Godfrey Marten, Undergraduate Part 27

"What is it?" he asked, when he discovered that I did not want to go to some impossible place because my teeth ached, or my great-aunt wanted me.

"You sent for me," I said.

"No," and he shook his head until a lock of hair fell over his forehead.

"At one o'clock."

"I didn't send for you."

"I have the notice in my pocket," and I took it out and looked at it.

Then I saw that some one had been scratching at the top of the card, but they had done it very neatly.

"Some one has been having a joke with you," he said, and he smiled as if he thought it a better joke than I did.

"They will be watching for me to come out," I said, and I took my courage in my two hands.

"I suppose they will," he answered, "but I don't want to know their names."

"I didn't mean that," I replied.

"What did you mean?" he asked, and I thought he was behaving splendidly.

"I wish you would ask me to lunch if you aren't engaged," I said, "and then they will have to wait for longer than they bargained."

"Of course," he answered, "they certainly deserve to wait."

I enjoyed that meal very much, the Subby only wanted knowing a little and then he became quite a good sort, and I think he was amused at a fresher calmly asking himself to luncheon with him, but it ought to have shown that I had a certain amount of confidence in him, for even I could not have asked myself to a meal with Mr. Edwardes. I doubt, however, if he ever thought of it in that light, for he had been Subby for five rather troubled years, and had so much to do with dealing with men who did things they ought not to have done, that he could have had no time to wonder why they did them.

We began by condemning practical jokes, which was very tactful of him; he said that he knew only one good practical joke, and that was played upon himself, but he would not tell me what it was though I promised that I would never try it on anybody. Then we talked about all sorts of things, until I had been with him nearly an hour, and the conversation was inclined to droop.

"Do you sleep very badly?" I asked, because I had heard several dodges for getting rid of insomnia, and I should like to have done something for him.

He blinked at me for an instant, and I think he was wondering what I was driving at, for I suppose it would not do for a Subby to sleep too soundly. "I am thankful to say I have never been troubled with sleeplessness," he said, and he looked rather drowsy at that moment.

"Some men do tell the most awful lies," I meant to say to myself, but somehow or other I said it much louder than I intended.

But he took no notice, and after thanking him very much I left him, feeling that I had another ally; but it is never prudent to reckon upon a man who has to look after the conduct of the college, he gets worried and then does not understand things quite right.

Lambert's head was poking out of Learoyd's window as I went back through the front quad, and thinking that I might as well get this thing finished off at once, I ran up-stairs and found Dennison and him in possession of Learoyd's rooms.

"Much of a row?" Dennison said, with a kind of sickly sarcastic smile which meant that he had scored off me pretty badly.

"Row?" I asked.

"Was the Subby furious?"

"I have been lunching with him," I answered; "I hope your lunch was not spoilt by waiting for me to come out."

They did not know what to say to this, so Dennison went on smiling and Lambert stroked his upper lip with one finger.

"You were nicely scored off," Dennison said at last.

"I had a jolly good lunch," I replied.

"Dennison doesn't make a bad Subby, and I imitate his writing pretty well," Lambert said.

"The Subby himself must decide that, when he finds out who was a.s.s enough to buy a beard like his."

This reduced them to silence again, until Lambert said that he did not see how anybody could find out.

"The Subby is much more wide-awake than you think. I wouldn't care to be in Dennison's place, he has just done the one thing which dons can't stand. However, the Subby is a rare good sort, and I shouldn't wonder if he let the thing drop, especially as it is the end of term," I said.

"You looked fairly sick this morning," Dennison remarked, but he was more vicious and less smiling than he had been at the beginning.

"You took me in all right," I acknowledged, "and I hope you won't hear any more about it."

"What did you tell the Subby?" he asked.

"Not much," and if he was fool enough to think that there was any chance of the Subby trying to find out anything, I thought I had better leave him to his doubts, so I went round to my rooms, and having got a straw-hat, I started off to see Fred; and fortunately I found him at Oriel trying to make his cricket-bag hold more things than it was meant to hold. He did not look particularly pleased to see me, but I have never yet met a man who can pack and be in a good temper at the same time.

"Where are you off to?" I asked, for there were still some days before the end of the term.

"I am going to Brighton to-night with Henderson."

"How did you manage to get leave?"

"We have both been seedy, and Rushden wanted us to go before we play Surrey again. In my last three innings I've made seven runs, and I should think Rushden begins to wish he had never given me my blue. I don't feel as if I should ever make another run."

"Your dons must be good sorts," I said.

"They're all right," he answered, and he sat down in a chair by the window and looked so unlike himself that I knelt down on the floor and took everything out of the bag. Then I packed my best, which must have been worse than anybody else's except Fred's, and when I had finished, though the bag still bulged and was not a thing to be proud of, it did not bulge so very badly; at any rate Fred said it would do, but when I looked at him again I forgot entirely that I had intended to be angry with him.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

"Nothing to speak of. I've had a cold and a headache, and just rotten little things like that. Brighton will cure me," but he didn't speak as if he cared whether it did or not.

"You've got to come to us directly that reading party is over or I won't have this cheque, and if I don't take the cheque I shall be in an awful hole," I said, for I can't lead up to things.

"I would very much rather not come," he answered.

"Why?"

"Oh, I don't know," he said, and then he got up and gave the bag a kick which, landing on a bat, hurt his toe. "You're the best fellow in the world, G.o.dfrey, but you don't understand."

"There is something odd the matter with you, or you wouldn't say that.

We don't say things like that to each other."

"Won't you come down to Cornwall?"