Charles took no notice.The motor,loaded with refugees,continued to travel very slowly down the hill."The men are there,"chorused the others."Men will see to it.""The men can't see to it.Oh,this is ridiculous!Charles,I ask you to stop.""Stopping's no good,"drawled Charles.
"Isn't it?"said Margaret,and jumped straight out of the car.
She fell on her knees,cut her gloves,shook her hat over her ear.Cries of alarm followed her."You've hurt yourself,"exclaimed Charles,jumping after her.
"Of course I've hurt myself!"she retorted.
"May I ask what--"
"There's nothing to ask,"said Margaret.
"Your hand's bleeding."
"I know."
"I'm in for a frightful row from the pater."
"You should have thought of that sooner,Charles."Charles had never been in such a position before.
It was a woman in revolt who was hobbling away from him,and the sight was too strange to leave any room for anger.He recovered himself when the others caught them up:their sort he understood.He commanded them to go back.
Albert Fussell was seen walking towards them.
"It's all right!"he called."It wasn't a dog,it was a cat.""There!"exclaimed Charles triumphantly."It's only a rotten cat.
"Got room in your car for a little un?I cut as soon as I saw it wasn't a dog;the chauffeurs are tackling the girl."But Margaret walked forward steadily.Why should the chauffeurs tackle the girl?Ladies sheltering behind men,men sheltering behind servants--the whole system's wrong,and she must challenge it.
"Miss Schlegel!'Pon my word,you've hurt your hand.""I'm just going to see,"said Margaret."Don't you wait,Mr.Fussell."The second motor came round the corner."lt is all right,madam,"said Crane in his turn.He had taken to calling her madam.
"What's all right?The cat?"
"Yes,madam.The girl will receive compensation for it.""She was a very ruda girla,"said Angelo from the third motor thoughtfully.
"Wouldn't you have been rude?"
The Italian spread out his hands,implying that he had not thought of rudeness,but would produce it if it pleased her.
The situation became absurd.The gentlemen were again buzzing round Miss Schlegel with offers of assistance,and Lady Edser began to bind up her hand.She yielded,apologizing slightly,and was led back to the car,and soon the landscape resumed its motion,the lonely cottage disappeared,the castle swelled on its cushion of turf,and they had arrived.
No doubt she had disgraced herself.But she felt their whole journey from London had been unreal.They had no part with the earth and its emotions.They were dust,and a stink,and cosmopolitan chatter,and the girl whose cat had been killed had lived more deeply than they.
"Oh,Henry,"she exclaimed,"I have been so naughty,"for she had decided to take up this line."We ran over a cat.
Charles told me not to jump out,but I would,and look!"She held out her bandaged hand."Your poor Meg went such a flop."Mr.Wilcox looked bewildered.In evening dress,he was standing to welcome his guests in the hall.
"Thinking it was a dog,"added Mrs.Warrington.
"Ah,a dog's a companion!"said Colonel Fussell.
"A dog'll remember you."
"Have you hurt yourself,Margaret?"
"Not to speak about;and it's my left hand."
"Well,hurry up and change."
She obeyed,as did the others.Mr.Wilcox then turned to his son.
"Now,Charles,what's happened?"
Charles was absolutely honest.He described what he believed to have happened.Albert had flattened out a cat,and Miss Schlegel had lost her nerve,as any woman might.She had been got safely into the other car,but when it was in motion had leapt out--again,in spite of all that they could say.After walking a little on the road,she had calmed down and had said that she was sorry.
