“Mais non,” said Mademoiselle with a little burst of laughter; “he is here, in this room, and waits to make himself known.”
She opened the lid of the basket a very little way and peeped in.
“It’s Gambetta!” exclaimed Sophia Jane, in a voice hoarse with excitement; “that’s what you meant by a friend.”
There was the tiny tinkle of a bell. Mademoiselle opened the basket wide, and there indeed was Gambetta in all the dignity of the new collar.
Nothing could exceed Sophia Jane’s delight as she clasped her hands in an ecstasy and laughed aloud. “Doesn’t he look nice in it?” she said. Mademoiselle smiled and nodded in return; everyone looked pleased except Gambetta himself, who held his neck stiffly as though he said, “Pride must suffer pain.”
Susan stood a little behind the group while this was going on; now she came in front of Mademoiselle and caressed Gambetta’s soft furry neck.
“It’s Sophia Jane’s present,” she said, “not mine. She sent it to Monsieur for him.”
Mademoiselle looked puzzled.
“It was got with Susan’s half-crown,” added Sophia Jane quickly, “so it’s from both of us.”
“Ah, that is very amiable of you both,” said Mademoiselle. “Gambetta has both the two of you to thank—and Adolphe also; that is very agreeable.”