I noiselessly gained the lawn and followed the youth, who wandered with an air of negligence across the grounds by a shrubbery path which soon was lost in the grove beneath Whimble. Among the trees I ventured to draw closer to him, and was nearly discovered in consequence. For when I slipped around a stout oak to creep upon him, I caught him lying or rather rolling on the other side, convulsed with silent mirth! I marched backward on tiptoes, collided with a tree, and returned to the House.
After a plunge in the bath which Aire has kindly invited me to share, and after such improvement of my dress as my tramping kit afforded, I knocked on Crofts’ door and had the secret out of him. He was waging a pitched battle with some shirt-studs, and would have told me anything in return for my relief.
“That red-haired chap? Foggins’ new man. He came ‘sweetheartin’ ’ this afternoon, and I had a little talk with him.”
“But who is Foggins, and how does his new man come to be here at break of day? How does he come to be here at all?”
“Oh, they’ve slung a footbridge over the Water down below. Finished late last night. Foggins sells us our milk. What do you mean by ‘break of day?’ ”
“I saw this milk carrier dashing like a red streak across the lawn when I set out this morning.”
“You did! So did I.”
“You!”
“I heard him coming round the House past Alberta’s room, while I lay awake at some ungodly early hour. I looked out, saw he was carrying a pair of spiked shoes in one hand, the milk can in the other. That looked queer. So I got into a pair of slippers and my dressing-gown and went to the upper end of the passage on this floor, intending to go out of the door and down the outside flight of steps to find what was up. But I saw everything through the glass. Rosa Clay—”
“Ah, Rosa!”