An Improper Companion by April Kihlstrom Page A

me.
    “Thank you and good evening,” I replied. “Did you rest well after your journey?”
    “Yes, but—Good evening, Leslie,” she broke off.
    I turned to see my husband standing in the doorway. As he greeted us my eyes met his for a moment and he smiled. I glanced away hastily. I had apologised for my rude behaviour but I did not wish Sir Leslie to believe I meant more than that. In the next moment, to my relief, Philip joined us. “Good evening everyone. I’m not late, am I?” he asked.
    A measure of Leslie’s improved mood was that he answered affably, “Not at all, Philip.”
    Philip stared at him in surprise. We were, however, somewhat late, so I placed my hand on Leslie’s arm and said, “Shall we go in to table?”
    Aware of Leslie’s eyes on me, I stared at the floor. Neither of us spoke; neither of us referred to the afternoon or my subsequent note. When, after we were seated, I dared glance at him, Sir Leslie was no longer staring at me and I relaxed. Philip, enjoying the favourable mood, regaled us with stories of university life.
    “But when do you have time for your studies?” I asked at one point.
    “Oh, no one studies. One goes to the university to learn about life. One cannot get that from books!” Philip shrugged.
    Leslie raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Mary shook her head but smiled. I was not satisfied with the answer, but instead of persisting, I asked, “Which university are you at, Philip? You’ve not said.”
    Philip shifted uncomfortably and Leslie and Mary looked uneasy. “Well, my dear, actually...” Mary began.
    “Philip is rusticating at the moment,” Leslie said abruptly. “He was sent down from Oxford last week.”
    “And I suppose you never kicked up a lark when you were there!” Philip retorted.
    Leslie chuckled, “Ah, but I was never caught.” After a moment, he continued, “I remember once we managed to bar the dean into his office just before he was due to give an important speech. We would certainly have been sent down if the fellow had only known who we were.”
    Mary began to laugh. “Leslie! You never told us! But I remember the incident because Father was visiting me and he had heard of it. Though I am quite sure he had no notion you had been involved. He gave quite a sermon on responsibility and the lack of it among university students. Indeed he said he was happy to know his son would never do anything of the sort!”
    Philip grinned. “It is still talked of at Oxford. It seems the dean was so overset that, immediately he was released, he appeared with his wig askew. What else did you accomplish while there?”
    Leslie shook his head, “Now, now. I’ll not give you ideas. You must think of your own pranks. After you’ve finished with the university we can compare notes.”
    A thought suddenly occurred to Philip. “You weren’t involved in the bathing scandal?”
    One look at Leslie’s face was sufficient to confirm the suspicion. “What was the bathing scandal?” I asked, delighted. “I don’t wish to hear about it!” Mary exclaimed.
    Philip ignored her. “It seems that in Uncle Leslie’s day...”
    Leslie stopped him. “If she must know, I’d better explain it. I am not certain what version is circulating now. Well, Heather, there was a somewhat eccentric don who used to bathe in nearby lakes and rivers. One day, one of my friends spied him and shared the knowledge with a group of us. I am afraid we were on a spree for we conceived the following plan. For several days, we watched the spot until finally the don returned to bathe there. We waited until he shed his clothes and entered the water. Alone. It never seems to have occurred to the fellow that it might be foolish to leave his clothes unguarded. At any rate, we scooped them up and carried them off with us.”
    Philip was laughing, as was I. Mary asked, “How did the poor fellow contrive?”
    Leslie laughed. “That was the best part of it. The don was resourceful and fashioned