Aubrey made a face of dissuasion, ending in a whistle.

'Do at least tell me it is nothing I should be sorry for,' she said
anxiously.

He screwed his face into an intended likeness of Ethel's imitation of
an orchis, winked one eye, and looked comical.

'I see it can't be really bad,' said Ethel, 'so I will rest on your
assurance, and ask no indiscreet questions.'

'You didn't see, then?' said Aubrey, aggrieved at the failure of his
imitation. 'You don't remember the beauty he met at Coombe?'

'Beauty! None but Mab.'

'Well, they found it out and chaffed him. Fielder said he would cut
out as good a face out of an old knob of apple wood, and the doctor
in petticoats came up again; he got into one of his rages, and they
had no end of a shindy, better than any, they say, since Lake and
Benson fifteen years ago; but Ward was in too great a passion, or he
would have done for Fielder long before old Hoxton was seen mooning
that way. So you see, if any of the fellows should be about, it
would never do for you to be seen going to bind up his wounds, but I
can tell him you are much obliged, and all that.'

'Obliged, indeed!' said Ethel. 'What, for making me the laughing-
stock of the school?'

'No, indeed,' cried Aubrey, distressed. 'He said not a word--they