“Sir—Lord Legerwoodl” she said desperately. “I cannot—”
“You cannot talk to me in the open street. Very true! You shall tell me all about it next week, when I return to town. I must go now.”
He gave her hand a pat, and released it, bade farewell to his son and daughter, mounted his horse, and rode off in the wake of the carriages.
“What can Papa have meant?” wondered Meg. “What are you to tell him, Kitty. Why do you look so oddly?”
“I don’t think I have anything I need tell him,” replied Kitty, in a hollow tone. “Do you, Freddy?”
“No,” said Freddy, “but there’s something he might have told me! Dash it, I ought to have thought of it before! When does term end?” He saw that he had mystified his audience, and added impatiently: “Oxford!”
“Good gracious, I don’t know!” said Meg. “What does it signify?”
“It may not signify anything to you, but it dashed well does to me!” said Freddy, with feeling. “Because if m’father’s gone junketing off to Margate, and I’ve to take care of Charlie, it’s the outside of enough! The last time Charlie was in town he was pounded by the Watch, and I had to go and bail him out at three in the morning, because he’d spent his last groat! Yes, you may laugh, Meg, but you know very well that if Charlie comes down from Oxford, and finds m’father away, he’ll be bound to kick up some lark or other! I don’t say it ain’t a natural thing to do, but the thing is I
shall get the blame for it. I must go and take a look at the calendar at once.”
“Freddy, you will come to see me later, won’t you?” Kitty begged. “You know we have something important to discuss!”