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Suppose he was not there? if it was all a trick? and if he had imposed on my simplicity and made a fool of me? The mere possibility of such a thing made me so mad that tears of rage came into my eyes. There must be a bell somewhere. There was; an electric bell, represented by an ivory button. I pressed it: kept on pressing it. No result seemed to follow. I could hear no sound. Was it ringing? If so, where?

As I listened, I was struck by the curious silence. I had no idea that in London it could be so still. Considering the hugeness of the buildings, and the clatter of the great thoroughfare through which I had come, it seemed so odd. Could I be alone in that great place? The prospect did not appear agreeable. I turned to the window. It was quite narrow, though tremendously high, and filled with frosted glass, or whatever they call it, so that I could not see through. I had to stand on a chair to reach the top of the sash. Then I could not see out.

I seemed to have got myself into a thoroughly delightful position. Time was getting on. Hetty and her mother would be wondering if anything had happened to me. Something certainly had. But they would never guess what. How long was I to stop in that room? This was Saturday. I seemed to remember having heard that people left business early on Saturdays. I myself had seen that the shops were being closed. Perhaps that was the explanation of the silence. Everybody might have gone. The whole place might be deserted. In that case not a creature might be back till Monday. I had heard the Ogre say to the departing youth, -

"You'll be here at the usual time on Monday?"

Monday! Was it conceivable that I might have to stay in that wretch's office till-Monday! Long before then I should be raving mad. I picked up a ruler off the table and hammered with it on the door and shouted. How I shouted! But no one took the slightest notice-I doubted very much if there was anyone to hear. The room through which I had come was much larger than the one in which I was. The passage was beyond. If, as was probable, the outer door was also closed, then my noise would hardly penetrate into the passage. Apart from the fact that the offices were at the end of the passage, and that no one would be likely to come that way, except on business. And if business was over until Monday?

But I was not disposed to simply hammer and shout. I proposed to do something. Monte Cristo escaped from the Chateau d'If. And if by any possible means I could win my way out I did not intend to remain the Ogre's prisoner a moment longer than I could help. So, by way of a commencement, I smashed the window. With the ruler I deliberately knocked out as much of the frosted glass as I could. Most of it went outside and, amid the prevailing stillness, it seemed to make quite a terrible noise. I found that the look-out was into a sort of well. The frame was so narrow, and the fringe of broken glass so obvious, that I could not lean right out; and from as far as I could get I could not see the bottom, nor the top either. There were walls and windows above, below, all around. And, so far as I could perceive, nothing else.

While I was wondering whatever I should do next, a window right opposite, on the other side of the well, was thrown up, and someone looked out, a masculine someone. I do not think I was ever so glad to see anyone in my life as I was to see that boy-he appeared to me to be a boy, though I daresay he supposed himself to be a man. The sight of me seemed to occasion him surprise-which was not to be wondered at.

"I beg your pardon, but-have you just broken that window?

"I have!"

"It made such an all-fired din that I thought something had happened."

"Something has happened! I'm shut up in here!"

"No? Are you? What a horrid shame. We're in the same box, because I'm shut up in here. Governor told me not to go till he came back from lunch, and as he's gone off with some other fellows to a regular spread, it looks as though he's never coming back again. And I ought to be down at Richmond for a cricket match. It looks like getting there! Though what they'll do without me I can't think. Because, apart from batting, with the leather I'm a marvel. My name's Clifford-perhaps you know my name? Last Saturday, playing for the Putney Pilgrims, I took eight wickets in nine overs. It was in the papers. Perhaps you saw it there. I don't know if you're interested in that sort of thing."

He rattled on at such a rate that he did not give me a chance to speak.

"I'm afraid you don't understand: I'm locked in here."

"Locked in? No? Not really?"

"Yes, really!" He was dense. "And I want you to come and break down the door and let me out."

"Break down the door? Me? What ho! Pray, are you trying to take a rise out of yours truly? I'm more than seven, you know."

"You don't look it; and you don't sound it either."

I tried to explain.

"If you will listen, I will endeavour to make you understand. This place belongs to a robber and a thief. I came to get back some of the things he has stolen. He's gone away and locked the door, and left me here, and I want you to come and let me out!"

"I say! Isn't that rather a rummy story?"

"I don't know if it's rummy or not-it's true! And if you don't want to see me throw myself out of the window you'll come, at once!"

"For goodness' sake, don't talk about throwing yourself out of the window. You'd make an awful mess if you did. It's a bit of a drop-Hollo! here's the governor!"

I heard a voice speaking behind him.

"Yes, here is the governor. And pray, Master Clifford, what are you doing there?" Master Clifford vanished. In his place appeared a short dark man, with an eyeglass and a moustache turned up at the ends. He smiled in my direction as if he had known me all his life. "Delighted to see you. Lovely afternoon, isn't it? You make a charming picture in that frame."

"I'm a prisoner!" I cried.

"You're what?"

"A prisoner!"

"You look as if it were more your custom to make captives of others. Are you in earnest?"

"Don't I sound as if I were in earnest? Of course I am in earnest!"

I tried to explain all over again. The stupidity of some people is extraordinary. Even when I had finished he did not seem to comprehend.

"Do you know that you're proposing that I should break into another man's premises?"

"Do you want me to stop locked in here till you do! Because I shall go mad and kill myself long before then."

"May I ask your name?"

"My name is Molly Boyes, and I live at The Chase, West Marden, and I ought to have met Hetty Travers at St James's Hall at half-past two, and now I don't know what time it is!"

"But I do. It's time I was off."

He spoke as if he did not care a button about me. I was seized with a perfect paroxysm of fear.

"Oh please-please-please-don't go and leave me! – please let me out! – please-please!"

I could not see his face through my blinding tears; but I fancy I startled him.

"My dear Miss Boyes! Don't distress yourself like that! You'll spoil those pretty eyes of yours! You mustn't think me a brute; but yours is such an extraordinary statement. But, as you do seem serious, I'll come round and see what I can do. By the way, where are you?"

"I'm at 169; it's called The People's Stock Exchange, and belongs to a man who calls himself Kenrick, but-his-real-name's-Stephen-Miller!"

"So that's The People's Stock Exchange! I wasn't aware we were such close neighbours. I begin to see daylight. So you're one of the sheep, and you've been fleeced! I fancy it won't be the first shindy they've had at that establishment. Here, Clifford, just go and find a policeman and bring him here! If you'll wait, Miss Boyes, I'll come round to you as soon as I possibly can."

He vanished-and I waited. As if there was anything else I could do! My heart sank directly he vanished from the window. He did not seem a bit in earnest. I felt convinced that he would not care a scrap if I was locked in there until the crack of given another glance at his watch, he would come to the conclusion that it was more than time for him to go off home to tea, and that it really was not worth while bothering about the girl over the way. He seemed that kind of man. Supposing he did? My last straw would be gone!

As the hours-which, I suppose, according to the clock, were only minutes-dragged past, and still nothing happened, I concluded that that was what he had done. What a state of mind I was in! I hammered with the ruler, and yelled and shouted, so that I might attract attention if anyone was about. And at last-such a long at last-I heard the outside door being opened; footsteps approached my door; there was a little fumbling with the keyhole; and-I was unlocked! There stood a porter-looking sort of person, a policeman, and the eye-glassed man from over the way. He had had more sense-and more heart-than I had imagined. He had hunted up a caretaker, who actually possessed a key-I think it was one key, though I own I do not see how it could have been-which opened every door in the place, and with it he had opened the one behind which I was imprisoned.

Oh, with what rapture I greeted those three extremely plain-looking men! No wonder they seemed pleased with themselves when I almost jumped into their arms!

That night I slept at Beckenham. Hetty and her mother were nearly out of their minds. Mr Sanford had gone to the concert. When I did not appear he telegraphed home to know what had become of me. On their replying that I had gone to London with the intention of going to the concert, he tore about in every direction. By the time I did turn up they appeared to have concluded that I must be dead. Their countenances when I told them my adventures!

When the Ogre left me locked in his private office he left The People's Stock Exchange for good. He never showed his face in that neighbourhood again. It seemed that he had used the money of which he had robbed us to help him to rob others. The People's Stock Exchange was a gigantic swindle. I did not quite understand how; but Mr Sanford said that he deserved penal servitude for life. Next time I see him he will probably get it.

I do not know what became of that cab of mine. Nor of the parcels which I left inside. And in them were some lovely things. It's a dreadful shame!

VI
BREAKING THE ICE

Shortly after my seventeenth birthday Mr Sanford and I had a serious difference of opinion which almost amounted to a quarrel. I do not say that the fault was entirely his. But that is not the point. The point is whether, every time you happen to be not quite exactly right, you are to be treated as if you were a mere worm, and have your age thrown in your face.

It was not my fault that I was only seventeen. As Mr Pitt said-I remember reading about it at Mrs Sawyer's-being young is a crime one grows out of. Rome was not built in a day. You cannot do everything at once. It is quite certain that you cannot be ninety in five minutes. I was perfectly aware that Mr Sanford was twenty-five. It is not a time of life against which I have a word to say. I feel sure that it is a delightful age. But I cannot understand why persons who are twenty-five should consider themselves so immensely superior to persons who are only seventeen. Or, if they are superior, and are known to be, that is no reason why they should show it.

On my birthday Mr Sanford gave me a box of gloves. Now I am five feet five and a half inches high. I know I am, because when Dick made me stand up against the wall with my hair down and a book on my head, he said he never should have thought it from the look of me. Which was not a nice thing to say. But then brothers have manners of their own. I want to know what size of hand a person who is nearly five feet six high ought to have. Because, directly I opened the box, I saw that they were lovely gloves, but that they were all six and a half.

"Oh, what a pity!" I cried. "They'll be like boats on me! I take six and a quarter!"

Of course, I am conscious that it was not precisely a civil remark to make; and, had I reflected, I might not have made it. But it was out before I even guessed it was coming. As it was out, it was. And, anyhow, it was simply the truth. At the time, Mr Sanford was as nice as possible. He expressed his regret for the mistake which had occurred, and volunteered to change them.

He did change them. Four or five days afterwards he came with another box. It was the sixteenth of November, a Thursday. As it turned out to be a memorable day to me, I have the best of reasons for keeping the exact date in my mind. I shall never forget it-never-not if I live long enough to lose my memory. It was very cold. All the week it had been freezing. That is, off and on. Because I admit that it might occasionally have risen above freezing point. But it certainly had been freezing all the day before, and all that morning-hard. Ice was everywhere. I had made up my mind to try it, and had just finished cleaning my skates when Mr Sanford came in.

"Why," he exclaimed, when he saw them, "what are you going to do with those?"

"I'm going to skate with them. What is one generally supposed to do with skates?"

"But, my dear Miss Boyes, it's impossible. After two or three days' more frost, perhaps, but at present the ice won't bear."

Now there was just that something about his tone which nettled me. It was the way he had of taking it for granted that, because he said a thing, the matter was necessarily at an end, since it was impossible to imagine that anyone would venture on remonstrance.

"I daresay it will be strong enough to bear me."

"I very much doubt it."

"Do you? Do you skate?"

"A little."

"Then, since that sister and those brothers of mine have gone off, they alone know where, may I venture to suggest that you should come with me?"

"I shall be delighted-as far as the ice. I'm sure you'll find that it won't bear. And, anyhow, I've no skates."

"There are a pair of Dick's. They're not very rusty. And I don't suppose you'll find them very much too small."

He took them up-and smiled.

"As you say, they're not very rusty, and I daresay my feet are not very much more gigantic than Dick's, but-"

"But what?"

"I shall be very glad to come with you to examine the ice. But when you get to it you'll find that skating is out of the question."

"If I get to the ice I promise you that I'll go on it. I am passionately fond of skating, and as we so seldom get any, I like to take advantage of every chance I get. Besides, I am not afraid of a little cold water, even if it does happen to be a degree or two under the usual temperature."

He laughed. He had a way of laughing when I said things which were not meant to be comical which puzzled me and annoyed me too. Fortunately for himself he changed the subject, handing me the box he had been carrying.

"I've brought the gloves. This time I hope you will find that they are not like boats. I am credibly informed that they are six and a quarter."

"Thank you so much. I really am ashamed of myself for giving you so much trouble-it's so sweet of you. Oh, what lovely gloves. Just the shades I like. As I have brought none down with me I think I'll put a pair on now."

I ought to have known better. I had, as I have said, just finished cleaning my skates, and had been washing my hands, and, in consequence, they were cold. It is not, at any time, the work of only a moment to put on a brand new pair of properly-fitting gloves. Everybody knows that, who knows anything at all. They require coaxing. Especially is this the case when your hands are cold. And certainly the task is not rendered easier by the knowledge that you are being observed by critical, supercilious eyes, towards whose owner you entertain a touch of resentment. Those gloves would not go on. The consciousness that Mr Sanford was staring at me with obvious amusement made me, perhaps, more awkward than I should have been. But, whatever the cause, I do not think I ever had so much trouble with a pair of gloves either before or since.

Presently he spoke.

"Rather tight, aren't they?"

"Tight? What do you mean? I suppose they're six and a quarter?"

"Oh, yes, they're six and a quarter. But don't you think it might have been better to have kept the original six and a half for the sake of the additional ease?"

"Ease? You don't want ease in a glove."

"No? That's rather a novel point of view. Do you want it to be uneasy, then?"

"A properly fitting glove never is uneasy. You are possibly not aware that a new glove always is a little difficult to get on the first time."

"Yes-so it seems."

Something in his tone annoyed me, particularly the impertinent suggestion which I felt sure it was intended to convey. I gave an angry try at the glove, and, behold! it split. I know I went crimson all over. Mr Sanford laughed outright.

"When you try to cram a quart into a pint pot something is bound to go."

A ruder remark I had never had addressed to me. My own brothers could not have been more vulgar. Even they had never compared my hand with either a quart or a pint pot. An observation of that kind it was impossible that I should condescend to notice. Removing the glove, with all the dignity at my command, I replaced it in the box.

"I think that I had better wear a pair of gloves which have become adapted to the unfortunate conformation of my hands."

"But, Molly-"

"I don't know who has given you permission to use my Christian name, Mr Sanford. I have noticed that you have done so two or three times recently. I am not a relative of yours."

His eyes twinkled. Although I did not look at him I knew they did, because of the peculiar way in which he spoke. When they twinkled there was always something in his voice which, to the trained ear, was unmistakable. Not that I wish it to be inferred that I had paid any attention to Mr Sanford's oddities. It was the mere result of my tendency to notice trifles.

"But, Miss Boyes, I never could understand why a woman of reasonable and proper and delightful proportions should show a desire to be the possessor of a hand which, as regards dimensions, would be only suited to a dwarf."

"Is it I you are calling a monster, or only my hand?"

"Neither. I should not presume to call you anything. But I would take leave to observe that you have as dainty, as well-shaped, as capable, and, I may add, as characteristic a pair of hands as I have ever seen."

"Personal remarks are not in the best of taste, are they? I believe I have had occasion to point that out to you before."

I took that box of gloves upstairs and I banged them on the dressing-table. When I looked into the glass I saw that my cheeks were glowing, and my eyes too. It was plain that I was in a perfect passion. The most exasperating part of it was that I knew what a fright bad temper made of me. It always does of your black sort of people.

Never did I meet anyone with a greater capacity for rubbing you the wrong way than Mr Sanford. And so autocratic! I suppose that if he is of opinion that I ought to wear six and three-quarters I shall have to. But I will give him clearly to understand that, whatever size my hands may be, I shall wear sixes if I like. I do not propose to allow him to lay down the law to me, even on the question of gloves.

I kept him waiting as long as ever I could, though up in my bedroom, where there was no fire, it was positively freezing, and every moment I grew colder and colder, till I felt I must be congealing. But I knew that he hated waiting, so, while I dawdled, I wondered if everybody was crushed by everybody else as some people crushed me, or, at least, as they tried to. When I got down he was standing at the window, staring out into the grounds.

"Are you still there? I thought you would have gone. I trust that you have not remained on my account. I didn't hurry. Even an old pair of gloves cannot be put on in half a second."

"So it would appear."

"As you are not going to skate, and I am, I won't keep you."

"You were good enough to ask me to come with you to see if the ice would bear."

"I'm sure it will bear enough for me, though probably not enough for you. And as you're nervous, it's hardly worth while to put you to any further trouble. You would hardly find it amusing to stand on the bank and watch me skating."

"Well, I can fancy more objectionable occupations."

"Can you? There is no accounting for people's fancies."

"There certainly isn't."

"So, as I am already later than I intended, I will wish you good-day. And thank you so much for the gloves."

"Good-day, and pray don't mention the gloves-ever again. But I'm going with you all the same. I'll borrow Dick's skates on the off-chance, and ask his permission afterwards."

"Oh, I've no doubt that Dick will have no objection to your taking them; but as you're not going to skate, really, Mr Sanford, it's not the slightest use your coming."

"No use, but a great deal of pleasure for me. Let me carry your skates."

"Thank you, but I prefer to carry them myself."

He planted himself in front of me, looked me in the face, stretched out his arm, and took the skates from my hand. The astonishing part of it being that I did not offer the slightest resistance.

"I do declare, Mr Sanford, that you're the most dictatorial person I ever met. You appear to be under the impression that people are not entitled to have opinions of their own on any subject whatever. I suppose I may carry my own skates if I want to."

"Quite so. Suppose we start."

We did start; though I was more than half inclined-since he was evidently bent on accompanying me-not to go at all. From the way we were beginning I foresaw what would be the end; or, at least, I imagined I did. Because, of course, what actually did happen never entered my head even as a remote possibility.

I was in a vitriolic temper, which was not improved by the knowledge that I was behaving badly, and should, in all probability before long, behave much worse. There is nothing more galling than the consciousness that the person with whom you are angry is in the right, and knows it, and is therefore indisposed to take any notice of your tantrums, being resolved, do what you will, not to take you seriously. That was what used to make me so mad with Mr Sanford; he would not regard me as if I were a serious character. He would persist in treating me as if I were a child. Even if I did sometimes behave like one, it ought to have made no difference, since at seventeen you are not a child, and can behave exactly as you please, because you are grown up. Especially after the experience of the world which I had had.

The lake was more than a mile away from the house; amid the pine-trees in Mr Glennon's wood. A lovely walk. Particularly in that sort of weather. But, as the poet does not say, no prospect pleases when your temper is vile. The mere fact that I yearned to beg Mr Sanford's pardon for being so disagreeable made me nastier than ever. It may sound incredible; it is true. Such conversation as there was suggested that horrid game called "Snap" – played ill-naturedly.

"Are you an expert skater, Miss Boyes?"

"I can keep myself from falling, though, of course, I cannot compare with you."

"I assure you that I have no pretensions in that direction. Like you, I can keep myself from falling and that's all."

"Meaning, I presume, that I cannot even do that. Thank you."

Silence. I knew the man was smiling, although I did not look at him. After we had gone about another hundred yards he spoke again.

"I always think a woman looks so graceful on the ice."

"You won't think so any longer after you have seen me."

"I think I shall. I cannot conceive you as looking anything but graceful, anywhere, in any position."

"I don't think you need sneer."

"Miss Boyes."

"Mr Sanford?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"You beg my pardon? What for?"

"I don't quite know. But I feel you feel that it would be more becoming on my part. So I do so. Please will you forgive me?"

"If you have no objection I should prefer to turn back. I do not care to skate to-day."

"You need not skate. As I have already remarked, I am convinced that the ice will not bear. But we can at least continue our walk."

"I shall skate if we do go on. On that I am determined."

"You are not always so aggressive."

"Nor are you always so domineering. Though I admit that as a rule you are. At home they must find you unbearable."

"I hope not. I am sorry you find me domineering. Particularly as you are yourself so-plastic."

"I am not plastic. I don't know what you mean. But I am sure I am nothing of the kind."

"Molly."

We had reached the stile over which you have to climb to get into the wood. He had crossed first, and I was standing on the top step-he was holding my hand in his to help me over. I did not notice that he had called me Molly.

"Yes?"

"I wish you would be pleasant to me sometimes. You don't know what a difference it would make to me."

"What nonsense! I am perfectly convinced that, under any circumstances, nothing I could say or do could be of the slightest consequence to you."

"Couldn't it? You try!"

"I am much too young."

"Too young! Too young!"

There was all at once something in his voice and manner which gave me quite a start. I snatched my hand away and jumped down to the ground.

"We can't stop here all day if we mean to do any skating, and I for one certainly do."

I marched off at about five miles an hour. He wore an air of meekness which was so little in keeping with his general character that, at the bottom of my heart, it rather appalled me.

"I would sooner be snubbed by you than flattered by another woman."

"Snubbed by me! Considering how you're always snubbing me, that's amusing."

"I never mean to snub you."

"You never mean to? Then you must be singularly unfortunate in having to so constantly act in direct opposition to your intentions. To begin with, you hardly ever treat me as if I were a woman at all."

"Well, you are not a woman-are you-quite?"

"Mr Sanford! When you talk like that I feel-! Pray what sort of remark do you call that?"

"You are standing at the stepping stones."

"At the stepping-stones?"

"Happy is the man who is to lead you across them."

"I don't in the least understand you. And I would have you to know that I feel that it is high time that I should put childish things behind me; and I should like other people to recognise that I have done so."

"Childish things? What are childish things? Oh, Molly, I wish that you could always be a child. And the pity is that one of these days you'll be wishing it too."

"I'm sure I sha'n't. It's horrid to be a child."

"Is it?"

"You are always being snubbed."

"Are you?"

"No one treats you with the least respect; or imagines that you can possibly ever be in earnest. As for opinions of your own-it's considered an absurdity that you should ever have them. Look at you! You're laughing at me at this very moment."

"Don't you know why I am laughing at you, Molly?"

Again there was something in the way in which he asked the question which gave me the oddest feeling. As if I was half afraid. Ever since we had left the stile I had been conscious of the most ridiculous sense of nervousness. A thing with which, as a rule, I am never troubled. I was suddenly filled with a wild desire to divert the conversation from ourselves, no matter how. So I made a desperate plunge.

"Have you seen anything of Hetty lately?"

He was still for a moment, as if the sudden reference to his cousin occasioned him surprise; and that not altogether of a pleasant kind. Though I did not see why it should have done.

"I was not speaking of Hetty. Nor am I anxious to, just now."

"Aren't you? Have you quarrelled with her, as well?"

"As well? Why do you say as well?"

"Oh, I don't know. You're always quarrelling."

"That's not true."

"Thank you. Is that a snub? Or merely a compliment?"

"Molly, why will you treat me like this? It's you who treat me like a child, not I you."

"There's the lake at last, thank goodness!"

I did not care if it was rude or not. I was delighted to see it, so I said so plainly. What is more, I tore off towards it as hard as I could. My rush was so unexpected that I was clean away before he knew it. All the same he reached the lake as soon as I did. He could run, just as he could do everything else. The ice looked splendid, smooth as a sheet of glass. All about were the pines with their frosted branches. They seemed to stand in rows, so that they looked like the pillars in the aisles of some great cathedral. And then pine-trees always are so solemn and so still.

"Give me my skates, please. I want to get them on at once. Doesn't the ice look too lovely for anything?

"It's not a question of what it looks like, but of what it will bear." He stepped on to the edge. It gave an ominous crack. I daresay, if he had waited, long enough, it would have given way beneath him. But he did not. He hopped back on to the solid ground. "You see!"

"Excuse me, but that is exactly what I do not do. Here it is under the shadow of the trees. Besides, the water is so shallow that it is practically cat's ice. I'm sure it's all right a little further round and in the middle. It's often cracky near the edge."

"I am sure it is not safe anywhere."

"Will you please give me my skates, Mr Sanford?"

He looked at me. So as to let him see that I had no intention of being cowed, I looked back at him.

"I hope that, this once, you will be advised. I assure you it is unsafe."

"Please give me my skates."

He laughed, in that queer way he had of laughing at unexpected moments, when there certainly seemed nothing to laugh at.

"Good. Then it is decided. We will both go skating."

"Both? It is not necessary that we should do anything of the kind. I wish you would let me do as I like, without criticism. Who appointed you to have authority over me? Who suggested that because I choose to do a thing you should do it too? I prefer not to have you attached to my apron-strings. Give me my skates. You can go home. I would rather you did."

"If you skate, I skate also."

"As you please, if you can get over your timidity. There is room on the lake for two. If you will choose one end I will have the other."