ove. How he does love that
girl! Well, and how she loves him! She did, but the boys had to be seeing
her look at Matey if they were to put the girl on some balanced equality
with a fellow she was compelled to love. It seemed to them that he gave,
and that she was a creature carried to him, like driftwood along the
current of the flood, given, in spite of herself. When they saw those
eyes of hers they were impressed with an idea of her as a voluntary giver
too; pretty well the half to the bargain; and it confused their notion of
feminine inferiority. They resolved to think her an exceptional girl,
which, in truth, they could easily do, for none but an exceptional girl
could win Matey to love her.

Since nothing appeared likely to happen at the school, they speculated
upon what would occur out in the world, and were assisted to conjecture,
by a rumour, telling of Aminta Farrell's aunt as a resident at Dover.
Those were days when the benevolently international M. de Porquet had
begun to act as interpreter to English schools in the portico of the
French language; and under his guidance it was asked, in contempt of the
answer, Combien de postes d'ici a Douvres? But, accepting the rumour as a
piece of information, the answer became important. Ici was twenty miles
to the north-west of London. How long would it take Matey to reach
Donvres? Or at which of the combien did he intend to waylay and away with
Aminta? The boys went about pounding at the interrogative French phrase
in due sincerity, behind the burlesque of traveller bothering coachman.
Matey's designs could be finessed only by a knowledge of his character:
that he was not the fellow to give up the girl he had taken to; and
impediments might multiply, but he would bear them down. Three days
before the break-up of the school another rumour came tearing through it:
Aminta's aunt had withdrawn her from Miss Vincent's. And now rose the
question, two-dozen-mouthed, Did Matey know her address at Douvres? His
face grew stringy and his voice harder, and his eyes ready to burst from
a smother of fire. All the same, he did his work: he was the good old
fellow at games, considerate in school affairs, kind to the youngsters;
he was heard to laugh. He liked best the company of his little French
friend from Orthez, over whose shoulder his hand was laid sometimes as
they strolled and chatted in two languages. He really went a long way to
make French fellows popular, and the boys were s