This state was followed quickly, however, by a series of reflections which left him ill-natured and sullen, and for the first time in his life, disappointed in her.
"She didn't trust me. She sneaked!"
That was his mental summary, and to do him justice it had some show of truth. He stood stubbornly at the head of the stairs waiting for her to call again.
"Kit!"
Well?"
"I want you."
He walked slowly down, followed by his abashed coadjutors, who lost no time in making their escape. Judy in the meantime had walked over to the stall, where she stood quietly stroking Annie's soft nose. Kit remained by the door watching her, his hands thrust doggedly into his pockets, his hat on the back of his head, and a look of unmistakable mutiny in his eyes. Judy felt that her task was both delicate and difficult.
"I am disappointed, Kit! That language, those boys! What can you see in them?"
He had never known her to manifest so much displeasure at anything before.
"I cannot understand it, Comfort."
A lump came into his throat at the name, but the sense of his disappointment in her still mastered him and kept him silent. At this point the school bell rang. The situation was becoming extreme.
His mother realised it, and waited—devoting herself to Annie, talking softly to her and calling her by the pet names which Kit had invented for her from time to time. But all to no purpose, for when she looked toward the door again he was gone. She could see him disappearing in the direction of the school, his
