"S-h-s-h!"

"Aren't you well?"

"Yes, I'm all right."

"What is it, then?"

As a grunt was the only answer, Loveday got up and drew aside the curtains. Her room-mate was ready dressed, and was in process of combing her light-brown locks and fixing in a slide.

"What the d.i.c.kens are you up to, child?" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Loveday in amazement.

Diana turned quickly, pulled Loveday down on to the bed, flung an arm round her, and laid a fluffy head on her shoulder.

"Oh, _do_ be a sport!" she implored.

"But what do you want to do?"

"Look here--it's like this! I'm such a duffer at explaining, or I'd have told you last night. My cousin, Lenox Clifford, has come over to England with the American contingent. He has just thirty-six hours' leave, and he rushed over to Petteridge to see the Burritts. Lenox and I were brought up together; I've stayed whole months with them when Uncle Carr had a ranch in New Mexico. It was Lenox who taught me to ride, and to fish, and to row, and to skate. There's no one in the world so clever as Lenox! It's his birthday to-day. It was for him I wanted to get those cigarettes--I thought he'd like them in camp. I couldn't think of anything else to send him that he could pack among his kit. Well, he's going off this week to the front, and, as likely as not, he'll be killed right away, and I'll never see him in this world again. It makes me crazy to think of it. He's only ten miles away, and I mayn't even say good-bye to him. Lenox, who's called me his 'little indispensable' ever since I was four! If he was killed, and I hadn't had one last word with him, I'd break my heart. Yes, I would! You English girls are so cold--you laugh at me because I feel red-hot about things."

"We're not cold really. I didn't understand," said Loveday. "You never told me all this about your cousin. Does Miss Todd know he's just off for the front?"

"Cousin Coralie said so in her letter. That's what made me so furious. I wouldn't have asked to go to Petteridge just for the sake of a holiday; but when it's a case of seeing Lenox, perhaps for the last time, I'm desperate. Rules are cruel things!"

"I do think Miss Todd might have made a special exception," said Loveday, hugging the agitated little figure that clung to her. "I'm sure Mrs. Gifford would have let you go. It's because Miss Todd is new, and also because, when once she's said a thing, she sticks to it. You were kept to 'bounds'."

"I know. But, Loveday, I'm going to break them this morning. I must say good-bye to Lenox whatever happens. I'm going to cycle over to Petteridge--now don't talk, for I've planned it all out. I can climb down the ivy, and I left Wendy's bicycle outside last night on purpose.

I shall be back by half-past seven."

The audacity of the proposal nearly took Loveday's breath away.

"But--but----" she remonstrated.

"No buts," said Diana, getting up and putting on her tam-o'-shanter.

"But, you silly child, you'll never do it in the time, and they won't be up when you get to Petteridge."

"Won't they? I rather guess they will! I told Cousin Cora I was coming to breakfast at six o'clock, and they must send me back in the car, bicycle and all."

"Did you put that in the letter you sent by the chauffeur?"

"Yes. Miss Todd didn't ask to read it. I reckon they'll have a nice little meal waiting. If I can manage to slip in here before the gong sounds for prayers, n.o.body need know a word about it except you, Loveday, and I trust you not to tell."

"It's frightfully against my conscience," faltered Loveday doubtfully.

"Oh! Suppose you had a brother or a cousin of your own who was going out to the front, wouldn't you want to say just one word of good-bye?

Especially when you hadn't seen him for a year! It isn't as if I were doing anything that Father and Mother would be angry about. And Cousin Cora will send me back in the car."

"It really is red-tape of Miss Todd," murmured Loveday yieldingly.

"Then you'll promise? Oh, good! What a sport you are! Help me on with my coat. No, I don't need a scarf--it's quite warm. I must take my watch, though."

The girls drew aside the curtains and looked out of the window. It was only about half-past four; the stars were shining, and there was a thin, horned moon hanging in the east, its radiant rim turned towards the spot where the day would break. No hint of dawn was yet in the air, though curlews were calling from the meadows by the lake. Bushes and garden paths were plainly distinguished in the starlight.

"It'll be light soon," said Diana, "and, at any rate, I can see quite well enough to ride. I shall just enjoy spinning along."

"Be careful going down hills," urged Loveday. "By the by, you're on the early practising-list this morning--had you forgotten?"

"Oh, kafoozalum! So I am! Suppose Bunty comes to see why the piano's silent? Well, I can't help it! I'm going! Do the best you can for me, won't you?"

The close ivy which grew up the side of the house had stems as thick as tent-posts. Diana let herself down over the sill, found a footing, and descended hand over hand with the agility of a middy. Wendy's bicycle was leaning against the wall at the bottom. She took it, and waved good-bye to Loveday, then walked along the side-path that led to the gate. A minute later she was free-wheeling down the hill that led through the village in the direction of Petteridge Court. Loveday, shaking her head, went back to bed.

"I'm thankful I'm not a prefect, or I should have felt bound to stop her," she reflected. "If I'd had a brother or a cousin whom I hadn't seen for a year, and who was just off to the front, I declare I'd have done it myself. I don't blame her! But there'll be a row if Bunty doesn't hear her scales going."

Exactly at a quarter to eight o'clock a Daimler car whisked through the village, and stopped by the gate of Pendlemere Abbey. A small figure hopped from it, and the chauffeur handed out a bicycle, then drove away at full speed. Girl and bicycle crept through the laurels to the side door, whence the former fled upstairs like a whirlwind. From the intermediates' room came the strains of the Beethoven sonata with which Loveday was at present wrestling. Diana, wrenching off coat and hat in her bedroom, paused to listen.

"Bless her!" she muttered. "She's actually gone and taken my place! What an absolute trump she is!"

It was not until morning school was over that the confederates had the slightest chance to compare notes.

"Well, did you see him?" asked Loveday, when at last they met in their bedroom to brush their hair for dinner.

Diana's eyes filled with tears.

"Yes, and Cousin Cora said she was glad I came. She lost her own boy, you know--he went out with the American Red Cross, and was killed when a Zepp. bombed the hospital. That's two years ago now. I wouldn't have missed saying good-bye to Lenox for worlds. I'd quite a nice ride to Petteridge. It got light directly, and the hills looked beautiful in the dawn. Loveday, you did my practising for me!"

"Not exactly _for_ you! I took your half-hour, and you must take mine instead, from half-past four till tea-time."

"Right-o! But did Bunty come in?"

"Yes; and I told her I wanted to go out with Nesta this afternoon. So I do."

"You don't think anybody suspects?"

"Not a soul!"

Diana came close, and laid a hand on her room-mate's arm.

"Loveday, I'll never forget what you've done for me to-day--_never_! If I ever get the chance to do anything for you in return, you bet I'll do it, no matter _what_ it costs me! You've been a real mascot. There isn't a girl in the school who'd have played up better, certainly not among the seniors. I do think you're just ripping! Did Bunty look _very_ surprised to see you at the piano?"

"She did, rather; but I asked her if Nesta and I might have an exeat this afternoon to go to the Vicarage. Mrs. Fleming gave us an open invitation, you know, to come and see her sketches."

"What a brain! You really are too lovely!" chuckled Diana.

CHAPTER VII