It was no other than Peter Perry's dog, Bounce.
"I wanted her to give me the character of a servant, Jane Fry, who has offered herself to me as a plain cook. Please tell your Mother I will write."
"Oh, yes, I will! I knew Jane was looking out for a situation as a cook. She thinks she should be earning higher wages than we pay her, and Mother thinks so, too. I'm so sorry Mother isn't here, but she won't be away long, I know. Wouldn't you like to come in and wait for her?"
Miss Perry thanked Nellie for her suggestion, and said that she would. Accordingly, she and her nephew, both looking very smiling, entered the house. As Nellie ushered them along the passage and into the little used drawing-room, Tom slipped by them and out of the front door, which he closed after him with a bang.
"Nellie doesn't care how badly I'm served," he told himself, wrathfully; "it's nothing to her how I'm slighted and insulted! Just because Miss Perry smiled at her and spoke pleasantly, she was won over at once. She won't like it when she finds I'm gone! Serve her right! Did she expect me to stay and be civil to Peter Perry, I wonder? I longed—yes, longed—to kick him out of the house!"
He took his cap from one of his coat-pockets, where he often kept it, put it on his head, and walked away in the direction of the country, never pausing till he found himself in the wood through which he had passed with Tim but a few hours before. There he flung himself full length on the mossy ground under the welcome shade of a huge beech tree, and gave himself up to nursing his grievances. He felt exceedingly annoyed with Nellie.
"And I had intended to spend the whole afternoon with her, and to be as nice and kind to her as I could possibly be," he reflected; "but of course she didn't know that. I wonder what she'll talk about to those Perrys! Oh, dear, I do wish I had Tim with me for company; he's with Mother, I expect."
It was a very hot afternoon, and by and by Tom began to feel very drowsy. His eyes had closed, and he was nearly asleep when the excited "Yap, yap, yap!" of a dog sounded not far distant, and he sat up quickly, suddenly very wide awake indeed. Could it be Tim he heard? No, that was not Tim's voice, but one much deeper. Nearer it came, then a rabbit scudded close by him, pursued by an Irish terrier—no other than Peter Perry's dog, Bounce.
"Bounce! Bounce!" cried Tom, springing to his feet. "He has got off by himself," he thought; "I suppose I'd better try to catch him and take him home. It won't do to leave him here, perhaps to get trapped."
By this time the dog had disappeared. A few minutes later, Tom discovered him digging at a rabbit hole, and knew he had lost his quarry; he was without a collar, and in a great state of heat.