The children were eagerly relating to Anstice all the small details of
their lives since she had been upstairs. How Hercules had lain down in
the passage outside Anstice's door with his nose against the mat, how
Dad had tumbled over him and then sworn and then begged his pardon!
How Ruffie's white mouse had run away and then appeared one morning
climbing up the ivy on to his window ledge, and scratched at the pane
till he was let in! How Mrs. Wykeham had come round to call, and burst
into the library whilst lessons were going on, to say that she had
heard that "Steppie" had smashed her ribs and been lost all night on
the Fells! And lastly, what a lovely holiday they were having, for
while the snow was so deep Mrs. Fergusson would not be able to come
over to them.
"I'm not so sure of that being a blessing," said Anstice, smiling at
them; "if there are no lessons there will be mischief brewing, I am
afraid, and mischief means trouble for some one."
"When the snow stops, we mean to make a snowman," said Josie, "and
we'll try and make him tall enough to peep into the nursery and say
good morning to Ruffie."
Ruffie was on Anstice's lap. He was leaning his golden head against her
shoulder with a look of deepest content.
"You hold me like Dad," he said to her once; "I never get pains in my
legs with either of you."
Now he looked up at her.
"Now tell us about the rain and the mist on the Fells and how you and
Hercules got lost."
The door had opened and Justin came in.
"I thought tea might be ready," he said, coming up and slipping into
the other big chair close to the fire. "Don't move, any of you. I heard
Ruffie asking about a point that wants to be made clear, so now you
are well enough to tell us—how was it that you did not send Hercules
home for help sooner? If he had not heard my whistle, he would not have
come! He ought to have found his way, surely!"
"Let her make it into a story, Dad."
Ruffie was very gently slipping off Anstice's lap. His mute appeal to
his father made Justin hold out his arms, and he was transferred to
his father's keeping. Here he nestled into those strong arms, with his
bright eyes fixed on Anstice.
"She does tell stories so ripping!"
"I'm afraid there is not much of a story about it, but it was a
funny jealousy between the two dogs. I heard Victory howling, and he
was standing over his master when I arrived. Hercules went forward
sniffing, and Victory flew at him. I managed to calm them; but when I
had helped poor old Tommy as much as I could, Victory lay down at his
feet and glared at Hercules, and then Hercules lay down at my feet and
glared at him! I tried to send Hercules off for help, but he wouldn't
leave me. He said to Victory—'Think I'm going to leave my missus in
your charge! Never! You're so full of your old master that you'd let
anything happen to her! Not if I know it.'"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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