It must be confessed that a little of the jollity died out of Plunkett's face with this announcement.
"She is, is she? I thought she said—Oh well, it's all right. Tea ready?"
"Marigold did it! Mother wasn't coming; and Marigold went like a goose and asked her," pouted Narcissus.
"And she was pleased," added Marigold.
"Marigold's a very good girl," said Plunkett. "A very good girl indeed! So there! We'll all go, and we'll have a good time together."
It really seemed hopeful that they might. Mrs. Plunkett came down in her best dress and bonnet, actually looking quite agreeable, almost smiling.
"Marigold seemed to think I might as well see the show too," she said. "And I don't know why I shouldn't. It isn't often as we have the chance."
The lions and tigers, having dined not long before, were enjoying a calm after-dinner nap, as mild and sleepy in aspect as overgrown grimalkins.
"I can't fancy one of them tigers carrying off an ox," Plunkett remarked, contemplating the cage. "He looks sort of easy-going—blinking his eyes. Shouldn't think he was big enough neither. Though they do say a tiger can pick up an ox like a cat picking up a mouse, and heave it over his shoulder, and make nothing of it."
"They 'do say' a great many mistaken things," remarked a voice close behind, and Plunkett turned to find himself addressed by an elderly gentleman, military as to his moustache, and placid as to his expression. "The proportionate sizes of a tiger and an ox are rather different from those of a cat and a mouse."