We found next morning that Mrs. Handsomebody and Mary Ellen had never gone
back to bed all night, but had kept watch in the dining-room till daylight,
when Mary Ellen had been dispatched to find a policeman. He was in the
kitchen now, a commanding figure, making notes in a little book; and
seeming to derive great benefit from his conversation with Mary Ellen.
A new arrival was a wheeled-chair to convey Mrs. Handsomebody to 5 Argyle
Road. Therefore, about ten o'clock, after the most exhausting preparations,
we set out, a singular party; Mrs. Handsomebody enthroned in the chair,
mistress of herself (and every one else) her black-gloved hands crossed on
her lap; Mary Ellen, hot, straining over the wheeled-chair, lest her
mistress get an unseemly bump at the crossing; Angel and I, bearing between
us a covered hamper containing the three pups; while Giftie and The Seraph
in the abandon of youth and ignorance, sported on the outskirts of the
group.
The way was long, and our arms ached with the weight of the hamper, when we
stopped before the gate of Number 5 Argyle Road. It was an imposing house
in its own grounds; large clipped trees stood about; and a bent old
gardener was doing something to one of those, while a tall grey-haired
woman in mannish tweeds superintended the work. A Scottish terrier, fit
mate for Giftie, was digging furiously at the root of the tree. He
discovered our presence first, and, before we had time to introduce
ourselves, he and Giftie, with bristling backs, were jumping about one
another in a sort of friendly hostility, and filling the air with barks of
greeting. Giftie, then, darted for the hamper, sniffed it, ran back to the
other Scotty, and bit him so that he yelped. All was confusion.
The tall lady came toward us smiling broadly. She exclaimed above the din:
"How can I thank you? I see you have brought home our little
wanderer--Giftie, how can you treat Colin so? Poor Colin--lift him up,
Giles, she's going to bite him again--I suppose there are pups in the
hamper. Let's see, boys."
We uncovered the hamper proudly. The three puppies lay curled like little
sea anemones. Giftie tried to get in the hamper with them, but her mistress
restrained her gently, while she lifted them out, one by one, and examined
each, critically, Mrs. Handsomebody watching her all the while with an
expression of disapproval, that bordered on disgust.
The tall lady, quite oblivious to all this, seated herself on the ground
with the puppies on her lap, muttering ecstatically-"Perfect beauties--what
luck! Giftie, you're a wonder!" Whereupon Giftie tried to kiss her on the
ear. The bent old gardener, brought Colin to us and made him shake hands,
and we thought him very long-faced and dour after roguish Giftie.
Presently Mrs. Handsomebody spoke in her most decisive tones:
"I fear I shall take a chill if I remain in this damp place. Come boys.
Mary Ellen, kindly reverse the chair!"
The tall lady rose to her feet.
"Oh, please, come in and have something hot, and tell me all about it. And
there's the reward."
"I thank you," replied Mrs. Handsomebody, "I shall not venture to leave my
chair. As for the dog, it came to us several weeks ago, when I was ill;
hence the delay in returning it--and its young."
"Your grandchildren?" questioned the tall lady abruptly.
"My pupils, and, for the present, my wards," replied Mrs. Handsomebody
frigidly.
"Wish I could steal them," said the lady. "If I'd dogs and boys too, I'd be
happy. These are darlings." She turned to us then. "Boys, do you like
Giftie very much?"
"Oh, we love her," we chorused.
"Would you like one of her puppies for your very own to keep?"
Would we? We couldn't speak for longing.
Mrs. Handsomebody spoke for us.
"I allow no pets, canine or otherwise."