Then Worthing turned to me, and his words cut me like a bitter wind. "So, Tommy!" he said. "Already!... These creatures lure us from our duty soon enough. It's to be expected. But already!... I can't even wish you joy." Now all this was an enigma to me, but the tone of his voice and the look of his eyes were worse than a whip. "Worthing!" I exclaimed, conscious that somehow I had roused his scorn as well as his anger. "What is it? Why will you quarrel with me like this? I want to be friends." "You'd better keep your Jenny," he threw at me; and was gone. We were left alone. Jenny said emphatically, "That boy hates me. He wants to take you from me. But I won't let you go." "Of course not," I said mazedly. We were soon back at our game; but for a time my heart was heavy. I couldn't understand Worthing's bitter rebuke. After all he was three years my senior, he had been to London; he had had some experience of the world and the world's literature beyond the romantic diet I had been fed on. I must have played with only half my heart, for Jenny frequently chided me, and at last ran off in a huff declaring I wanted to leave her and join my friend. She stressed the word contemptuously, and told me to go. I was troubled, for this was the first real quarrel we had had. Other tiffs had merely been incident to the antagonism of our games. I followed her, but she would have none of me, and locked herself in her room. I sat down moodily and wondered what to do. For a while I felt angry at her unreasonableness, and once rose half intending to obey her and return to school. But the knowledge that if I did so I should be saying good-bye to Sunset Towers for many a long day came as a check to my peevish anger. Moreover, I half expected to receive a message from my father; for the first signs of summer were on the trees, and summer without a spell at the _Dolphin_ was unthinkable. So I mustn't get myself imprisoned at Rancey Bridge. Now above all times freedom was essential. The thought that if my father did reappear and signal for me there would be a stormy parting from Jenny gave me a momentary pang. But I dismissed it as an unwelcome consideration. Presently I was aware of some one approaching, and looking up saw Abou standing above me. This was almost the first time I had seen him since that first eventful afternoon; and it was certainly the first time I had seen him so close at hand. Occasionally I caught a fleeting glimpse of him moving like a shadow about the house, but usually he was nowhere to be seen, and I thought of him cloistered in the secret room ministering to the strange malady of the Captain. He wasn't needed to attend our table at meals, for a woman came from the village each day to do the necessary cooking and cleaning. He stood quietly before me, waiting, it seemed, for me to speak. But as I hadn't sent for him and didn't know in the least what he wanted, I remained silent, looking at him.