Under no consideration might Trip be ever admitted into "The Cottage,"—that being the name of Miss Storey's pretty little house. Miss Storey had a great objection to dogs; partly on account of her dear cat, partly for fear of dusty or muddy footmarks on doorsteps and carpets. Trip was afflicted with an ardent longing to go where Hecla was; and he had tried, times without number, to sneak into "The Cottage" by a side entrance. But Mrs. Prue felt like her mistress, and waged war on his kind. The moment Trip's black nose showed itself, he was sure to be sent flying by broomstick or poker, to comfort himself outside at a safe distance with a fury of barks.
Here in the lanes he might follow the little girl to his heart's content; and nobody would find fault, if only he would refrain from jumping on Hecla with those muddy paws. Elisabeth scolded him in vain; for so soon as she began to scold, Hecla felt sure his feelings must be hurt, and then she tried to comfort him, which made him jump on her more vigorously than ever.
"I shall have to give you a good brushing the moment we get back," Elisabeth said despondingly. "And that'll take time too, Miss Hecla."
"But we won't be late," Hecla replied gaily.
Time fled fast, and one-half of the hour had slid away, as such hours do slide, out in the sunshine and the fresh air, when she cried—
"Oh, look! There's a dear sweet little robin!" And she stopped to seize Trip by the collar. "Look—look—just on the path. Hasn't he nice bright eyes? No, Trip—you shan't frighten the dear little robin. Oh, you naughty doggie!"
For Trip broke loose, and tore after the robin, which of course flew away. Trip pursued, then vanished into a small plantation, from which he did not come out in a hurry.
Hecla called, Elisabeth called, in vain. They tried coaxing, and they tried scolding; but Trip was a dog who liked his own way quite as much as little girls and boys do; and nearly ten minutes passed before it pleased him to walk out, with an innocent face, as if much surprised that anybody should be in a hurry.
"You bad, bad Trip, to keep us all this time!" Hecla pretended to beat him, and then kissed the top of his head, which of course meant more leaping up, and fresh attempts to lick her cheeks.
"And he's been and got into more wet mud, and he's making of your frock worse than ever!" declared Elisabeth ruefully.