‘Once for all!’ said Aunt Jane.
‘M-m-m-m-ps-pss-psss!’ from the Sofy, two screams from Val and Fergus, a buffeting of paws, a couple of wild bounds, first on a chair-back, then on the mantelpiece, where, between the bronze candlestick and the vase, the Persian philosopher stood hissing and swearing, while Kunz danced about and barked.
‘Take her down, Gillian,’ said Aunt Jane; and Gillian, who had some presence of mind, accomplished it with soothing words, and, thanks to her gloves, only one scratch.
Meantime Miss Mohun caught up Kunz, held up her finger to him, stopped his barks; and then, in spite of the ‘Oh, don’ts,’ and even the tears of Valetta, the two were held up—black nose to pink nose, with a resolute ‘Now, you are to behave well to each other, from Aunt Jane.
Kunz sniffed, the Sofy hissed; but her claws were captive. The dog was the elder and more rational, and when set down again took no more notice of his enemy, whom Valetta was advised to carry into Mrs. Mount’s quarters to be comforted and made at home there; the united voice of the household declaring that the honour of the Spitz was as spotless as his coat!
Such was the first arrival at Rockstone, preceding even Aunt Adeline’s inquiries after Mysie, and the full explanation of the particulars of the family dispersion. Aunt Ada’s welcome was not at all like that of Kunz. She was very tender and caressing, and rejoiced that her sister could trust her children to her. They should all get on most happily together, she had no doubt.
True-hearted as Gillian was, there was something hopeful and refreshing in the sight of that fair, smiling face, and the touch of the soft hand, in the room that was by no means unfamiliar, though she had never slept in the house before. It was growing dark, and the little fire lighted it up in a friendly manner. Wherever Aunt Jane was, everything was neat; wherever Aunt Adeline was, everything was graceful. Gillian was old enough to like the general prettiness; but it somewhat awed Val and Fergus, who stood straight and shy till they were taken upstairs. The two girls had a very pretty room and dressing-room—the guest chamber, in fact; and Fergus was not far off, in a small apartment which, as Val said, ‘stood on legs,’ and formed the shelter of the porch.
‘But, oh dear! oh dear!’ sighed Val, as Gillian unpacked their evening garments, ‘Isn’t there any nice place at all where one can make a mess?’
‘I don’t know whether the aunts will ever let us make a mess,’ said Gillian; ‘they don’t look like it.’
At which Valetta’s face puckered up in the way only too familiar to her friends.