As I came into the play-grounds this morning, I saw a dashing young fellow, with a tanned face and a blonde moustache, who was walking up and down the green, arm-in-arm with Champion Major, and followed by a little crowd of boys.
They were talking of old times evidently. "What had become of Irvine and Smith?"—"Where was Bill Harris and Jones, not Squinny Jones, but Cocky Jones?"—and so forth1. The gentleman was no stranger; he was an old pupil evidently, come to see if any of his old comrades remained, and to revisit the cari luogi of his youth.
Champion was evidently proud of his arm-fellow. He espied3 his brother, young Champion, and introduced him. "Come here, Sir," he called. "The young 'un wasn't here in your time, Davison."
"Pat, Sir," said he, "this is Captain Davison, one of Birch's boys. Ask him who was among the first in the lines at Sobraon?"
Pat's face kindled4 up as he looked Davison full in the face, and held out his hand. Old Champion and Davison both blushed. The infantry5 set up a "Hurray! hurray! hurray!" Champion leading, and waving his wide-awake. I protest that the scene did one good to witness. Here was the hero and cock of the school come back to see his old haunts and cronies. He had always remembered them. Since he had seen them last, he had faced death and achieved honour. But for my dignity I would have shied up my hat too.
With a resolute6 step, and his arm still linked in Champion's, Captain Davison now advanced, followed by a wake of little boys, to that corner of the green where Mrs. Buggies has her tart-stand.
"Hullo, Mother Buggies! don't you remember me?" he said, and shook her by the hand.
"Lor, if it ain't Davison Major!" she said. "Well, Davison Major, you owe me fourpence for two sausage-rolls from when you went away."
Davison laughed, and all the little crew of boys set up a similar chorus.
"I buy the whole shop," he said. "Now, young 'uns—eat away!"
Then there was such a "Hurray! hurray!" as surpassed the former cheer in loudness. Everybody engaged in it except Piggy Duff, who made an instant dash at the three-cornered puffs7, but was stopped by Champion, who said there should be a fair distribution. And so there was, and no one lacked, neither of raspberry open-tarts8, nor of mellifluous9 bull's-eyes, nor of polonies, beautiful to the sight and taste.
The hurraying brought out the Doctor himself, who put his hand up to his spectacles and started when he saw the old pupil. Each blushed when he recognised the other; for seven years ago they had parted not good friends.
"What—Davison?" the Doctor said, with a tremulous voice. "God bless you, my dear fellow!"—and they shook hands. "A half-holiday, of course, boys," he added, and there was another hurray: there was to be no end to the cheering that day.
"How's—how's the family, Sir?" Captain Davison asked.
"Come in and see. Flora's grown quite a lady. Dine with us, of course. Champion Major, come to dinner at five. Mr. Titmarsh, the pleasure of your company?" The Doctor swung open the garden-gate: the old master and pupil entered the house reconciled.
I thought I would just peep into Miss Raby's room, and tell her of this event. She was working away at her linen10 there, as usual, quiet and cheerful.
"You should put up," I said with a smile; "the Doctor has given us a half-holiday."
"I never have holidays," Miss Raby replied.
Then I told her of the scene I had just witnessed, of the arrival of the old pupil, the purchase of the tarts, the proclamation of the holiday, and the shouts of the boys of "Hurray, Davison."
"Who is it?" cried out Miss Raby, starting and turning as white as a sheet.
I told her it was Captain Davison from India, and described the appearance and behaviour of the Captain. When I had finished speaking, she asked me to go and get her a glass of water; she felt unwell. But she was gone when I came back with the water.
I know all now. After sitting for a quarter of an hour with the Doctor, who attributed his guest's uneasiness no doubt to his desire to see Miss Laura Birch, Davison started up and said he wanted to see Miss Raby. "You remember, Sir, how kind she was to my little brother," he said. Whereupon the Doctor, with a look of surprise that anybody should want to see Miss Raby, said she was in the little school-room, whither the Captain went, knowing the way from old times.
A few minutes afterwards, Miss B. and Miss Z. returned from a drive with Plantagenet Gaunt in their one-horse fly, and being informed of Davison's arrival, and that he was closeted with Miss Raby in the little school-room, of course made for that apartment at once. I was coming into it from the other door. I wanted to know whether she had drunk the water.
This is what both parties saw. The two were in this very attitude. "Well, upon my word!" cries out Miss Zoe, But Davison did not let go his hold; and Miss Raby's head only sank down on his hand.
"You must get another governess, Sir, for the little boys," Frank Davison said to the Doctor. "Anny Raby has promised to come with me."
You may suppose I shut to the door on my side. And when I returned to the little school-room, it was blank and empty. Everybody was gone. I could hear the boys shouting at play in the green, outside. The glass of water was on the table where I had placed it. I took it and drank it myself, to the health of Anny Raby and her husband. It was rather a choker.
But of course I wasn't going to stop on at Birch's. When his young friends re-assemble on the 1st of February next, they will have two new masters. Prince resigned too, and is............