THE RIGHT KIND OF GUIDE.

Waikato Times, Volume 119, Issue 9817, 22 February 1936, Page 20 (Supplement)

THE RIGHT KIND OF GUIDE.

{Continued from last week). w “Surely she doesn't think we’re such snobs ns to care whether she lives in a cottage or a mansion like this” — with a quick glance round the big handsomely furnished library where the pair were sitting, “if we went to her home, it’d be to see her, not the place.” Audrey shrugged her shoulders. *• There wouldn’t be much for anyone to do in a cottage like the Carews’, and l believe one of the family is awfully delicate —an invalid or someIhing. ' nnce when we were out driving in that direction we passed Isobel wheeling someone in a bathehair.” •• Oh ! P raps that’s why Isobel always stajs at home on half-hols. How ripping of her!” You're rather keen on Isobel, aren't w.r.’ : was. when she drat came, hi:; her rdmul-ofllsli. 1 ean’t-be-bother-cti-w ilh-you muuner wasn't what I v ~ui • | in a pal. and I soon cooled off |.,1 " ~ said airily. “It's odd tha I xon should like her so much, Y,, s ;t always seems as though she had •• Tknow. U She thinks I'm a hopeless dud and spoil e\erytliing for the Patrol.'* .lean admitted unhappily. “If I don't pass those wretched lesls to- •• Isobel II cut you dead for the rest o l ' the term! Well, it won’t be my I. ull. Fm sure I've done my best for >nu." Audrey announced, with the air i,;- ~ne who has done her duty nobly. •• Must you be going now? ’’ as Jean rose in * her feet. “Good-bye, then, and mind you do me credit to-mor- •• I II try! Thanks awfully, Audrey!” Hut it must be confessed that Jean s thoughts as she bicycled homewards were more concerned with Audrey’s n marks about the Carews than with the forthcoming tests. In !hc light of what Audrey had said, Isobel’s apparent unfriendliness assumed a new a spec l, and warm-hearted Jean felt more than ever anxious to break through the reserve with which Isobel surrounded herself. •*lf l pass my tests, and win the Signaller’s badge before the Display, p'raps lsobel’ll like me a little better,” she thought hopefully. Unluckily, the “ If ” proved to be an uncompromisingly big one. Her fellow Robins, waiting for her in the cloakroom after school next atternoon,. knew at once from her j downcast face as she joined them that poor Jean had failed again. “Well, what was it this time? ” tiwen demanded resignedly. “Knots?” “ No, Morse,” Jean answered miserably. “Morse! And wed contemplated gelling I lie Signaller's Badge for llie l’ulrol —" Isobcl’s pause was more eloquent than words. • I'm terribly sorry, Tsobel.” The brown eyes were suspiciously misty, nod the hard line of Isobel’s well-cut mouth suddenly softened. *• l expect you did your best,” she said, with a hint of sympathy. “Some p, ople can’t help muddling things like figures and Morse. Better luck next J Then, with a nod to the company at large, she seized her satchel of books ami hurried off to Hie bicyclc-shed. If Isobel had been unexpectedly tolerant of her failure, the rest of the Patrol more than made up lor her tolerance. Jean went home feeling a worm, to spend a miserable evening and a restless night. Fortunately the following day was Saturday, and as there were no classes that morning she was not obliged to go to school. As a rule she enjoyed Saturday afternoons, watching Heathfleld’s First Eleven In action or playing in a practice game, but to-day she shrank from meeting her fellow Robins, and readily fell In with her mother’s suggestion that she should go for a spin on her bicycle instead. “You look so pale, dear, that I’m | Mire a quiet ride would do you more i good than playing cricket. It’s too ' hot to-day for strenuous exercise,” | Mrs Bradley pronounced. “ Take it ! easily, and come in for an early tea at four.” Probably it was because I-sobel i loomed so largely in her thoughts that ! Jean unconsciously took the road to ; Elham. a picturesque little village flve ! miles beyond the town. It was hardly j the sort of place where one would live from preference, Jean decided, when she reached it. Consisting of a mere handful of cottages and a farm, it lacked most of the conveniences which ; the town dwellers took for granted. •• No electric light, no water, except out of wells, no telephone, not even a church or a post office—” Jean : though a duffer at Morse, was a (me Guide when If came to observation. How frightfully primitive! One' might be in the very heart of the conn-

By Irene Mossop.

try. I wonder which is the Carews’ cottage? ” There was nothing to tell her, and after riding slowly through the village, she turned her wheel homewards once more. It was still very hot, and, toiling up a steep hill about two miles from Elham, she began to think longingly of tea. J'ust on the brow of the hill she overtook a boy a year or two her junior wheeling a bicycle with a flat tyre. As she came up with him, to her surprise he hailed her. ” 1 say, excuse me, but could you possibly lend me a pump for a few secs?” he asked apologetically. “I’ve left mine at home.” “ Certainly!” Jean promptly jumped off her bicycle, and unscrewed the pump. “ A Guide is a friend to all —” She could keep the Guide Law even though she couldn’t pass her Second Class tests. “ That tyre's punctured, surely It's not much good blowing it up, is it? ” she added, as the boy fastened the pump to the valve. “ I’ve a puncture out tit in my saddlebag, if that’s any use to you.” “Thanks awfully, hut I daren’t stop to mend the puncture; I’m in a desperate hurry. I thought I- might manage to pump enough air into the tyre to carry me a mile or two farther,” explained her new acquaintance, pumping away for all he was worth. “ Yes? ” Jean’s smile was sympathetic, and encouraged by it lie continued: “As a matter of fact I’m on my way to the nearest telephone to ring up the doctor. There’s no phone in our village, and my sister’s just had a bad attaok.” “Oh, hard luck! Is she very ill?” “ She’s got a groggy heart, and when she has a heart attack' she has a rotten time, poor kid? ” “Look here I” Jean had a brainwave. “ Leave that tyre alone. It’s going down as fast as you pump it up, and it wouldn’t carry you half a mile. Take my bike and dash off to the phone. I’ll follow, wheeling yours, and when you come back we can change again. “ D’you really mean it? I say, you are a brick and no mistake!” the boy cried warmly. . “ I wouldn’t accept if it wasn’t pretty urgent. One never knows how serious Naomi’s attacks are going to be. As it is, I’ll leave thanking you properly till I get back.” “That’s all right!” Jean assured him, and when, after an incredibly short interval, he rejoined her, crimson and breathless, she would not listen to any thanks. “It was absolutely nothing; besides, I’m a Guide,” she declared, as if that was explanation enough. It seemed enough for the boy, anyway. He nodded understandingly, and with another warm expression of thanks, went on his way. Jean, remounting her cycle, suddenly wondered if by any possibility the boy could be Isobel’s brother. There had been something vaguely familiar about his face. She wished that she had asked him. In the course of the next few- days, however, the incident passed into the back of her mind. Isobel was at school, looking exactly the same as usual, so if it had been her sister who had needed the doctor, evidently the patient was better. It was not a happy week for Jean. Though good-natured Gwen put a stop to the others’ ragging. Jean felt that she was in disgrace. (To be continued next week.)