The Lions Share | Page 4

had ever threaded that ticklish
navigation. She was a shallow-draft barge-yacht, rigged like a Thames
barge, and her whiteness and the glint of her brass, and the flicker of
her ensign at the stern were dazzling. Blue figures ran busily about on
her, and a white-and-blue person in a peaked cap stood importantly at
the wheel.
"She was on the mud last night," said Audrey eagerly, "opposite the
Flank buoy, and she came up this morning at half-flood. I think they
made fast at Lousey Hard, because they couldn't get any farther without
waiting. They have a motor, and it must be their first trip this season. I
was on the dyke. I wasn't even looking at them, but they called me, so I
had to go. They only wanted to know if Lousey Hard was private. Of
course I told them it wasn't. It was a very middle-aged man spoke to me.
He must be the owner. As soon as they were tied up he wanted to jump
ashore. It was rather awkward, and I just held out my hand to help him.
Father saw me from here. I might have known he would."
"Why! It's going off!" exclaimed Miss Ingate.
The yacht swung slowly round, held by her stern to the Hard. Then the
last hawser was cast off, and she floated away on the first of the ebb;
and as she moved, her main-sail, unbrailed, spread itself out and
became a vast pinion. Like a dream of happiness she lessened and
faded, and Lousey Hard was as lonely and forlorn as ever.

"But didn't you explain to your father?" Miss Ingate demanded of
Audrey.
"Of course I did. But he wouldn't listen. He never does. I might just as
well have explained to the hall-clock. He raged. I think he enjoys losing
his temper. He said I oughtn't to have been there at all, and it was just
like me, and he couldn't understand it in a daughter of his, and it would
be a great shock to my poor mother, and he'd talked enough--he should
now proceed to action. All the usual things. He actually asked me who
'the man' was."
"And who was it?"
"How can I tell? For goodness' sake don't go imitating father, Winnie! ...
Rather a dull man, I should say. Rather like father, only not so old. He
had a beautiful necktie; I think it must have been made out of a strip of
Joseph's coat."
Miss Ingate giggled at a high pitch, and Audrey responsively smiled.
"Oh dear! Oh dear!" murmured Miss Ingate when her giggling was
exhausted. "How queer it is that a girl like you can't keep your father in
a good temper!"
"Father hates me to say funny things. If I say anything funny he turns
as black as ink--and he takes care to keep gloomy all the rest of the day,
too. He never laughs. Mother laughs now and then, but I never heard
father laugh. Oh yes, I did. He laughed when the cat fell out of the
bathroom window on to the lawn-roller. He went quite red in the face
with laughing.... I say, Miss Ingate, do you think father's mad?"
"I shouldn't think he's what you call mad," replied Miss Ingate
judicially, with admirable sang-froid. "I've known so many peculiar
people in my time. And you must remember, Audrey, this is a peculiar
part of the world."
"Well, I believe he's mad, anyway. I believe he's got men on the brain,
especially young men. He's growing worse. Yesterday he told me I

musn't have the punt out on Mozewater this season unless he's with me.
Fancy skiffing about with father! He says I'm too old for that now. So
there you are. The older I get the less I'm allowed to do. I can't go a
walk, unless it's an errand. The pedal is off my bike, and father is much
too cunning to have it repaired. I can't boat. I'm never given any money.
He grumbles frightfully if I want any clothes, so I never want any.
That's my latest dodge. I've read every book in the house except the
silly liturgical and legal things he's always having from the London
Library--and I've read even some of those. He won't buy any new
music. Golf! Ye gods, Winnie, you should hear him talk about ladies
and golf!"
"I have," said Miss Ingate. "But it doesn't ruffle me, because I don't
play."
"But he plays with girls, and young girls, too, all the same. He's been
caught in the act. Ethel told me. He little thinks I know. He'd let me
play if he could be the only man on the course. He's mad about me and
men. He never looks at me without thinking