"That's true, miss. As William—that was my third—used to say, when I rated him for leaning a little too far towards his failing: 'Conveniences have their inconveniences and comforts their crosses.' Well, you mustn't keep me here gossiping or I shan't be ready for young William when he arrives. He's due at three o'clock this very afternoon."
She bustled away, too full of William the second, junior, to note the smile with which Eola received the intimation that it was she who was detaining Mrs. Hulver.
At twelve o'clock Wenaston came in. He was earlier than usual. As a rule he did not appear till the lunch bell rang at one. Eola seated in the verandah looked up as she heard his step.
"Well? What's the news? How are things going?" she asked.
"Badly! very badly! Only a quarter of the boys returned this morning. It will take a week or ten days to regain their confidence, and the loss of time will have an effect on my results. I would not have believed that so much feeling could have existed over the matter had I not seen its consequences."
"Did you hear how he got home yesterday?"
"Not without accident. You know, perhaps, that he came here after leaving college at Mrs. Hulver's invitation."
"She told me that he had lunched with her," Eola replied. "I was glad to think that the poor fellow had had a good midday dinner. She said that it was the first hot meal he had eaten since he left the boat at Bombay."
"It wasn't to give him food that she asked him in. She heard through the servants that a party of the boys were lying in wait to rough-handle him on his way home; and this was her way of preventing mischief."
"I wonder they dared to think of such a thing!" said Eola, with some indignation.