“Did you see Mr. Grimshaw looking out of the recitation-room window just as we left the yard?”
“No was he, though?”
“I am sure of it.”
“Then he must have seen all the row.”
“Shouldn't wonder.”
“No, he didn't,” broke in Adams, “or he would have stopped it short metre; but I guess be saw you pitching into the pump which you did uncommonly strong—and of course be smelt mischief directly.”
“Well, it can't be helped now,” I reflected.
“—As the monkey said when he fell out of the cocoanut tree,” added Charley Marden, trying to make me laugh.
It was early candle-light when we reached the house. Miss Abigail, opening the front door, started back at my hilarious appearance. I tried to smile upon her sweetly, but the smile, rippling over my swollen cheek, and dying away like a spent wave on my nose, produced an expression of which Miss Abigail declared she had never seen the like excepting on the face of a Chinese idol.
She hustled me unceremoniously into the presence of my grandfather in the sitting-room. Captain Nutter, as the recognized professional warrior of our family, could not consistently take me to task for fighting Conway; nor was he disposed to do so; for the Captain was well aware of the long-continued provocation I had endured.