Lavender had
reached out too far, and losing foothold on his polished bedroom floor,
was slipping down into the lilac-bush. He was arrested by a jerk from
behind; where Blink, moved by this sudden elopement of her master, had
seized him by the nightshirt tails, and was staying his descent.
"Is anything up?" said the young lady.
"I have lost my balance," thickly answered Mr. Lavender, whose blood was
running to his head, which was now lower than his feet. "Fortunately, my
dog seems to be holding me from behind. But if someone could assist her
it would be an advantage, for I fear that I am slipping."
"Hold on!" cried the young lady. And breaking through the low privet
hedge which separated the domains, she vanished beneath him with a low
gurgling sound.
Mr. Lavender, who dared not speak again for fear that Blink, hearing
his voice, might let go to answer, remained suspended, torn with anxiety
about his costume. "If she comes in," he thought, "I shall die from
shame. And if she doesn't, I shall die from a broken neck. What a
dreadful alternative!" And he firmly grasped the most substantial
lilac-boughs within his reach, listening with the ears of a hare for
any sound within the room, in which he no longer was to any appreciable
extent.
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