To her, Tony Bevan was above all the old friend tried by time; "the best of good sorts," "the decentest old thing." That he happened also to be a schoolmaster was perhaps unfortunate, but she generously declined to let this regrettable fact influence her attitude towards him.
She knew well that he wanted her above all things to be happy, and with him she always was happy. Furthermore she had loyally kept her resolution not to worry Tony with any knowledge of the friction that existed between herself and Miss Foster. He was not much at B. House, and being of a good-natured and tolerant disposition himself, he always gave other people credit for being similarly well disposed until he had ample proof to the contrary. Besides, in his presence Lallie and Miss Foster almost unconsciously adopted a manner towards one another that was at least free from signs of open hostility.
When Lallie had been a week at B. House she took her host's personal appearance firmly in hand. In the morning she flew after him to brush his coat before he went up to College. She exclaimed indignantly at the "bagsomeness" of his trouser knees. Finding that he did not possess any form of trouser-press she insisted on his going with her into the town to buy one. And when it was sent home, she folded the offending garments and placed them in it herself. She objected to ties that looked "like a worn-out garter," and said so. She even suggested that certain old and well-loved coats might be sent to the Mission, but here Tony was firm in his opposition. He would buy a new suit to please her, but part with his old coats he would not; and Lallie was far too diplomatic to press the matter.
She tried always to be at home to make tea for him when he came in at half-past five, and cut short many a tea-party to keep this tryst. She was in great demand at other houses, especially the houses where the heads were musical.
She was waiting for Tony on the evening of the footprint encounter with Miss Foster, and when she had fed and warmed and cosseted him generally she sat down in the big chair opposite his and faced him squarely, announcing:
"Hunting begins this week, Tony."
"Does it really? How the year is getting on."
"Tony, dear, don't you think I might hunt if I took out one of the men from the riding school as groom--just one day a week?"
Tony shook his head.
"If your father had wanted you to hunt I am sure he would have suggested it, and he would probably have made arrangements for you to have a couple of the horses over; but he has never so much as mentioned it, and I can't let you do it on my own responsibility. I don't believe he'd like it for you here either. It isn't as if I could go with you."