"But I only meant to spend half of that, even when I was with you."
They argued for some time, but at last Jennings decided that it was time for them to go to Mr Wilkins. They left Venables and slowly, very slowly went to Mr Wilkins' room.
"I think she is sitting there, at this very moment, and telling Mr Wilkins what we said about him," said Darbishire.
Yes, at that very moment Miss Margaret Wilkins was sitting in the arm-chair in her brother's room with a cup of tea in her hand.
"It's very pleasant to be here," she said and put the cup on the table in front of her.
"Have another cup of tea, Margaret," said Mr Wilkins.
"No, thank you, Lancelot. I had a cup of tea before I arrived."
"If you don't mind, Margaret, don't call me Lancelot here."
"But why not? You've always been Lancelot at home."
"That was at home," explained Mr Wilkins. "But here, if the boys find it out, I'll never know a moment peace."
"What shall I call you then - Old Wilkie?"
"Y-yes, well, it's better than Lancelot. The boys call me that when they think that I am not listening."
Margaret watched him with interest. Was he really as bad as the boys thought?
"Have another cup of tea!" invited the fire-breathing dragon.
"No, thank you, Lance... er, Old Wilkie. I had a cup of tea in the village with two of your boys. Jennings and Darbishire they said their names were. I think they are very nice boys."
"What!" Mr Wilkins jumped to his feet and looked at his sister in surprise. "You... you mean... you want to tell me... Well, Margaret, they had to be in my detention class - not drinking tea with my sister. So that's where they were. Well, when I see them, I'll.."
"But it wasn't their fault! They were very sorry that they were missing your detention class, but they couldn't leave the place because they had no money."
"The only thing I can tell you, Margaret, is that they must be punished and they will be punished," said Mr Wilkins.
"Can I see them again before I go?" asked Margaret.
"Why do you want to do that?"
"I promised to help them with their wall newspaper," she explained. "You didn't help them when they wanted to write your life-story."
"No, I didn't. My life-story! I've never heard such nonsense. Well, they'll have to think about it again because I didn't tell them anything."
"That's why I want to see them. I can tell them a lot of interesting things," smiled Margaret. "Do you remember that time when you were very small and you had six helpings of Christmas pudding? I remember Father said to you, 'Lancelot, my boy, this is a good lesson to you never to...'"
"Oh, Margaret! You can never tell them a thing like that!" cried Mr Wilkins.
"Or do you remember the time when you fell down from the apple-tree and cried
and..."
"But you know very well, Margaret, that it wasn't my fault. The branch was rotten - it let me down."
"It wasn't the boys'-fault that they didn't come to your detention class. Their friend let them down."
"It isn't the same thing, Margaret. You must understand that."
"But I can't understand that. It's exactly the same thing, one of those things which often happen to people when they are small," she argued. "And if you can't see it now, try to read about it in the life-story of Lancelot Wilkins, when you see it in the next issue of the Form Three Times!"
"I... I... But Margaret, you can't... you won't..." \
"I shall," said Margaret.
Mr Wilkins came up to the window and opened it. It was too much for him. He looked out of the window. The evening was cool and it calmed him. He began to remember the time when he was. a small boy. Maybe he had really behaved in the same idiotic way as Jennings and Darbishire. Maybe their friend really let them down and they could not come to the detention class. Then he thought about Lancelot Wilkins' life-story in the Form Three Times. Oh, no,
not that!
He turned back from the window and said, "I don't want to be unfair, Margaret, so I'll tell you what I'll do: I'll make them do the sums which they missed this afternoon, and I'll not punish them."
"That's fair enough," Margaret answered. "And you won't... Well, what I mean is, you won't say anything about Lancelot and all that apple-tree nonsense, will you?" • "No," said Margaret. "But you must promise that you will be very decent to them when they come to explain why they were absent from your detention class." "I will," said Mr Wilkins.
Soon Margaret and her brother heard footsteps in the corridor and then a knock at the door. "Come in!" called Mr Wilkins, and two boys with very sad faces came into the room.
"Please, sir, we've come to report you, sir."
"Yes, of course! Come in, Jennings and Darbishire. Well, well! You... you've met my sister, I think," Mr Wilkins looked at Margaret and smiled.
But the boys did not dare to look up- they were still looking at their shoes.
"I think you've come about that detention class that we had this afternoon," said Mr Wilkins and smiled again.
"We are very sorry we were absent, sir," said Jennings at last, "and for all we said, too, sir."
"Well, never mind! I'm also sorry you missed it! We learned a lot."
The two boys could not believe their ears. What was the matter with Mr Wilkins? They did not know how to explain their story to him, but he did not want any explanation and greeted them like film stars. No, they just could not believe it!
"I think the best thing will be if you come and see me before you go to bed and we'll do some of these sums together, shall we?"
"Yes, sir... certainly, sir. Thank you very much, sir," Darbishire said quickly.
"But... is that all, sir?" asked Jennings.
"Yes, that's all. Oh, yes, have something to eat before you go," said Mr Wilkins.
He smiled again and took the plate of cakes from the table. If he had to be decent, he decided to be really decent.