When lonely little Boodles got home she saw at once that the cottage had
been entered. The sitting-room window had been forced open, and its
catch was broken; but Pendoggat had got nothing for his pains. She had
hidden the money-box so cunningly that he had failed to find it; and she
was glad then that she had seen him prowling about the cottage the night
before. She got some screws and made the window fast. Then she cried and
had her supper. After that she went to her bed and sobbed again until
her head ached, and then she sat up and scolded herself severely; and as
the wind was blowing nicely she turned on the wedding march, and while
listening to it prattled to herself--
"You mustn't break down, Boodles. It is much too early to do that, for
things have not begun to go really badly for you yet. There's enough
money to keep things going till summer, if you do without any new
clothes, and by the way you mustn't walk too much or you'll wear your
boots out, and next summer you will have a nice lot of old maids here
for their health, and make plenty of money out of them for your health.
I know you are only crying because it is so lonely, but still you
mustn't do it, for it makes you thin and white. You had better go and
study the cookery-book, and think of all the nice things you will make
for the old maids when you have caught them."
Boodles never allowed herself to speak upon the subject which was always
in her mind, and she tried to persuade herself she was not thinking of
Aubrey and Weevil's wild story, although she did nothing else. While she
was talking of her prospects she was thinking of Aubrey, though she
would not admit it. She had tried once to put six puppies into a small
cupboard, but as often as she opened the door to put another puppy in
those already inside tumbled out. That was exactly the state her mind
was in. When she opened it to think of her prospects, Aubrey, Weevil's
story, and her unhappy origin, fell out sprawling at once, and were all
over the place before she could catch them again; and when she had
caught them she couldn't shut them up.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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