Fergus, a little afraid of being actually
suffocated, began to struggle, setting off Wilfred, and the adventure
was having a conclusion, which would have accounted for the authentic
existence of Perkin Warbeck, when--oh horror! there was a peal at the
door-bell, and before there was a moment for the general scurry,
Herbert the button-boy popped out of the pantry passage and admitted
Mr. Leadbitter, to whom, as a late sixth standard boy, he had a special
allegiance, and, having spied him coming, hurried to let him in out of
the rain instantly.
At least, such was the charitable interpretation. Harry strongly
suspected that the imp had been a concealed spectator all the time, and
had particularly relished the mischief of the discomfiture, which,
after all, was much greater on the part of the Vicar than any one else,
as he was a rather stiff, old-fashioned gentleman. Lady Merrifield
only laughed, said she had been beguiled into wet day sports with the
children, begged him to excuse her for a moment or two, and tripped
away, followed by Gillian to help her, quickly reappearing in her lace
cap as the graceful matron, even before Mr. Leadbitter had quite done
blushing and quoting to Harry 'desipere in loco,' as he was assisted
off with his dripping, shiny waterproof.
After all no harm would have been done if--Harry and Gillian being both
off guard--Valetta had not exclaimed most unreasonably in her
disappointment--
'I knew the fun would be spoilt the instant Dolores came in for it.
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