Elizabeth found the cloak-room empty. She assured herself that every one had gone home—of course; but her eyes flashed round the press room, and to that corner between the press and the door, for a blue-frocked little girl with red hair. And, of course, as she was now Geraldine Montgomery, the disappointment of finding the corner empty was not so keen as it would have been merely to Elizabeth Bruce.
"I think," said this foolish little girl aloud, "I'll wear my leghorn hat with the ostrich feathers in it to-day. Papa always likes that." And she took her old pink bonnet down from her peg and slipped it upon her head. Then she stuffed her books into her black school-bag and turned to the door.
Elizabeth Bruce fancied Cyril would be away there under the saplings playing knucklebones impatiently, and her eyes eagerly scanned the deserted playground. No kneeling figures, no Nellie Underwood, no Cyril, no knucklebones. For a second the tears trembled in her eyes at the thought that no one had waited for her, but in a minute Elizabeth Bruce slipped away, and Geraldine Montgomery in her leghorn hat was treading the homeward way.
Behind her, she told herself, an old gipsy woman was skulking—she had seen the ostrich feathers, the "rare lace upon the simple rich dress."
It was just behind the store that the gipsy and Geraldine both disappeared.
The store turned one blank wall upon Carlyle Road—which was the home road—and Elizabeth came round the corner sharply and then stood still. There, kneeling upon the red clayey earth, his face to the wall, was big John Brown.
Elizabeth made out that he was writing or figuring with blue chalk upon the wall's blankness, and although her heart feared the big rough boy she had "fought," she drew nearer.
"Hulloa!" said John Brown, flushing when he saw the small pinafored maiden he had an unpleasant recollection of beating so short a time ago, and whom he had carefully avoided ever since.
"Hulloa!" said Betty, surprised into speaking to him.
Brown made a seat of his boot-heels and surveyed her, being much too bashful to open up a conversation.