I heard no more about turning back. She just told me to come along and I went. As we decreased the distance between us, Dandy began a-pricking of his ears.
I pointed to him as his tail set erect.
"I don't expect we shall be bored," said I.
She stooped down to take hold of Dandy's collar.
"P'raps they'll fight."
I shook my head. This was the first I was to see of Bellwattle in her moments of maternal fussiness. Where any animals, birds or insects are concerned, she becomes like a hen with a brood of chickens. Cruikshank tells me that when first he took her abroad, she shuddered and winced at every animal in the streets. Whenever she saw a horse whose harness chafed a sore on its back, she bit her lip and clutched his arm.
"You mustn't look at them," said he.
"I can't help it," she replied. "I find myself looking out for them because I know they're there."
At last he gave it up in despair. There was no curing her.
"I suppose women must suffer," he concluded, as he told the little incident to me.