The puppy was escaping, his tail quivering like an eel between his legs. Directly her attention was called to his terror, she threw the stick aside.
“Poor old Bones, she didn’t mean to frighten him. She wouldn’t do anything to hurt him for the world.”
She gathered him into her arms, and sat herself down beside the brook about a yard away from Teddy.
“Bones does love me; but some people don’t. We call him Bones ’cause he’s got hardly any flesh.”
She glanced shyly at Teddy to see whether he was taking her remarks impersonally or as addressed to himself.
He was smiling, so she edged a little nearer and smiled back.
“People aren’t kind to Bones,” she said; “they throw things at him. He’s such a coward; people only respect dogs when they bite. You shouldn’t be so nice; you really shouldn’t, Bones.” And then, significantly: “If you’re too nice to strangers at first, you aren’t valued.”
Teddy laughed softly. “So that was why you bit me this morning, Princess, after I’d got up so early and waited for you?”
She tossed her curls and lowered her eyes. “Did I bite? For the fun of it, I’m always being cross like that. I’m even cross to my mother—my beautiful mother. She’s the darlingest mother in the world.”
Teddy closed his book and leant out, bridging the distance. “Is she? Where is she now?”