"I think, Travice, he scarcely remembers how it happened," spoke Mrs. Arkell. "Don't press him; he seems tired. I am so glad the dean gave him holiday."
At this juncture, Mr. St. John came in with the medal. He stayed a few minutes, telling Harry he should take him for a drive in the course of the day, which Mrs. Arkell negatived; she thought it might not be well for the giddiness he complained of in the head. St. John took his leave, and Henry went with him outside, to hear the news in private of what had taken place in the college hall. Mrs. Arkell had left the room then, and Travice took the opportunity to approach Lucy.
"Does it strike you that there's any mystery about this fall, Lucy?"
"Mystery!" she repeated, raising her eyes. "In what way?"
"It is one of two things: either that he does not remember how he fell, or that he won't tell. I think it is the latter; there is a restraint in his manner when speaking of it: an evident reluctance to speak."
"But why should he not speak of it?"
"There lies what I call the mystery. A sensational word, you will say, for so slight a matter. I may be wrong—if you have not noticed anything. What's that you are so busy over?"
Lucy held it up to the light, blushing excessively at the same time. It was Harry's rowing jersey, and it was getting the worse for wear. Boating would soon be coming in.
"It wants darning nearly all over, it is so thin," she said. "And the difficulty is to darn it so that the darn shall be neither seen nor suspected on the right side."
"Can't you patch it?" asked Travice.