The invitation came from a boy of about sixteen, a slim, eminently attractive chap, who smiled persuasively through the aperture. Laurie knew that he had seen him somewhere, but it was not until they had followed, somewhat protestingly, into a hallway and from there into a large and shadowy drawing-room that he recognized him as one of the day pupils. Lee, it seemed, knew him slightly and called him by name.
“We oughtn’t to come in here,” Lee apologized. “We’re soaking wet, Starling.”
“It doesn’t matter,” answered their host. “Wait till I find a match and we’ll have a fire here.”
“Don’t bother, please,” George protested. “We’re going right on in a minute.”
“Might as well get dry a bit first. The fire’s all laid.” The boy held a match at the grate and in a moment the wood was snapping merrily. “Pull up some chairs, fellows. Here, try this. Some rain, isn’t it?”
“Rather,” agreed Lee. “By the way, do you know Turner? And Watson?” The three boys shook hands. “I didn’t know you lived here,” Lee continued. “Saw the house had been taken, but didn’t know who had it. Corking big place, isn’t it?”
Starling laughed. “It’s big all right, but it’s not so corking. Let me have that rain-coat, Turner. The rooms are so frightfully huge that you get lost in them! I have the bedroom above this, and the first morning I woke up in it I thought I was in the Sahara Desert! This was the only place we could find, though, that was for rent, and we had to take it. Dad came here on short notice and we didn’t have much time to look around. Pull up closer to the fire, Watson, and get your feet dry. I’ve got some slippers upstairs if you want to take your shoes off.”
“No, thanks. I guess the wet didn’t get through. I’ve seen you over at school, haven’t I?”
“Yes, I’m a day boy; one of the ‘Hep, heps!’”
Lee grinned. “Sort of a mean trick, that, Starling, but they always do it every year.”