Incautiously Mary did as she was bid. “Bidevoor kiss.” “Niver amiss,” said Stalky, taking it without injury. “Yeou--yeou--yeou--” Mary began, bubbling with mirth. “They’m better to Northam--more rich, laike an’ us gets them give back again,” he said, while McTurk solemnly waltzed Mother Yeo out of breath, and Beetle told Mary the sad news, as they sat down to clotted cream, jam, and hot bread. “Yiss. Yeou’ll niver zee us no more, Mary. We’re goin’ to be passons an’ missioners.” “Steady the Buffs!” said McTurk, looking through the blind. “Tulke _has_ followed us. He’s comin’ up the street now.” “They’ve niver put us out o’ bounds,” said Mother Yeo. “Bide yeou still, my little dearrs.” She rolled into the inner room to make the score. “Mary,” said Stalky, suddenly, with tragic intensity. “Do ’ee lov’ me, Mary?” “Iss--fai! Talled ’ee zo since yeou was zo high!” the damsel replied. “Zee ’un comin’ up street, then?” Stalky pointed to the unconscious Tulke. “He’ve niver been kissed by no sort or manner o’ maid in hees borned laife, Mary. Oh, ’tees shaamful!” “Whutt’s to do with me? ’Twill come to ’un in the way o’ nature, I rackon.” She nodded her head sagaciously. “You niver want me to kiss un--sure-_ly_?” “Give ’ee half-a-crown if ’ee will,” said Stalky, exhibiting the coin. Half-a-crown was much to Mary Yeo, and a jest was more; but-- “Yeu’m afraid,” said McTurk, at the psychological moment. “Aie!” Beetle echoed, knowing her weak point. “There’s not a maid to Northam ’ud think twice. An’ yeou such a fine maid, tu!” McTurk planted one foot firmly against the inner door lest Mother Yeo should return inopportunely, for Mary’s face was set. It was then that Tulke found his way blocked by a tall daughter of Devon--that county of easy kisses, the pleasantest under the sun. He dodged aside politely. She reflected a moment, and laid a vast hand upon his shoulder. “Where be ’ee gwaine tu, my dearr?” said she. Over the handkerchief he had crammed into his mouth Stalky could see the boy turn scarlet. “Gie I a kiss! Don’t they larn ’ee manners to College?” Tulke gasped and wheeled. Solemnly and conscientiously Mary kissed him twice, and the luckless prefect fled. She stepped into the shop, her eyes full of simple wonder. “Kissed ’un?” said Stalky, handing over the money. “Iss, fai! But, oh, my little body, he’m no Colleger. ’Zeemed tu-minded to cry, like.” “Well, we won’t. Yell couldn’t make us cry that way,” said McTurk. “Try.” Whereupon Mary cuffed them all round. As they went out with tingling ears, said Stalky generally, “Don’t think there’ll be much of a prefects’ meeting.” “Won’t there, just!” said Beetle. “Look here. If he kissed her--which is our tack--he is a cynically immoral hog, and his conduct is blatant indecency. _Confer orationes Regis furiosissimi_, when he collared me readin’ ‘Don Juan.’” “’Course he kissed her,” said McTurk. “In the middle of the street. With his house-cap on!”