“One mayn’t like dirt without making such a row.”
“That’s like father’s boy,” she said, and he wrung her hand again.
They found Armine coiled up before the fire with a book, and Jock greeted him with—
“Well, you little donkey, there’s such a shindy at the Croft as you never heard.”
“Mother, you know!” cried Armine, running into her outstretched arms and being covered with her kisses. “But who told?” he asked.
“John and Jessie,” said Jock. “They always said they would if anyone said anything against you to mother or Uncle Robert.”
“Against me?” said Armine.
“Yes,” said Jock. “Didn’t you know it got about through some of the juniors or their sisters that it was Brownlow maximus gently chastising you for bad language, and of course Mrs. Coffinkey told Aunt Ellen.”
“Oh, but Jock,” cried Armine, turning round in consternation, “I hope Rob does not know.”
And on further pressing it was extracted that Rob, when sent home with him, had threatened him with the great black vaulted cellars of Kencroft if he divulged the truth. When Jock left them the relief of pouring out the whole history to the mother was evidently great.