“I dinna ken you, lassie,” he said coolly to Grizel, and left her stamping her foot at him.  She decided never to speak to Tommy again, but the next time they met he took her into the Den and taught her how to fight.

It is painful to have to tell that Miss Ailie was the person who provided him with the opportunity.  In the readings they arrived one evening at the scene in the conservatory, which has not a single Stroke in it, but is so full of Words We have no Concern with that Tommy reeled home blinking, and next day so disgracefully did he flounder in his lessons that the gentle school-mistress cast up her arms in despair.

“I don’t know what to say to you,” she exclaimed.

“Fine I know what you want to say,” he retorted, and unfortunately she asked, “What?”

“Stroke!” he replied, leering horridly.

“I Love My Love with an A” was returned to the club forthwith (whether he really did have a wife in India Miss Ailie never knew) and “Judd on the Shorter Catechism” took its place.  But mark the result.  The readings ended at a quarter to eight now, at twenty to eight, at half-past seven, and so Tommy could loiter on the way home without arousing Elspeth’s suspicion.  One evening he saw Grizel cutting her way through the Haggerty-Taggerty group, and he offered to come to her aid if she would say “Help me.”  But she refused.

When, however, the Haggerty-Taggertys were gone she condescended to say, “I shall never, never ask you to help me, but—­if you like—­you can show me how to hit without biting my tongue.”

“I’ll learn you Shovel’s curly ones,” replied Tommy, cordially, and he adjourned with her to the Den for that purpose.  He said he chose the Den so that Corp Shiach and the others might not interrupt them, but it was Elspeth he was thinking of.

“You are like Miss Ailie with her cane when she is pandying,” he told Grizel.  “You begin well, but you slacken just when you are going to hit.”

“It is because my hand opens,” Grizel said.

“And then it ends in a shove,” said her mentor, severely.  “You should close your fists like this, with the thumbs inside, and then play dab, this way, that way, yon way.  That’s what Shovel calls, ’You want it, take it, you’ve got it.’”

Thus did the hunted girl get her first lesson in scientific warfare in the Den, and neither she nor Tommy saw the pathos of it.  Other lessons followed, and during the rests Grizel told Tommy all that she knew about herself.  He had won her confidence at last by—­by swearing dagont that he was English also.

CHAPTER XV

THE MAN WHO NEVER CAME

“Is it true that your mother’s a bonny swearer?”

Tommy wanted to find out all about the Painted Lady, and the best way was to ask.

“She does not always swear,” Grizel said eagerly.  “She sometimes says sweet, sweet things.”