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Glyn Severn's Schooldays, a novel by George Manville Fenn

Chapter 12. "With Faces Like This"

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_ CHAPTER TWELVE. "WITH FACES LIKE THIS"

Singh's encounter with Slegge had been very short, and when the Doctor sent him in the tokens of the affray were very slight; but a few hours afterwards certain discolorations were so manifest that the Doctor frowned and told him he had better join his companion in the dormitory for a few days and consider himself in Mrs Hamton's charge. Singh hailed the order with delight, and went straight to his bedroom, where the plump, pleasant, elderly housekeeper had just entered before him, carrying a small basin half-full of some particular liniment-like preparation of her own, a sponge, and a soft towel.

When Singh appeared at the door Glyn sat up so suddenly that he nearly knocked over the basin that Mrs Hamton had given him to hold, after spreading the soft towel in his lap, when she began sponging his face with the preparation.

"Oh, my dear child," she cried, "pray, be careful!"

"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed the boy merrily.--"Oh, do look at him, Mrs Hamton. What a guy!"

"Guy!" cried Singh sharply. "What do you mean?"

He dashed to the dressing-table and took his first look at his face in the glass since he had dressed that morning.

"Oh, I say," he cried, "I never thought of this. Why, it's just like my face was that day after the sergeant had shown us how to use the boxing-gloves."

"Yes," cried Glyn merrily; "but what sort of a phiz would you have had if you had fought it out?"

"One something like yours," cried Singh. "Oh, I say, you ought to talk! What eyes! and your lip all cut. Why, your face is all on one side."

"Yes, isn't it shocking, my dear," said the old housekeeper. "I do hope that it will be a lesson to you both. I never could understand why young gentlemen were so fond of fighting."

"Oh, it's because it's so nice, Mrs Hamton," said Glyn, who spoke as if he were in the height of glee.

"I don't believe you mean that, my dear; but there, lie back in the chair again, and let me go on dabbing all your poor cuts and bruises with this lotion and water. It's so cooling and healing, and it will take all the inflammation out.--And don't you go, my dear," she continued, turning to Singh, "till I have done your face over too."

"I am not going," said Singh quietly. "The Doctor sent me up here to stop."

"Has he?" cried Glyn. "Oh, hurrah! Here, Mrs Hamton, another patient for you to make decent.--I say, Singhy, she's just come from old Slegge. I'm afraid I've made his face in a horrible mess."

"You have indeed, my dear," said the housekeeper reproachfully. "But oh, what a pity it is that young gentlemen will so far forget themselves! It grieves me; it does indeed."

"But I don't forget myself," protested Glyn. "I was obliged to fight. You wouldn't have had me lie down and let him knock both of us about for nothing, would you, nurse--I mean Mrs Hamton?"

"Oh, don't ask me, my dear; it's not for me to say; and you needn't mind calling me nurse, for it always sounds nice and pleasant to me. There, now, doesn't that feel cool and comforting?"

"Lovely," cried Glyn softly, and as he looked up in the pleasant face, with its grey curls on either side, his eyes for the moment, what could be seen of them, seemed to be sparkling with mischief and mirth, for there was a feeling of pride and triumph at his success swelling in his breast, and a few moments later, so great was the comfort he experienced under the delicate manipulation of his motherly attendant's hands, that he looked up at her and began to smile--only began, for he uttered an ejaculation of pain.

"Oh, my dear, did I hurt you?" cried the housekeeper.

"No," said the boy, in rather a piteous tone; "it was my face. It's all stiff and queer."

"Yes, I told you that it was one-sided," said Singh merrily.

"Well, never mind, my dear; it will soon be better," said the housekeeper soothingly. "But you must do exactly what I tell you, and be very patient and still."

"But, I say, look here, Mrs Hamton," cried Glyn, catching the hand which was bearing the sponge and holding it to his cheek, to the old lady's intense satisfaction, though somehow there came an unwonted look of moisture in her eyes.

"What were you going to say, my dear? But, dear, dear, what a pity it is that you should go and disfigure yourselves like this! What would your poor father say if he knew?"

"Oh, I say, don't talk about it," cried Glyn.--"Fancy, Singhy, if he could see us now!"

Glyn tried to whistle, but his puffed-up lips refused to give forth a sound; and, seeing this, Singh whistled for him, and then in spite of the pain and stiffness of their faces the two boys laughed till the suffering became intense.

"Oh, don't, don't, don't, Singhy!" cried Glyn. "I can't bear it."

"Well, I never did see two such young gentlemen as you are," said the old housekeeper, smiling in turn.

"You ought both to be lying back looking as melancholy as black, and here you are making fun of your troubles. Ah, it's a fine thing, my dears, to be boys and quite young; but I do hope that you will never fight any more, and that you will both soon go and shake hands with Mr Slegge, and tell him you are very sorry you hit him. I am sure that he must feel very sorry that he ever hit you, he being so much bigger and having so long had the advantage of being taught by the Doctor, who is the best man that ever lived, while you two are so new, and you, Mr Singh, so much younger than Mr Slegge that I do wonder he ever so far forgot himself as to hit you. Now, you will make friends afterwards, won't you?"

"No!" cried Singh sharply. "I hate the coward."

"Oh, my dear!" cried the old lady.

"He doesn't mean it, nursey," cried Glyn, getting hold of her hand again. "He only said it because he feels so sore. He's got a sore face and a sore temper; but it will be all right when he gets well."

"I hope so, my dear; and you will shake hands with him, won't you?"

"Yes," said Glyn merrily, "as soon as he holds out his. I can afford to.--Can't I, Singhy?"

"Oh yes, of course."

"There," said the old lady, "now that's spoken nicely, and I don't think I'll bathe your face any more.--Now, my dear," she continued to Singh, "it's your turn."

"Oh, mine doesn't want doing, does it?" said the boy carelessly.

"Yes, my dear, and very badly too. If it isn't bathed with my lotion it will go on swelling, and be more discoloured still."

"Oh!" cried the boy eagerly.--"Here, you, Glyn, get up out of that chair. It's my turn now, as Mrs Hamton says," and he took another glimpse at the glass. "There, I'm ready. Oh, I say, I do look a wretch!"

Under the care of the good-natured old housekeeper during the next two days a great deal of the swelling went down; but after the old lady's report, and visits from the Doctor himself, they were both still treated as infirmary patients, and relieved from lessons till such time as they should be presentable amongst their fellows.

But on the third day the confinement was growing irksome in the extreme; and the Doctor, after his daily visit, gave Singh permission to come down into the grounds if he liked. But the boy did not like. A glance at his companion in adversity revealed a disappointed look, and as soon as the Doctor was gone he picked up one of the books with which they were well supplied.

"Well," said Glyn gloomily, "why don't you go down?"

"Because I don't want to," was the reply; and no more was said.

But that afternoon soon after dinner, which was brought up to them by the housekeeper on a folding-tray, and just when the irksomeness of their position was pressing hardest upon their brains, there was a quick step on the stairs, a sharp tap at the door, the handle was turned without any waiting for permission, and Wrench's head was thrust in.

"I say, young gents," he cried, "here's a go!"

"What's the matter?" asked Glyn anxiously. "Don't say Slegge's worse."

"I wasn't going to, sir. It's something worse than that."

"What?"

"There's a gentleman along with the Doctor."

"A gentleman!" cried the boys together.

"Yes; a tall, military-looking gentleman, with long white starchers, and such a voice. He seemed as if he wanted to look me through. Fierce as fierce he was when he gave me his card to take in."

"What was on the card?" cried Glyn excitedly.

"Can't you guess, sir?" said the man, grinning.

"Colonel Severn!" shouted Singh.

"My father!" gasped Glyn. "Oh, Singhy! And us with faces like this!" _

Read next: Chapter 13. Before The "Starchers"

Read previous: Chapter 11. The Cutting Of The Cock's Comb

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