Master and Maid

On the second Friday of term Anthony Bevan, whom all his world called "Bruiser Bevan," Housemaster of "B. House" in Hamchester College, sat at dessert with three of his prefects. They had exhaustively discussed the prospects of the coming football season, had mutually exchanged their holiday experiences, and now, when it was really time that the boys should betake themselves to their several studies, they still lingered enjoying the last few pleasant moments over the walnuts and the very light port that their housemaster considered suited to their young digestions.

The big window at the end of the room stood open to the soft September evening, and the sudden crunch of wheels upon the newly gravelled drive was plainly audible, followed as it was by a loud ring.

Master and boys fell silent, listening; and the parlour-maid opened the dining-room door.

"Please, sir, there's a young lady--" she began; when the tale was taken up by another voice, a young voice, singularly full and pleasant:

"It's me, Tony, dear; and didn't you expect me? Dad promised faithfully he would telegraph, but I suppose he forgot, as usual; and oh, I'm so tired! We had a good crossing, but I couldn't sleep, it was so stuffy."

Val, the Irish terrier, who always lay under his master's chair, rushed at the newcomer, leaping upon her in rapturous and excited welcome.

"Ah! 'tis the dear dog is pleased to see me. Down, Val, down! You'll tear me to bits! Dear Val! but your welcome is too warm altogether."

Into the circle of light thrown by the hanging lamp above the table came a girl--a remarkably upright, small, slim girl of nineteen--clad in a long light grey travelling coat, with a voluminous grey gauze veil thrown back from her hat. Her little face was delicately featured and pale. She was not particularly noticeable until she spoke: then the timbre of her voice was arresting, it was so full and sweet--not in the least degree loud, but singularly clear and musical, with the unmistakable lilt of a Southern Irish brogue.

Tony Bevan leapt to his feet and advanced to meet her, holding out both his hands.

"You, Lallie! now! Why, I didn't expect you for another fortnight. Your father's letter only----"

"Well, I'm here, Tony," she interrupted, "sure enough, and I'm ravenous. Can't I sit down with you and these gentlemen and have some dinner now--at once? I'm fairly clean, for I had ever such a wash at Birmingham."

The girl included the three prefects who stood around the table in her remarks, smiling radiantly upon the assembled company, and one of them hastily set his chair for her near the head of the table which was Tony's place.

As she sat down she flashed another entrancing smile in the direction of the prefect exclaiming:

"Bring another chair now and sit down by me, and don't on any account let me spoil your dinners. Just take it that I'm a few courses late, and you'll all be kind and keep me company. Have some more nuts now, do, and then I'll feel more at home."

With the best will in the world those three prefects sat down again, and each one hastily helped himself to nuts, in spite of the fact that their host, far from seconding the newcomer's invitation, turned right round in his chair to look at the clock.