The Girls of St. Olave's Part 4

She found Denys in the hall collecting cus.h.i.+ons and shawls, for though the April sun was unusually warm there was a sharp touch in the wind.

"I say, Denys!" she exclaimed. "I have borrowed your machine--I have bent my pedal somehow, and you won't want yours."

CHAPTER V.

A WILD-GOOSE CHASE.

Donkeys are proverbially obstinate animals, and Mrs. Henchman's this afternoon proved no exception to the rule. He had evidently made up his mind that the road to the Landslip was not a congenial one. In vain the boy who drove him cheered him onwards, in vain Denys tugged at his bridle, in vain Audrey walked in front holding out an inviting thistle. At length Mrs. Henchman got flurried and nervous.

"Boy!" she called, "what is your name?"

The boy turned a smiling round face, "Billy Burr, ma'am!"

"Billy Burr! if you can't make your donkey go, I shall get out."

"If you please, ma'am," answered Billy Burr serenely, "it's not my donkey. That's why he won't go, ma'am! It's d.i.c.kie Lowe's donkey, but he's got a cold and he had to save up for to-night, ma'am, to sing in the Stainer. Whoa--there--get on, you! That's better!"

The donkey broke into a trot, and Denys and Audrey and Billy were forced to do the same, but in a minute that was over and the donkey appeared to have recovered his right mind and walked on stolidly.

Billy and Denys walking at his bridle fell into a confidential chat.

"I told d.i.c.kie how it would be," Billy said apologetically, "this one won't go for n.o.body else and the other one was lame."

"Are you going to sing in Stainer's Crucifixion to-night at All Saints'?" asked Denys with interest. "I am going to hear it. Are you one of the boys of All Saints'? One of Miss Dolly Allan's boys?"

Billy nodded cheerily, "Do you know her?" he inquired. "When is she coming down again?"

But the donkey had come to a standstill, and the party were forced to do the same.

"It is perfectly ridiculous going on like this," exclaimed Audrey. "We are a laughing stock to the neighbourhood! Billy Burr, if that is your name, why don't you give the animal a good thras.h.i.+ng and _make_ him go?"

"'Twouldn't be no use," said Billy vexedly. "I'm real sorry, ma'am.

Would you like to try another road? It's just the road he's taken offence at."

"No, indeed! the only road I shall go is home again," cried Mrs.

Henchman. "It's too bad, though, to spoil all my afternoon like this.

Turn him round, boy, and let us get back as fast as possible. It's a wasted afternoon."

"He'll go all right _that_ way," said Billy.

"But what about Gertrude and Mr. Greyburne?" said Denys as the little cavalcade turned back. Oh, how she wished Gertrude had been more amenable and had not broken up the party.

"I am sure I should not trouble about _them_," said Audrey walking on, "I don't know why Gertrude did not stay with her hostess!"

"Yes!" said Mrs. Henchman, too worried and annoyed to remember what she had said to make it easy for Gertrude, "that is just what I thought. Now, what is to be done? I am not going home by myself with this donkey for anybody."

Denys was ready to cry with vexation, and yet as Gertrude and Cecil had been told to wait at the cottage till they came, they could not be left there indefinitely. She ignored the remarks on Gertrude with what grace she could, and tried to make the best of the situation.

"We can all go back together," she said soothingly, "and then I must go and find Gertrude and tell her how unfortunate we have been."

"You could cycle," suggested Audrey, relenting a little.

Denys shook her head, "Gertrude has my bicycle," she said; "something has happened to hers. Oh, I can easily walk."

"Mine has gone wrong too," said Audrey. "Look here, mother, surely I am capable of taking you home. I've looked after you all these years without help! If Denys has got to walk she had far better go straight on."

"Whatever you like," said Mrs. Henchman wearily. "I shall be truly thankful to be safe back in my own bedroom. I shall have a heart attack, I know! Go on, boy, at once!"

Denys stood and watched them out of sight, the donkey going quite amiably now, and then she turned to her own path. How tiresome it was!

and oh, how disagreeable to have got into a bother with those she so much wished to please, through no fault of her own.

But Charlie was coming down that evening, and when he came everything would be all right!

She trudged on cheerily after that, trying to plan out the time between now and half-past seven, when she was to meet Charlie at the station, and they were to go together to hear Stainer's Crucifixion sung at All Saints'.

It was wonderfully pretty in the Landslip, though the trees were only just showing a green tinge in the sunlight, but she hurried on as fast as she could, and reached the cottage at last.

It was a pretty little ivy-clad cottage, with a bench outside and a table set invitingly for visitors, but the bench was unoccupied, and she looked about in vain for any sign of Gertrude or Cecil.

Upon inquiry she found that she was the first visitor that afternoon.

People had hardly come down yet, the woman explained; they generally came into Whitecliff this evening, Thursday, and this was a favourite Good Friday walk.

Denys sat down to wait and had not been seated long, before the little voice that was so like Jerry's, fell upon her ear.

"Hullo!" said little Harry, peeping round the door at her.

"How did you come here?" asked Denys, but before she could get a reply, a sound of terrible coughing came from within, and a voice said, "Harry! Harry! you've left the door open!"

Harry darted back, but returned very quickly. He seemed to like talking to Denys, but while she talked, Denys was watching for Gertrude and listening to that rending cough. Harry seemed to listen to it too. "That's mother," he said, "aren't you coming to see her?"

"Oh, no!" said Denys shrinkingly, "she would not like it."

Harry was off with his little petticoats flying, and was back again like a flash.

"She wants you," he said triumphantly, "she's been a-listening to your voice!"

He seized her hand, and led her into a little room behind the parlour, and on a low bed by the open window Denys saw a young woman with a pretty face, so like Harry's as to proclaim her his mother at once.

She looked up at Denys with a smile.

"Harry told me about you this morning," she said. "Won't you sit down, Miss? It is very kind of you to come in."

Denys sat down. The window commanded a view of the garden gate, so she was in no danger of missing Gertrude. She wondered whatever had become of her.

She found Mrs. Lyon very easy to talk to--and while Denys and his mother chatted, Harry climbed into the bed and fell fast asleep.