“But what for?” demanded Peter. “Why should I waste my time writing about them? You know very well, Sophy, that girls aren’t at all interesting, as ants or birds are, for instance. You know that, don’t you?”
“Yes,” said Sophy, humbly; “I know that because you have often told me so, but then, Peter, you can talk to a girl, but you can’t talk to an ant or a bird. Doesn’t that make some difference?”
“Not much,” he replied. “I would rather watch a colony of ants any day than talk to a girl. Now mind, Sophy, you don’t tell any one about my book.”
“Indeed I won’t, Peter, and I think it’s going to be a splendid book, even if there are no girls in it. I wish it was all made, though.”
“So do I,” said he; “but it won’t take long when I once get started on it. Hark! What’s that?”
A strange wild cry rang through the woods. Sirius stopped short in the path, with ears erect and motionless tail, while Sophy gave a little shriek and clung to her brother’s arm.
CHAPTER IX.
SOPHY HAS AN ADVENTURE.
“What is it?” whispered Sophy. “Oh, Peter, is it a ghost?”
“A ghost! Pooh, what nonsense! I’ll never bring you again, Sophy. You promised you wouldn’t be afraid of anything.”
“Oh, but, Peter, that was such a queer noise, and so dreadful! If you could only tell me what it was!”