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Copplestone suddenly laughed and touched Sir Cresswell's arm. He pointed to the edge of the moorland just outside the school-yard. Spurge was disappearing over that edge, and in a moment had vanished.
The man was an ass to ask me, and I told him so." "He doubtless reasoned that a man who could accompany the wife of a brother officer to a place of such miscellaneous character as Cresswell's would not be above carrying secretly to her that which he dare not send openly." "He had no right to judge by it, Davies! Lots of ladies go there, and Mrs. Stone matronized us."
The meeting was in the big room of Zora's house, and Aunt Rachel came early with her cheery voice and smile which faded so quickly to lines of sorrow and despair, and then twinkled back again. After her hobbled old Sykes. Fully a half-hour later Rob hurried in. "Johnson," he informed the others, "has sneaked over to Cresswell's to tell of this meeting. We ought to beat that nigger up."
She saw Alwyn swing along the road to the school dining-room where he had charge of the students at the noonday meal. Alwyn wanted Mrs. Cresswell's judgment and advice. He was growing doubtful of his own estimate of women. Evidently something about his standards was wrong; consequently he made opportunities to talk with Mrs.
Cresswell groped for her proper cue, but the brown lady merely offered a chair and sat down silently. Mrs. Cresswell's perplexity increased. She had been planning to descend graciously but authoritatively upon some shrinking girl, but this woman not only seemed to assume equality but actually looked it. From a rapid survey, Mrs.
Can't you shift your offices to say New York?" Beale shook his head. "I can and I can't," he said. "If you will forgive my saying so, the matter of the Green Rust is of infinitely greater importance than Miss Cresswell's safety." James Kitson frowned. "I don't like to hear you say that, Beale." "I don't like hearing myself say it," confessed the other, "but let me put it this way.
And they nestled together amid the big black roots of the oak, laughing and talking while they ate. "What's over there?" he asked pointing northward. "Cresswell's big house." "And yonder to the west?" "The school." He started joyfully. "The school! What school?" "Old Miss' School." "Miss Smith's school?" "Yes." The tone was disdainful. "Why, that's where I'm going.
How dare he say they were responsible for Mrs. Davies's flirtation? How dare he insinuate that they had led her to the forbidden shades of Cresswell's? There was a tempest in a teapot among Mrs. Stone's friends and associates over Mrs. Darling's account of his rebuke to her, for Mrs. Darling had deftly managed to include Mrs. Stone and Mrs.
Miss Taylor wondered a little at the bounty of Southern hospitality; but she was hungry, and she ate heartily, then leaned back dreamily and listened to Mr. Cresswell's smooth Southern r's, adding a word here and there that kept the conversation going and brought a grave smile to his pale lips. At last with a sigh she arose to her feet. "I must go! What shall I tell Miss Smith!
Vanderpool was curious as to the cause of Cresswell's anger. It was so genuine that it needed explanation. "Are kisses illegal here?" she asked before the horses started, turning the battery of her eyes full upon him. But Cresswell had himself well in hand. "No," he said. "But the girl is notorious." On the lovers the words fell like a blow.
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