Jane paused in the vicious shaking she was giving the first blanket, and stared at Cook in a startled way. ‘Another what?’ she demanded. ‘You don’t mean to say another dog?’ Jane hated dogs.
Cook laughed with unnecessary heartiness. ‘No, another blanket,’ she exclaimed between her peals of mirth. ‘Here, get away, Punch, and let me look.’ She undid the animal’s chain, and then, as he bounded about in great delight, she poked first a head and then a long arm into the kennel, whence she presently came out red, panting, and triumphantly holding up a second blanket!
‘Well!’ gasped Jane, and stopped short, unable for the moment to find words strong enough to express her feelings.
Then Alice gave a nervous giggle, and Jane turned round on her sharply.
‘What business have you here, miss, laughing at your betters?’ she demanded angrily. ‘I’ll teach you——’
What she meant to teach Alice never appeared, for just at that moment the yard-door was flung violently open, and in rushed Micky, hot, breathless, and dirty, with Kitty following close on his heels.
‘It was I who broke the chrysanthemum, not Punch,’ panted Micky. ‘Unchain him—oh, I see he is unchained! That’s all right.’
‘All right, is it, Master Micky?’ cried Jane, shrilly. ‘This’—and she held up her blanket—‘this isn’t what I call all right, nor that either!’ and she pointed to the other blanket.
Kitty looked thoroughly scared, and for a fraction of a second even Micky seemed rather taken aback, but he recovered himself instantly.
‘I’m so sorry you don’t like the blankets,’ he remarked politely. ‘Aunt Grace will be disappointed, too, for I’m sure she meant to get nice ones for the spare room.’