"How a young lady as calls herself a young lady can bemean herself by
making a pet of a low-bred, ill-looking dog like that, I can't think,"
said Mr Robbins, laying himself out for a speech in the servants' hall.
"That's a nice enough little tarrier as Sir Grantley Wilters brought,
and she won't have none of it, but leaves it to her ladyship."
"Yes," said the footman, "and a nice mess is made, with sops and milk
and cutlets all over the carpet."
"Joseph," said the butler with dignity, "it is not the place of a young
man like you in livery to find fault with the acts of your superiors.
Servants as do such things never rises to be out of livery."
"Thanky, sir," said Joseph, who, being a young man of a lively
imagination _and_ much whiskers, turned his head, squinted horribly at
an under housemaid, and made her giggle.
"Such a dog as that ugly brute as comes brushing into the house every
time the door is opened is only fit to go with a costermonger or a
butcher."
"Well, I'm sure, Mr Robbins," said the cook, who for reasons of her own
had a weakness for tradesmen in the latter line, "butchers are as good
as butlers any day."
"Perhaps they are, Mrs Downes--perhaps they are not," said the butler
with dignity; "but what I say is, Mr Melton ought to have known better
than ever to have brought such a beast into a gentleman's house."
"That for your opinion, Mr Robbins," said Mademoiselle Justine,
colouring up and snapping her fingers. "I know what you think," she
said, speaking in a high-pitched, excited voice. "You think that a lady
should admire scented men in fine tailor's clothes and flowers, and wiz
zere leetle wretched dogs. Bah! Tish! A woman loves the big and ugly
and ster-r-r-rong. She can be weak and beautiful herself. Is it not
so, my friends? Yes."
Mademoiselle Justine shook her head, tightened her lips, and with
sparkling eyes looked round the table, ending with heightened colour and
patting her little _bottine_ upon the floor.
"Well, that dog's ugly enough anyhow," said Robbins, smiling faintly,
and making a second chin above his cravat. "As for that Mr Melton--"
"Ah, bah! stop you there," cried Mademoiselle Justine. "I do not say he
is ugly, but he is big and sterong and has broad shouldaire. He is all
a man--_tout-a-fait_ all a--quite a man."
There was another sharp burst of nods and jerks at this.
"You think, you, that my young lady will marry this Sir Wilters? That
for him! He is a man for the _Maison Dieu_ or the _Invalides_. He
marry! ha, ha, ha! I could blow him out myself. Poof! He is gone."
Mademoiselle Justine blew some imaginary bit of fluff from her fingers
as she spoke, apparently shook her head into a kind of notch or catch in
the spine, and then sat very upright and very rigid, while the butler
said grace and the party broke up.
Lunch had been over in the dining-room some time, and her ladyship was
going out for a drive. Maude had again declined, and her ladyship had
smiled, knowing that Sir Grantley Wilters would probably call. Her
ladyship was wonderfully made up, and looked her best, for Monsieur
Hector Launay from Upper Gimp Street had had an interview with her that
morning. There had been a consultation on freckles, and a large mole
which troubled her ladyship's chin had been condemned to death, executed
with some peculiar acid, and its funeral performed and mourning arranged
with a piece of black court plaster, which now looked like a beauty spot
upon the lady's chin.
Her gloves, of the sweetest pearl grey, fitted her plump hands to
perfection, and she was quite ready to go out.
"Where is your papa, dear Maude," said her ladyship, stopping to smell a
bouquet. "Ah me, how sweet! How kind Sir Grantley is, and what taste
he has in flowers."
"Papa is in the library," said Maude, quietly, and she glanced nervously
towards the door.
"Come then, a sweet," cried her ladyship; "and he shall go and have a
nice ride in the carriage, he shall, and look down and bark at all the
dirty dogs in the road."
As she showed her second best teeth in a large smile, the little terrier
took it to be a challenge of war, and displayed his own pigmy set; but
after a due amount of coaxing, and the gift of a lump of sugar, he
permitted himself to be caught and placed beneath her ladyship's plump
arm, presenting to a spectator who had a side view a little head cocking
out in front, and a little tail cocking out behind--nothing more.
"I shall be back by five, I dare say, Maude. Where is Tryphie?"
"I am here, aunt, quite ready," said a cheerful voice, and the bright
little girl appeared at the door.
"You are not quite ready: you have only one glove on. Tryphie, you
might pay some respect to those who find you a home and protection."
The girl coloured slightly but made no answer, only exchanged glances
with Maude, and kissed her hand to her.
"Dear me!" exclaimed her ladyship, "where did I put my _flacon_? Oh, I
remember."
She marched in a stately manner with the roll of a female beadle, or an
alderman in his gold chain of office, to an Indian cabinet, opened a
drawer and inserted her hand.
"Why, what is this?" she exclaimed, drawing out something whitey brown
and throwing it down with an ejaculation of annoyance. "Disgusting!"
The toy terrier uttered a sharp yelp of excitement, leaped from her
ladyship's arms on to a table, upsetting a china cup and saucer, bounded
on to the floor and seized that which her ladyship had rejected--to wit,
a savoury-looking chicken bone, and proceeded to denude it of its flesh.
"I declare your papa grows insufferable," cried her ladyship. "His
brain must be softening. I shall consult the doctor about him."
Certainly it was very annoying, for her ladyship's pearly grey Parisian
glove had a broad brown smear of osmazome across it, and all due to Lord
Barmouth's magpie-like trick of hiding scraps of food away for future
consumption, in Indian cabinets and china jars, and then forgetting the
_cache_ he had made.
Mademoiselle Justine was summoned, a fresh pair of gloves obtained and
put on with the maid's assistance, by which time the dog had polished
the bone, and probably in his own tongue, being a well-bred animal, said
a grace and blessed Lord Barmouth. Then he was once more taken up, his
mouth and paws wiped by Justine on one of her ladyship's clean
handkerchiefs; Tryphie nodded a good-bye to her cousin, to whom she had
hardly dared to speak, and then followed her ladyship downstairs.
Maude rose, trembling and in dread lest something she feared should
occur, for her ladyship was later than usual in going out, and this was
a Wednesday, which day was sacred to the canine post.
In fact, as Maude heard the steps of the carriage rattled down with a
great deal of noise--her ladyship encouraged her servants to bang them
down well, for it let the neighbours know she kept a carriage and was
going out--there was a pattering of feet, and as she opened the door,
Joby came trotting in, with his great eyes full of animation, and the
grinning smile in which he indulged a little more broad, for he had
rushed in between the footman's legs nearly upsetting him as the door
was opened, in his eagerness to play postman for his master.
"Good dog, then!" whispered Maude, and then her heart seemed to stand
still, for the carriage did not drive off, there was a rustling of silks
on the stairs, and her ladyship came panting up.
Maude threw herself, colouring vividly, into a _bergere_ chair, and Joby
dived under the couch, not leaving so much as the point of his tail
visible as her ladyship sailed into the room and looked hastily round.
"Maude," she cried, "there is some mystery here. I insist on knowing
what this means."
There was no reply, but Tryphie came in, and darted a sympathetic glance
at the poor girl, mentally wishing that Tom were at home.
"I--insist upon knowing what this means."
"What, mamma?" said Maude, huskily.
"That dog; where is he? Mr Melton's hideous wretch. Here: dog, dog,
dog!" she cried.
She might have called till she was speechless, for Joby would not have
moved. All the same, though, he was to be stirred, for her ladyship,
now in a towering passion, set down the toy terrier upon a chair, when
it immediately leaped to the carpet, barking furiously, and made a dead
set at the sofa.
"It is yonder! You have hidden the wretch there!" cried her ladyship,
"and I am certain that that dog has been made the bearer of clandestine
correspondence. I have read of such things. But there's an end to it
now, and it is only just and fit--false, abandoned girl!--that it should
be discovered by the faithful little dog of the gentleman who is to-be
your husband. Good little pet, then, to protect your master's
interests. Fetch him out, then."
This was rather unwise of her ladyship, but she was excited, and she
excited the little terrier in turn, for he had contented himself up to
this time with snapping and barking furiously at the chintz valance
hanging from the sofa, but keeping about a yard distant, as he leaped up
with all four feet from the carpet at once and came down barking.
Encouraged though by her ladyship he went a little closer, barking and
snarling so furiously that Joby could not contain himself any longer but
softly pushed his short black nose and one eye beneath the chintz, had a
look at the noisy intruder, and then, withdrew once more.
"There! I knew it," cried her ladyship, angrily. "Oh, shame on you,
shame, shame! Good little dog, then! Drive him out!"
The terrier barked again furiously, and glanced up at her ladyship, who
uttered fresh words of encouragement.
Sir Grantley Wilters gave fifteen guineas for the beast, and another for
his morocco and silver collar!
"Drive him out, then, good little dog!" cried her ladyship, and with a
fierce rush, the terrier ran under the sofa.
There was a sharp bark, a bit of a scuffle, a worrying noise, a loud
yelp cut suddenly in half, and then, frowning severely, Joby crept out
from the foot of the sofa, with the hair about his neck erect, his eyes
glowering, and the limp corpse of the wretched terrier hanging from his
jaws.
It was all plain enough--that invisible tragedy beneath the chintz. The
enemy had fastened upon one of Joby's cheeks with his keen little teeth,
and made it bleed, when, with a growl, the big dog had shaken his
assailant off, caught him by the back, given him a shake like a rat, and
the terrier's head, four legs, and tail hung down together. Sir
Grantley Wilters' guineas were represented now by some inanimate skin
and bone.
It was all over!
"Oh, this is dreadful!" cried her ladyship, as, with a cry of horror,
Maude made for the dog.
But no: Joby was amiability itself at times, and well educated; still,
rouse the dog that was in him, and his obstinate breed began to show.
Maude called, but he took no notice, only walked solemnly about the room
with his vanquished enemy pendent from his grinning mouth.
"He'll kill it--he'll kill it," cried her ladyship, wildly, but not
daring to approach; and just then Tom entered the room. "Oh, Tom, Tom,
quick!"
"What's the row?" cried Tom, "eh? Oh, I say! ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! what a
jolly lark!" and he slapped his leg and roared with laughter.
"Tom!" shrieked her ladyship.
"That's just about how Charley Melton could serve Wilters," cried Tom,
wiping his eyes.
"For shame, sir!" cried her ladyship. "Pray, pray save the poor dog."
"What for?" said Tom, grinning, "to be stuffed?"
"Oh, don't say it's dead!" wailed her ladyship.
"I won't, if you don't wish me to say so," said Tom, "but it is as dead
as a door nail. Here, Joby, Joby," he cried, walking up to the dog.
But there was a low growl and Joby hung his head, glowered, and walked
to the far end of the drawing-room, seeming to take a pleasure in making
his journey as long as he could in and out amongst chairs and tables,
giving Tom, who followed him, significant hints that it would not be
safe to interfere with him at such a time.
"There, let's open the door, and he'll go," said Tom.
"Oh, no, no, Tom," cried her ladyship. "Sir Grantley's present."
Just then the dog seemed to have satisfied his anger upon his rival, and
crossing the room to where Maude sat trembling in her chair, he dropped
the defunct terrier at her feet, and stood solemnly wagging his stump of
a tail as if asking for praise.
"Ring the bell, Tryphie," cried her ladyship.
"All right," said Tom, forestalling her, and Robbins came up with
stately stride.
"Take this down, Robbins," said her ladyship, with a shudder.
The butler looked ineffably disgusted, but he merely turned upon his
heel, strode out of the room, and returned at the end of a minute or two
with a silver salver and a napkin, picked up the sixteen guineas with
the latter, placed it upon the former, covered it with the damask, and
bore the dead dog solemnly out, Joby following him closely, as if
turning himself into chief mourner, and then seeing the hall door open
trotting slowly out.
"That I should have lived to be the mother of such--"
Her ladyship did not finish her sentence but rose with dilating eyes,
made a sort of heavy rush and bound across the room, pounced upon
something and began eagerly to inspect it, tearing open a little narrow
pocket and extracting a note.
Poor Joby! he did not mean to be so faithless to his trust, but the
excitement consequent upon the attack had made the muscles of his throat
swell to such a degree that his collar fastening had snapped, and the
collar with its valuable missive had fallen upon the carpet, while poor
Maude had sat wondering where it had gone.
"Yes, of course," said her ladyship, sarcastically. "Well: that trick
is detected," she cried, viciously tearing up the note. "Letters sent
by a dog, by one of the vilest of the vile; and this, Diphoos, is the
man you called your friend."
"Oh, aunt, pray be silent," cried Tryphie, running to her cousin's side.
"Maude has fainted."