"You wouldn't think he was savage, would you, ma'am?" said Jeffrey.
"No, indeed!" responded Mrs. Coker. She was watching the child and the dog with smiling eyes.
"Savage?" cried Lilian. "Why, he's a dear quiet old fellow!"
Jeffry chuckled. "He may be to you, missie—I see he is—but he's not to everyone. He won't allow a stranger in the yard after dusk, and folks about here are mostly in fear of him. He's been keeping guard over my coat all the afternoon, and if any one had dared touch it, he'd have flown at that body in a minute."
Jeffry was a faithful old servant who lived at the farm. Age prevented his doing hard labour now; but he was a much-valued dependent, for he was thoroughly trustworthy, and Mr. Wills found him light jobs of work about the place. This afternoon he had been trimming hedges, and carried a reaping-hook in one hand.
"I'm sure he is a faithful doggie," said Lilian; and Wolf raised his eyes to her face and beamed at her.
"Oh, yes, he's faithful," Jeffry agreed, "and he can be very gentle and sweet-tempered on occasions; but he looks just like a wild animal when he shows his teeth and snarls. Why, here's Miss Nellie!" he cried with an abrupt change of tone, as a small figure came flying round the corner. "Where's she running at such a rate, I wonder!"
"Something has happened, I fear!" exclaimed Mrs. Coker, in accents of alarm. "What is it, Nellie?" she inquired anxiously, as the child approached them.
Nellie was breathless and her cheeks were nearly as red as the "tam-o'-shanter," she wore, which had slipped far back on her curly head.
"Oh," she gasped, as she stopped by the side of the pony-carriage, "I mustn't stay a minute, I must get on! I'm going to Westhill to tell Mrs. Wills—we're afraid she'll be dreadfully angry, and it was really my fault—"