‘Not so wild with you as you deserve, I dare say,’ remarked Dr. Hurst. ‘Indeed, it was because Miss Urquhart was making such an unnecessary fuss about you, that I promised to come and look for you.’
He thought that the boy, although a boy, would not notice the slip he had made just before in calling his pretty cousin by her first name; but Kit noticed fast enough. He had not much time, however, to think about it before they pulled up with a jerk at the back entrance to Wootton Beeches. He began to mumble out his thanks, while the Doctor helped him out of the overcoat and then put it on himself; but the young man cut him short.
‘Do you suppose I drove all those miles in the rain, at the end of a hard day’s work, for the sake of a scamp like you?’ he growled; and Christopher was left staring after him in the darkness.
In the holidays supper was not before nine o’clock at Wootton Beeches, so the boy had plenty of time to make himself presentable before the bell rang. He looked eagerly round the drawing-room when he went into it, but only the three elder boys were there.
‘Where’s Jill?’ he asked.
‘Oh, it’s you, is it?’ observed Egbert, without answering him. As the eldest of the family, he felt that he ought to administer some sort of rebuke to Kit for the commotion he had caused in the household. Indeed, he had said as much to the others before the boy came in; but there was something about Kit that would make any one fight shy of rebuking him, when it came to the point. So Egbert was rather relieved than otherwise when Wilfred interrupted him.
‘Jill’s upstairs,’ he said, looking over his book at Kit. ‘She wants to be with the Babe when she wakes up, in case she’s excited or anything.’
Kit flung himself into an arm-chair and whistled carelessly. Whatever his feelings were in the matter, he was not going to let the family see them. There was rather an awkward silence, which Peter broke by remarking that it was ten minutes to nine, upon which Egbert said something about a clean collar and went out of the room. There was a feeling of relief when he had gone, Egbert having reached the age when it was never quite possible to say whether he was going to side with the enemy or not.
‘Egbert’s awfully wild with you,’ observed Peter, with smiling frankness. ‘He says you ought to be kicked.’
‘Let him do it,’ grunted Kit, indifferently. Having given the Doctor a glimpse of his real feelings not so many minutes ago, he did not intend to betray himself again yet awhile.