Everybody — even the Welchers, who at the last moment had given up any attempt to form a crew, and “scratched”—found it hard to think or talk of any other subject, and beyond the school bounds, in Shellport itself, a rumour of the coming race had got wind and attracted many outsiders to the river banks.
But it was not the prospect of the coming race which this Saturday afternoon was agitating the mind of Master Henry Brown.
Brown was a Limpet, belonging to the schoolhouse, who occupied the distinguished position of being the only day-boarder in Willoughby. His parents lived in Shellport, and thus had the benefit of the constant society of their dear Harry; while the school, on the other hand, was deprived of that advantage for a portion of every day in the term.
It was probably to make up for this deprivation that Mr and Mrs Brown made it a practice of giving an evening party once a term, to which the doctor and his ladies were always invited, and also any two of dear Harry’s friends he liked to name.
In this way the fond parents not only felt they were doing a polite and neighbourly act to their son’s schoolmaster and schoolfellows, but that they were also the means of bringing together teacher and pupil in an easy unconstrained manner which would hardly be possible within the walls of the school itself.
It was the prospect of one of these delightful entertainments that was exhilarating Brown this Saturday afternoon.
And it must be confessed the excitement was due to very opposite emotions in the breast of the day-boarder. The doctor and his ladies were coming! On the last two occasions they had been unfortunately prevented, which had been a great blow to Brown’s “pa and ma” but a relief to Brown himself. And now the prospect of meeting these awful dignitaries face to face in his own house put him in a small panic. But on the other hand, he knew there would be jellies, and savoury pie, and strawberries, and tipsy-cake, at home that night. He had seen them arrive from the confectioner’s that morning, and, Limpet as he was, Brown smiled inwardly as he meditated thereon. This was a second ground for excitement. And a third, equal to either of the other two, was that Parson and Telson were invited and were coming!
He had tried one or two other fellows first. He had sounded Coates on the subject, but he unfortunately was engaged. He had pressed Wyndham to come, but Wyndham was busy that evening with the library. He had appealed to one or two other schoolhouse Limpets, but all, on hearing that the doctor and Co. were to be present, respectfully declined.
Finally Brown dropped upon Telson, and condescendingly proposed to him to be present as one of his two friends.
Telson thought the matter over and fancied it promised well. He liked the sound of the jellies and the tipsy-cake, and just at present he knew of no special reason for “funking” the doctor. As for the doctor’s ladies, Telson had never seen them, so they did not weigh particularly with him.
“Who else is going?” he asked.
“Oh, I don’t know yet,” said Brown, rather grandly. “I’ve one or two fellows in my mind.”
“Why don’t you ask young Parson?” suggested Telson, innocently.
“Parson? he’s not a schoolhouse kid.”
“I know he’s not, but he and I are very chummy, you know. I wouldn’t mind coming if he went.”
“I’ll see,” said Brown, mightily, but secretly relieved to know of some one likely to come as his second “friend.”
“All right,” said Telson. “I’ve not promised, mind, if he can’t come.”
“Oh, yes, you have!” replied Brown, severely, as he left the room.
In due time he found Parson and broached the subject to him.
Parson viewed the matter in very much the same light as Telson had. He liked the “tuck-in” better than the company.
It never occurred to him it was odd that Brown should come all the way from the schoolhouse to invite him, a Parrett’s junior, to his feast; nor did it occur to him either that the invitation put him under any obligation to his would-be host.
“I tell you what I’ll do,” said he, in a business-like manner, much as if Brown had asked him to clean out his study for him, “if you ask Telson to come too, I’m game.”
Brown half doubted whether these two allies had not been consulting together on the subject, so startling was the similarity of their conditions.
“Oh! Telson’s coming,” he said, in as offhand a way as he could.
“He is! Then I’m on, old man; rather!” exclaimed the delighted Parson.
“All right! Six-thirty, mind, and chokers!” said Brown, not a little relieved to have scraped up two friends for the festive occasion. At the appointed time — or rather before the appointed time, for they arrived at twenty minutes past six — our two heroes, arrayed in their Sunday jackets and white ties, presented themselves at the house of their host. They had “put it on” considerably in order to get ahead of the doctor’s party; for they considered that — as Parson expressed it—“it would be a jolly lot less blushy work” to be there before the head master arrived. There was no doubt about their success in this little manoeuvre, for when the servant opened the door the hall was full of rout seats, and a man, uncommonly like the greengrocer, in a dress coat, was busily unpacking plates out of a small hamper.
Into this scene of confusion Parson and Telson were ushered, and here they were left standing for about five minutes, interested spectators, till the hall was cleared and the domestic had leisure to go and tell Master Harry of their arrival.
Master Harry was dressing, and sent down word they had better go into the shoe-room till he came down. Which they did, and amused themselves during the interval with trying on Mr Brown’s Wellingtons, and tying together the laces of all Harry’s boots they could discover.
In due time Harry appeared in grand array. “How jolly early you are!” was his hospitable greeting. “You said six-thirty, didn’t you?” said Telson. “Yes; it’s only just that now. Nobody will be here for a quarter of an hour yet. You had better come in and see ma.”
The two guests obeyed cheerfully. Ma was in the drawing-room, busily adjusting the sashes of the three juvenile Misses Brown, with her mouth full of pins. So all she could do was to smile pleasantly at her two visitors and nod her head as they each came up and held out their hands to be shaken.
“Better sit down,” suggested Brown.
Parson and Telson thereupon retreated to the sofa, on the edge of which they sat for another five or ten minutes, looking about them complacently, and not attempting to break the silence of the scene.
The silence, however, was soon broken by a loud double knock at the hall door, which was the signal for Mr Brown, senior, to bolt into the room in a guilty way with one cuff not quite buttoned, and stand on the hearthrug with as free-and-easy an air as if he had been waiting there a quarter of an hour at least. Knock followed knock in quick succession, and after the usual amount of fluttering in the hall, the greengrocer flung open the drawing-room door and ushered in Dr and Mrs Patrick, Miss Stringer, and half a dozen other arrivals.
Our two heroes, sitting side by side, unnoticed on the edge of the sofa, had full opportunity to take stock of the various guests, most of whom were strangers to them.
As every one appeared to be about the doctor’s age, things promised slowly for Parson and Telson, whose interest in Brown’s party decidedly languished when finally they found themselves swept off their perch and helplessly wedged into a corner by an impenetrable phalanx of skirts.
But this was nothing compared with a discovery they made at the same time that they had missed their tea! There was a merry rattle of cups and spoons in a room far off, through the half-open door of which they could catch glimpses of persons drinking tea, and of Brown handing round biscuits and cake. The sight of this was too much to be borne. It was at least worth an effort to retrieve their fatal mistake.