"Haven't you finished your lessons yet?" Joy exclaimed. "I learnt mine directly after tea, and Wag and I have been having such a game! I came to tell you that Miss Pring is here. Will you come in to see her?"
"No; not unless mother sent you to fetch me. Is Uncle Jasper in the drawing-room?"
"Yes. He asked for you, so I thought I'd better find you."
"What a nuisance!" Celia's tone was decidedly cross. "I never get any time to myself. Need I go in, do you think?"
"Shall I tell Uncle Jasper you have not quite finished learning your lessons?" Joy suggested.
Celia assented, and away went Joy. The minute her sister was out of sight, Celia turned round in search of the novel she had hidden; but, to her great amazement, it had disappeared. Whilst she was wondering what could possibly have become of it, the sound of a delighted bark broke upon her ears, and the puppy gambolled past her, shaking and worrying what looked like a bundle of loose papers, but was, as the little girl rightly guessed, the book she was in search of.
She darted after the dog, calling to him softly and insinuatingly:
"Wag! Wag! Good dog! Come here! Come here!"
But Wag took no heed. He was having a splendid time, for the novel, in its limp paper cover with its fluttering leaves, proved a capital plaything. First the puppy hid behind one rock, then another, as Celia chased him till she was breathless, allowing her to get nearly within reach of him, and then darting away again.
"Wag, you little wretch, come here, sir!" Celia cried, her voice changing its tone, and becoming stern. "Come here, this minute, you bad dog!"