Miss Margaret knew instinctively that in putting it to rights Tommy meant to flick up the whole strip and so plunge headlong into disgrace once more. With diplomacy and tact, therefore, and apparently unintentionally, she stood right on the middle of the strip and began to talk to Mrs. Tregennis.
Before Miss Margaret left the kitchen Tregennis came in from the front. Once more the story of Tommy’s mishap was repeated.
Tregennis turned to Miss Margaret. “I shall have to take ’e in hand myself, Miss,” he said slowly, “if so be as he isn’t a better boy.”
Miss Margaret left the kitchen and, smiling, told the Brown Lady of the awesome threat. Tregennis was a loving and entirely lovable man, but much too gentle, too simple and too kindly to cope with Tommy’s boisterous daring.
Downstairs in the kitchen gloom had again descended. Tommy stuck his hands in his pockets and looked up into his mother’s face. “Tell-tit,” he said, “oh, tell-tit,” and with the full vigour of his sturdy legs he kicked the carpet strip awry.
CHAPTER XIV
IT was more than a week since Tommy’s Ladies had come to Draeth. Easter was over, and until Whitsuntide no more steamer-loads of Plymouth trippers would visit the little town. On landing the steamer passengers invariably followed the same plan. Presumably during the short voyage they had had enough of the sea, for on leaving the boat they at once trailed up the main street of Draeth, either in scattering groups or in twos. The groups included children: little girls with tightly curled hair and little boys in velvet suits. Sometimes the twos held each other’s hands, spoke little and looked down at the ground as they walked; sometimes they were parted by the whole width of the roadway, each seemingly indifferent to the presence of the other.