it's only a girls' school, and he says he doesn't expect much. Of course, Will is awfully keen on coming, and so is Peter; but that's only for the grub, so don't you make any mistake about it.'

'I don't know why Egbert is so mighty grand,' objected Barbara. 'Our gym is really _serious_, I can tell you. You should see Angela on the rings; and as for Jean Murray--why, I forgot! You don't know them yet!'

She disappeared abruptly from the window, while Auntie Anna said something about leaving the young people to themselves, and strolled off towards the house. Kit was attacked with a sudden fit of shyness at the prospect of being presented to two perfectly strange schoolgirls; and he shouted at Barbara to 'come back and chuck it!' But Barbara did not hear him, and he edged behind Jill for protection.

Upstairs, in the 'quorranteen,' Barbara was trying with some difficulty to persuade Jean and Angela to show themselves.

'Oh no!' they both said, getting as far away as possible from the window, and contriving to look neglected. 'Never mind us, Babe; _please_ go on talking to your people.'

'But it's _Kit_!' represented Babs, as if that settled the matter at once.

'He's my favourite brother, and he's a genius, and he's only thirteen, and he has asthma so badly you'd think he was going to die. You _must_ want to know Kit! Besides, Jill is there too.'

'Jill Urquhart?' cried Angela. 'Why didn't you say so before? Of course, we want to see Jill Urquhart!'

So the triumvirate squeezed themselves on to the narrow window-seat, and hung in a row over the window-ledge, while Jill smiled and nodded from below, and said pleasant things to them in her pretty soft voice. For all that, her old school-fellows did not feel at their ease with her; for they had suddenly made the discovery that Jill Urquhart, who used to be the privileged possessor of boots to be unlaced and desks to be put away, and other things now connected with Margaret Hulme, had somehow changed into a daintily dressed, grown-up sort of visitor, who had to hold up her skirt because the gra.s.s was wet. No one, not even the head girl, held up her skirt at Wootton Beeches.

'This is Jean Murray, Kit, and that's Angela Wilkins,' said Babs, by way of introduction; and Christopher, who was still seeking protection behind his cousin, pulled off his cap and grinned. Then there was a pause, and the situation became rather strained. Barbara looked round at her two companions, and could not imagine what had come over them.

Why, she wondered, did they not chatter away as they usually did? They only giggled faintly, however; and Angela was covered with blushes. So far, the introduction did not seem a success.