England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; English fiction -- 19th century
O'Gree darted to the door, past Mrs. Tootle, and was lost to sight.
There was indeed a desperate uproar in the higher regions of the house.
In a moment the noise increased considerably. O'Gree had rushed up
without a light, and was battling desperately in the darkness with a
score of pillow-fighters, roaring out threats the while at the top of
his voice. Mrs. Tootle retired from the masters' room with much
affectation of dignity, leaving the door open behind her.
Waymark slammed it to, and turned with a laugh to the poor Swiss.
"In low spirits to-night, I'm afraid, Mr. Egger?"
Egger let his chair tilt forward, rose slowly, drew a yellow
handkerchief from his mouth and wiped his eyes with it, then exclaimed,
in the most pitiful voice--
"Mr. Waymark, I have made my possible!--I can no more!"
It was his regular phrase on these occasions; Waymark had always much
ado to refrain from laughter when he heard it repeated, but he did his
best to be seriously sympathetic, and to attempt consolation in such
German as was at his command. Egger's despondency only increased, and
he wept afresh to hear accents which were intelligible to him. Mr.
O'Gree re-entered the room, and the Swiss retired to his corner.
Philip was hot with excitement and bodily exertion; he came in mopping
his forehead, and, without turning to Waymark, stood with eyes fixed on
the chalk caricatures. Very gradually he turned round. Waymark was
watching him, on his face an expression of subdued mirth. Their looks
met, and both exploded in laughter.
"Bedad, my boy," exclaimed O'Gree, "I'm devilish sorry! I wouldn't have
had it happen for a quarter's salary,--though I sadly need a new pair
of breeches. She's a supercilious cat-o-mountain, and she loses no
opportunity of insulting me, but after all she's a woman."
"By-the-by, Waymark," he added in a moment, "what a stunner the new
governess is! You're a lucky dog, to sit in the same room with her.
What's her name, I say?"
"Miss Enderby. You've seen her, have you?"
"I caught a glimpse of her as she came downstairs; it was quite enough;
she floored me. She's never been out of my thoughts for a minute since
I saw her. 'I love her, I love her, and who shall dare, to chide me for
loving that teacher fair!'"
"Well, yes," said Waymark, "she has a tolerable face; seems to me a
long way too good to be teaching those unlicked cubs. The dragon wasn't
too civil to her, though it was the first day."
"Not civil to her? If I were present, and heard that woman breathe the
slightest incivility, I'd--"
He broke off in the midst of his vehemence with a startled look towards
the door.
"Mr. Egger," he exclaimed, "a song; I beg, a song. Come, I'll lead off.
'Miss Enderby hath a beaming eye'--
Bah! I'm not in voice to-night."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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