Lady Charlotte, still guided by Mr. Grimes, then assumed a more peremptory tone. She declared that in the interests of both children it was impossible for things to go on any longer as they had been going. Already the boy was ten. The plea that nothing could be done until Mr. Sydenham returned was a mere delaying device. The boy ought to go to school forthwith. Lady Charlotte was extremely sorry that the Misses Stubland would not come to any agreement upon this urgent matter. She could not rest content with things in this state, and she would be obliged to consider what her course of action—for the time had come for her to take action—must be.
With the way thus cleared, Mr. Grimes set his forces in motion. “Leave it to me, Lady Charlotte,” he said. “Leave it to me.” A polite young man appeared one morning seated in a chariot of fire outside the road gate of the School of St. George and the Venerable Bede. He was in one of those strange and novel portents, a “motor-car.” This alone made him interesting and attractive, and it greatly impressed young Winterbaum to discover that the visitor had come about Joan and Peter. Young Winterbaum went out to scrutinize the motor-car and its driver, and see if there was anything wrong about it. But it was difficult to underestimate.
“It’s a petrol car,” he said. “Belsize.... Those are fine lamps.”
Miss Murgatroyd gathered that the guardians of Joan and Peter found it necessary to interview the children, and had sent the car to fetch them.
“Miss Stubland said nothing of this when I saw her the day before yesterday,” said Miss Murgatroyd. “We do not care for interruptions in the children’s work.”
The young man explained that the case was urgent. “Lady Charlotte has been called away. And she must see the children before she goes out of England.”
There was something very reassuring about the motor-car. They departed cheerfully to the ill-concealed envy and admiration of young Winterbaum.
The young man had red hair, a white, freckled face, and a costly and remarkable made-up necktie of green plush. The expression of his pale blue eyes was apprehensive, and ever and again he blew. His efforts at conversation were fragmentary and unilluminating. “I got to take you for a long ride,” he said, seating himself between Peter and Joan. “A lovely long ride.”
“Where?” said Joan.
“You’ll see in a bit,” said the young man.