"Oh! she is lovely," I said, "and she has your cat's eyes."
"'She is your ancestress, too, but she is not like you. Do you see the dog in the picture?"
"Yes. Why, it is just the portrait of one of your three knights!"
"Have you never heard the tradition, then?"
"No."
"As long as Dane Mount possesses that breed of dogs fortune is to favor the owner; but if they die out I can't tell you what calamities are not to overtake him. It has been going for hundreds of years."
"Then Ulfus, Belfus, and Bedevere are the descendants of that dog in the picture?"
"Yes."
"No wonder they give themselves such airs."
"Do you hear that, boys?" said Antony, turning to the three, who had again followed us. "My Comtesse says you give yourselves airs. Come and die for her to show her your real sentiments."