"Oh, much," she said, her eyebrows raised above a faint smile. "You
see, then I should have been upset properly."
As she spoke, she laid a hand on my shoulder, to steady herself, while
she peered into the mirror above my head. I looked round and up at the
smiling face, six inches away.
"Then I wish I had," said I. One hand was settling her plumed hat.
Without looking down, she set the other firmly upon my chin, and turned
my face round and away.
"Open the door and hand me out nicely," she said.
I rose and put on my hat.
"Do you ever play the piano?" I said suddenly.
"Why?"
"I was thinking of the fingers. You have such an exquisite touch."
The evident pleasure the chestnut mare evinced at her mistress's
arrival was a real tribute to personality. Also the vet's morning
report was more satisfactory. It seemed that Dear One was mending.
Greatly comforted, my lady let me give her lunch at the Duck Inn.
Afterwards--there being no train till four o'clock--she came with me to
choose a spaniel pup. It was to purchase him that I had started for
Friars Rory that sunshiny day.
"What shall you call him?" she said, as we made our way to the
kennels. "I really don't know," said I. "What about Seal-skin? Must
be something in memory of to-day."
She laughed merrily. Then:
"Why not Non-Stop?"
"I know," I said. "I'll call him Upset."
Three black and white urchins gambolled about us, flapping ears,
wagging ridiculous tails, uncertainly stumbling about upon baby legs.
"Oh, you darlings," said the girl, stooping among them, caressing, in
turn caressed. She raised a radiant face to me.
"However will you choose which you'll have?"
I leaned against the wall and regarded the scene before me.
"I like the big one best," I said.
"The big one?" she said, standing up. "Aren't they all the same--"
"The one on its hind legs," said I. "With the big eyes."
"Ah," she said, smiling. "But that's not for sale, I'm afraid.
Besides, its temper's very uncertain, as you know."
"I'd risk that. The spaniel is renowned for its affectionate
disposition. And what dog wouldn't turn, if it was put in the wrong
train? Besides, your coat's so silky."
"But I'm sure my ears don't droop, and I've never had distemper. Then
there's my pedigree. You don't know--"
"Don't I? By A Long Chalk, out of The Common's good enough for most
people."
"Oh, you are hopeless!" she said, laughing. She turned to the
scrambling pups. "Who's for a mad master?" she said.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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