“Geoffrey! you mustn’t! You mustn’t, I tell you!”
No wonder she was anxious, poor child; for it seems that Geoffrey, after
having first obtained a promise of secrecy, confided his plans to her
yesterday afternoon. She is the only person who knows where he is now,
and entreaties and arguments are equally of no avail. We simply cannot
get her to tell.
The first alarm reached us this morning, just as we had risen from the
breakfast table. There was a sharp ring at the door-bell; and Rose,
answering the summons, found Maria, one of Aunt Adelaide’s maids,
outside.
“Is Master Geoffrey here?” asked Maria, rather breathlessly. And, upon
receiving Rose’s denial, she cried out:
“Then Lord-a-mercy knows what’s become of him! For he ain’t been home
all the morning, not even to his breakfast, and missis and the boss,
too, are in a great taking!”
Mother and I, who were on our way upstairs, overheard the exclamation
and turned back.
“What is it, Maria?” asked mother, after having sent Rose down to the
kitchen again. “Master Geoffrey has not been here since yesterday. You
say he was not home to breakfast?”
“No, ma’am,” answered Maria; and proceeded to pour forth her tale. It
seems that Geoffrey has been in the habit of over-sleeping recently,
which indulgence greatly irritated Aunt Adelaide.
“Mrs. Graham thinks it’s only manners for the family to sit down to
meals together,” Maria explained. “So this morning when Master Geoffrey
did not come, she sent Jennie up to knock at his door, and Jennie, she
knocked, and knocked again, and got no answer. So after a bit she came
down, and said she could not make Master Geoffrey hear, and Mr. Graham
jumped up.
“‘I’ll wake him myself,’ he says. ‘We’ve had enough of this sort of
nonsense.’ And he went and called very angry-like at the foot of the
stairs; but still there was no reply;—and I was rather sorry for Master
Geoffrey when his pa snatched off one of his slippers and ran upstairs
and threw open the bedroom door.
“‘He’s going to catch it, sure enough, like any babby,’ I thought; but
he didn’t, because the room was empty. The bed had not even been slept
in.
“‘Hello!’ says Mr. Graham, in a disturbed sort of way. And he put on his
slipper and came downstairs again; and directly breakfast was over they
sent me here.”
“Can Ernie know anything of this?” asked mother, turning to me. “She is
Geoffrey’s usual confidante. Run upstairs and get her, Elizabeth. I
believe she has taken Robin his tray.”
All the colour died out of Ernie’s face when she saw me enter the
nursery; but it flooded back again in a crimson wave as she listened to
mother’s message. However, she settled Bobsie to his breakfast, and
quietly followed me downstairs.
“Have you any idea where Geoffrey is, Ernie?” asked mother, gravely.
Ernie’s long lashes swept her cheeks. “Isn’t he at home?” she returned,
in a tone that was intended to sound innocent.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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