her to the Rocks. He also knew he must keep Merode away from friends until she had made out her account; because there would be reports to be written to Edge, and beyond, and that lady was certain to say the girl had been given an opportunity to concoct the tale.
"Dear me what a crowd," he suggested to Merode, in Edge's accents. "Don't you think we'd better take you back?"
"My leg hurts so, Mr Birt," she complained.
"You never said," he expostulated shrilly, becoming even more like the Principal. "Where does it pain most? Tell me."
By this time the crowd of students was upon them.
"Why, Merode," they cried, "Merode, just look at you," and "What on earth have you done to get in such a state, Merode?" and they giggled.
Upon which the redhaired girl burst into loud, ugly sobs. She put up hands to cover her face.
Elizabeth hastened back to the group followed by Mr Rock, who had set his buckets on the ground. Daisy set forefoot on top of the timber of the pen, and, at the sight of that dinner laid by, redoubled the squealing, to do which there had to be opened a great pink mouth to make display of golden fangs.
"Now my dear, you mustn't," Elizabeth told the girl, and put thin arms about her. "Really not, you'll be fine. We're looking after you now," she said, with a wild look around.
"Oh isn't it awful?" the child moaned.
"We'd best rush her up to the Institute," Sebastian suggested, in his common or garden voice.
"Whoever heard of such a thing, how could you, and in her state," Elizabeth replied, leading this girl in the opposite direction, towards their mauve and yellow cottage.
"Now all you others hurry back then," Sebastian ordered, Edge once again. "How d'you think the decorations will get done if you stand here?" he demanded. They went off. One or two still giggled. "They didn't say a word, not a word passed between her and that lot, you're my witness," he continued in all seriousness, but in a low voice for Mr Rock, unconsciously imitating now the manner of his colleague Dakers.
"Witless?" the old man asked, and laughed. "They don't go by their wits at that age."
Sebastian was so agitated he could not find it in him to answer.
"You should know, whose work it is to teach the creatures," Mr Rock finished, went back to his buckets. At this moment Sebastian noticed the pig's outcries for the first time. It might just have seen the knife the butcher was about to use. He was disgusted. To get away, he hurried after Elizabeth and the girl, into the cottage.
They took Merode back to the Institute as soon as they thought she was a little recovered, and handed her over to Matron, who sent for Marchbanks.
"Miss Edge and Miss Baker's in London," Miss Birks told the child. "You rest yourself while I fetch a cup of tea," she said. "And dear," she added, "I'd pull myself together if I was you. In their position they have to make reports. There'll be a lot of answers they'll be requiring, to know how you came to find yourself with
that Mr Birt, not to speak of the old prof's granddaughter." Merode opened her wet, red mouth, as though to explain. Then she thought better, and did not say a word.
"Why just look at you," Miss Marchbanks cried out the moment she entered.
The child was a sight indeed, lying in the surgery, on the couch covered in deep blue rubber with great highlights from tall windows, while she looked sideways over this older woman.
At the ends of her arms lying along her, she scratched with dirty thumbnails about the caked skin round the red nails of her third fingers.
"It's shock," Matron said, in a satisfied voice.
There was a silence. The girl did not cry, did not speak, just lay there, cautiously watching.
"Well I can't talk while you're in that state," Marchbanks announced, making up her mind. "Have you had anything to eat, at least?" But there was no answer.
"It's shock," Miss Birks claimed again.
"You'd better have a hot bath first," Marchbanks ordered, "and Matron will get you breakfast.
"Dear me what a crowd," he suggested to Merode, in Edge's accents. "Don't you think we'd better take you back?"
"My leg hurts so, Mr Birt," she complained.
"You never said," he expostulated shrilly, becoming even more like the Principal. "Where does it pain most? Tell me."
By this time the crowd of students was upon them.
"Why, Merode," they cried, "Merode, just look at you," and "What on earth have you done to get in such a state, Merode?" and they giggled.
Upon which the redhaired girl burst into loud, ugly sobs. She put up hands to cover her face.
Elizabeth hastened back to the group followed by Mr Rock, who had set his buckets on the ground. Daisy set forefoot on top of the timber of the pen, and, at the sight of that dinner laid by, redoubled the squealing, to do which there had to be opened a great pink mouth to make display of golden fangs.
"Now my dear, you mustn't," Elizabeth told the girl, and put thin arms about her. "Really not, you'll be fine. We're looking after you now," she said, with a wild look around.
"Oh isn't it awful?" the child moaned.
"We'd best rush her up to the Institute," Sebastian suggested, in his common or garden voice.
"Whoever heard of such a thing, how could you, and in her state," Elizabeth replied, leading this girl in the opposite direction, towards their mauve and yellow cottage.
"Now all you others hurry back then," Sebastian ordered, Edge once again. "How d'you think the decorations will get done if you stand here?" he demanded. They went off. One or two still giggled. "They didn't say a word, not a word passed between her and that lot, you're my witness," he continued in all seriousness, but in a low voice for Mr Rock, unconsciously imitating now the manner of his colleague Dakers.
"Witless?" the old man asked, and laughed. "They don't go by their wits at that age."
Sebastian was so agitated he could not find it in him to answer.
"You should know, whose work it is to teach the creatures," Mr Rock finished, went back to his buckets. At this moment Sebastian noticed the pig's outcries for the first time. It might just have seen the knife the butcher was about to use. He was disgusted. To get away, he hurried after Elizabeth and the girl, into the cottage.
They took Merode back to the Institute as soon as they thought she was a little recovered, and handed her over to Matron, who sent for Marchbanks.
"Miss Edge and Miss Baker's in London," Miss Birks told the child. "You rest yourself while I fetch a cup of tea," she said. "And dear," she added, "I'd pull myself together if I was you. In their position they have to make reports. There'll be a lot of answers they'll be requiring, to know how you came to find yourself with
that Mr Birt, not to speak of the old prof's granddaughter." Merode opened her wet, red mouth, as though to explain. Then she thought better, and did not say a word.
"Why just look at you," Miss Marchbanks cried out the moment she entered.
The child was a sight indeed, lying in the surgery, on the couch covered in deep blue rubber with great highlights from tall windows, while she looked sideways over this older woman.
At the ends of her arms lying along her, she scratched with dirty thumbnails about the caked skin round the red nails of her third fingers.
"It's shock," Matron said, in a satisfied voice.
There was a silence. The girl did not cry, did not speak, just lay there, cautiously watching.
"Well I can't talk while you're in that state," Marchbanks announced, making up her mind. "Have you had anything to eat, at least?" But there was no answer.
"It's shock," Miss Birks claimed again.
"You'd better have a hot bath first," Marchbanks ordered, "and Matron will get you breakfast.
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