Edward looked at me with scornful pity. “Girls never have any money,” he briefly explained. “But she did his exercises, and got him out of rows, and told stories for him when he needed it--and much better ones than he could have made up for himself. Girls are useful in some ways. So he was living in clover, when unfortunately they went and quarrelled about something.” “Don’t see what that’s got to do with it,” I said. “Nor don’t I,” rejoined Edward. “But anyhow the notes and things stopped, and so did the shillings. Bobby was fairly cornered, for he had bought two ferrets on tick, and promised to pay a shilling a week, thinking the shillings were going on for ever, the silly young ass. So when the week was up, and he was being dunned for the shilling, he went off to the fellow and said: ‘Your broken-hearted Bella implores you to meet her at sundown. By the hollow oak as of old, be it only for a moment. Do not fail!’ He got all that out of some rotten book, of course. The fellow looked puzzled and said: “‘What hollow oak? I don’t know any hollow oak.’ “‘Perhaps it was the Royal Oak?’ said Bobby promptly, ’cos he saw he had made a slip, through trusting too much to the rotten book; but this didn’t seem to make the fellow any happier.” “Should think not,” I said, “the Royal Oak’s an awful low sort of pub.” “I know,” said Edward. “Well, at last the fellow said, ‘I think I know what she means: the hollow tree in your father’s paddock. It happens to be an elm, but she wouldn’t know the difference. All right: say I’ll be there.’ Bobby hung about a bit, for he hadn’t got his money. ‘She was crying awfully,’ he said. Then he got his shilling.” “And wasn’t the fellow riled,” I inquired, “when he got to the place and found nothing?” “He found Bobby,” said Edward indignantly. “Young Ferris was a gentleman, every inch of him. He brought the fellow another message from Bella: ‘I dare not leave the house. My cruel parents immure me closely. If you only knew what I suffer. Your broken-hearted Bella.’ Out of the same rotten book. This made the fellow a little suspicious, ’cos it was the old Ferrises who had been keen about the thing all through. The fellow, you see, had tin.” “But what’s that got to--” I began again. “O I dunno,” said Edward impatiently. “I’m telling you just what Bobby told me. He got suspicious, anyhow, but he couldn’t exactly call Bella’s brother a liar, so Bobby escaped for the time. But when he was in a hole next week, over a stiff French exercise, and tried the same sort of game on his sister, she was too sharp for him, and he got caught out. Somehow women seem more mistrustful than men. They’re so beastly suspicious by nature, you know.” “I know,” said I. “But did the two--the fellow and the sister--make it up afterwards?”